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Real Life
Maia
“Dad?Youhere?”Icall, walking in the back door of the house. He appears in the kitchen a moment later with a smile on his face.
“Hey, kid. What’s up? You hungry?”
I chuckle at that. “If you’re cooking, I’m always hungry, Dad.”
He walks over to the fridge and starts pulling out leftovers, then grabs a pan and sets it on the burner. My dad hates warming things in the microwave. He says it kills the texture and flavor. He might be right about that, but… effort.
“So, what’s up?” he asks, turning to me as the pan heats up.
I bite at my lip for a second. “Well, I did a thing, then I realized I probably should’ve asked you before I did said thing. Now I’m here to tell you about it.”
“What’s the thing?”
“I asked Vince to move into the apartment with me. Then I realized it’syourapartment, and I don’t pay rent and don’t have any right to just ask him that without checking with you first.”
He gives me a knowing smile. “Asked him to move in, huh? That’ll be good for him, save him some money on all the gas he wastes driving back and forth to Noah’s to grab more clothes. I’m not dumb, Mai. I know he spends almost every night there.” He laughs. “You already have a kid. I presume you’re—”
Horror courses through my veins. “Dad, can we not?” Flustered, I try to redirect the conversation. “I’m not worried about my perceived virtue. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with it—okay with him living here—and you don’t think it’s too soon or anything.”
His eyebrows go up. Leaning over the counter on his elbows, he searches my face. “Doyouthink it’s too soon?”
“No. I mean—not exactly. I think it’s right for us. But it’s only been a few months, and I’m letting the idea of how long we’re supposed to wait and how old we are get in my head.”
He nods, then turns back to the pan, adding a heaping pile of eggplant parm and a chicken cutlet to it. The comforting sizzling sound mixed with the sudden burst of smell makes my mouth water.
He puts a top over it, turns the heat down, and looks back at me. “There will always be people out there telling you to follow certain rules or act a certain way. Don’t listen. Follow your heart. Trust your gut. Those will always lead you to the right place. What does your heart say?”
“That I love him and I want to wake up next to him every morning.”
“And what does your gut say?”
I pause for a moment and take a deep breath, shutting out my ridiculous fears of what other people might think and my own anxiety. My gut speaks loud and clear. “That we’re going to last,” I whisper.
He winks at me. “Then you’re all good. I’m happy to have Vince living here. He’s always been like family to me, and seeing the way he treats you—it’s everything I could ever wish for youandfor Harper.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“What’s the timeframe for this move?”
A blush creeps up my cheeks. “We might’ve gone and packed a bunch of his clothes last night. Enough to last until next weekend. We figure we’ll spend next week packing and figuring out what he wants to bring and move next weekend since this weekend is graduation.”
“Are you excited for graduation?”
I tilt my head back and forth. “Kind of. I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to look back and regret the fact that I didn’t have some crazy live-it-up senior year. But I love my life how it is, even if it’s not a typical high school life. I’m excited for graduation because I’m ready to close this chapter, but now all the nostalgia is hitting me and I’m acutely aware that one massive phase of my life is coming to an end. I’d say I’m growing up, but I think I already did that.”
Dad laughs. “You did in many ways. And I’m proud of you. You took situations that would break a lot of people and faced them head on while continuing to grow. You were so worried if you’d even be able to finish high school—now you have. And you’ve got college lined up. I’m proud of you, your strength, how hard you fight.” He leans over the counter and kisses my forehead. “I love you, kid.”
“I love you too, Dad. And I could not have done any of it without you. And I’m still going to screw things up and need your help.”
He smiles knowingly and turns back to the stove. “I’m counting on it.” He moves things around in the pan, then pops the top back on. Facing me again, he asks, “Where’s Vince at today?”
“Ah, he’s having a similar conversation with Noah.”
My dad squints at me. “You were worried about how I’d react, but he’s already telling Noah?”
