Page 78 of Tastes Like Summer

To say that my girls are hardcore Swifties is an understatement (although there really is no middle ground when it comes to being one). Throughout the worst part of the divorce, her music was the only thing that kept them singing in the car during pick ups, bobbing their heads cheerfully as they did their homework at the kitchen table, and making up dances like the one they're performing tonight during those weekends when they would wait for their father to come and visit them. Her music has been a distraction from the pain of their parents’ separation, and for that, I will forever be grateful.

So when I see them take the stage with their close friend in matching sparkly t-shirts, pink tutu skirts over jeans, and pink sneakers, my eyes water, thinking it’s only fitting that they close this chapter by performing a dance to a song called Cruel Summer. They made it through. We made it through the summer. Even though there were moments these last couple of months when I felt like we would never survive, a lot of it was about growth.

But as my eyes flit for a second away from the stage to where Michael stands, enraptured by his daughter, expression filled with pride, my heart breaks. Because my daughters and I didn’t make it through this summer alone; we had help from him and Rachel. From the very beginning, Michael and Rachel were there, and despite our rocky start, we stuck through it, worked things out, and later spent almost every day of the season together.

And now that’s all over. The little unit we’ve formed is coming to an end; the girls and I are going back to Colorado, and Michael and Rachel are staying here. And I’m going to miss them more than I ever thought I could.

Once the dance is over, I clap as hard as I can, tears in my eyes. I’m not sure what we have to face next, but I know we’ll be able to get through it—I just don’t think my heart will be able to survive it if everything Michael and I decided we would build together will never come to be.

I wait for Rachel just outside the auditorium at our previously-discussed meeting spot, feeling like crawling out of my skin. With the subtlety of a bulldozer, I turn around in place looking for Diana, not sure whether I want to talk to her or avoid her altogether. Sure, last night and this morning before everything happened was amazing, but something about her reaction to Rodrigo’s ill-timed arrival told me not to bet my life savings on everything going to plan.

We’re supposed to go out to dinner together at the restaurant tonight right after the show. But are we even going out now that this tool was here, or was she going to cancel? Diana wouldn’t do that to me, right? Or to Rachel? Or her daughters? She wouldn’t abandon our plans last minute for an absentee piece of shit father who decided to show up only because he felt threatened, right?

Rachel saves me from spiraling any further when I catch her running towards me, beaming like I’ve never seen her before—at least not since her mother passed. “Dad! Did you see? Did you see how cool we were?”

The way she calls me Dad will never stop feeling incredible to me.

“It was amazing, kid!” I tell her, squatting and wrapping her tightly in my arms, needing to feel her support likely more than she needs to feel mine now. I squeeze my eyes shut, and relish in this love I never thought I would have or even want. It’s horrible to think it took Jessie dying to get this, but I know she’d be happy that what came out of it was this amazing relationship Rachel and I have. “You looked incredible up there! Taylor Swift herself would’ve been so proud to see the dance.”

“And people were singing in the audience! Did you see?”

“I know,” I say with a laugh. Even I can admit the song is a banger. “It was amazing.”

“Are we headed home first to change, or going straight to dinner?” she asks, practically bouncing with glee. “Because I know the restaurant is kinda-fancy-but-not-fancy but I really don’t want to change from our costumes because, like, when else are we going to wear them, you know? And I loooooove my sparkly sneakers.” She looks down at her pink rhinestoned shoes with as much adoration as I feel for her.

“You’re my kid and that’s my restaurant. You can dress however you want, and so can the girls.”

She beams up at me. “Awesome! I’m gonna go tell Cami and Emi that we can leave them on, then!”

Rachel starts to loosen her grip on my hands to turn and go in search of her friends but I stop her, pulling her back to face me.

“Um, wait. Are… are they with their mom? And dad?” I try not to wince.

Rachel’s previously glowing expression fades, her smile drops. “I don’t know if their dad is with them… Are you guys breaking up?”

I stand, every muscle in my body tense. “Breaking up? No, I— But— The thing is—” I stop stuttering for a second and take a deep breath. “You knew? That we were together, I mean?”

Rachel rolls her eyes at me—something Diana warned me I should get ready for before she enters her teenage years—and laughs once. “Dad, it is so obvious you guys, like, love each other.” She gags. “I mean, it’s kinda cute but also kinda gross?”

“I…” I shake my head, not knowing what to say. She knew? And… love?

“Wait, are you not dating? I’m confused.”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I think so.” We were. We are. We fucking spent almost the entire summer together. Her and I. And the girls. Us.

And last night…

“You think so?” She frowns, hands on her hips.

I sigh once. “Grown ups are complicated, Rach. But I think we are.”

She hesitates before smiling once more. “Okay, well that’s great, then. Right?”

“Yeah?” I sigh, relief flooding my system. “You think that’s great?”

“Yeah! Diana’s the best. She was super nice all summer. And I love Cami and Emi. And, like, it would be so cool to have sisters, you know? Because I don’t have any and⁠—”

“Whoa, hold up. Sisters?” My heart begins a strong gallop, my breathing grows fast and shallow.