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I kiss him a little too passionately considering my dad’s now standing behind me, but I don’t care. I love my stupid cheesy ring and I love him. It’s been four whole months, and I miss him.
With a chuckle, Josh breaks the kiss and nods over my shoulder at Dad. “You guys ready to go?” he asks, pointing to the limo waiting at the curb.
Dad rubs his hands together. “I’ve never been in a limo,” he says, marching down the steps. “Is there champagne?”
* * *
The event is held at a fancy hotel in the fancy part of downtown and the room is filled with fancy people who speak fancy words while consuming a fancy dinner. I’d ask Josh if he could purchase Sandra a ticket to the event, along with dad’s, knowing they weren’t able to afford them, because like I said, the event is fancy. I needed Sandra here so she could relay my speech. Sure, I could’ve written it in a way that Dad or Josh could translate for me, but I knew how much it meant to them to see me up on that stage and to celebrate my achievement together.
There’s a slideshow of the award winners’ work displayed on a huge projector screen up on the stage. There are only five awards, and that means only five images, and Josh and Dad make a show of applauding every single time Grams shows up on the screen.
Every.
Single.
Time.
It becomes a game to them, something the people sharing our table seem to find amusing. “That’s my girlfriend’s,” Josh says to anyone who will listen. “That’s my daughter’s,” Dad says, doing the same. And so the game continues and the night goes on and I watch in awe at the two men in my life who seem to have found a common ground. There’s no longer detest in my father’s eyes when he looks at Josh, and no longer fear in Josh’s when he looks at my dad. Now, there’s just an underlying respect and the knowledge that at the end of the day, they both want the same thing. They want to take care of me. They want to save me. And after everything that’s happened, I realize that it’s not so bad to let them do those things. As Dad once told me: It may be hard to ask for help, but that doesn’t mean I can’t accept it when it’s offered. Then he made a speech about bruised apples that made absolutely no sense.
Soon enough, the meals are over and silence descends as the president of Fine House takes the stage. I’d been given a program of the night, so I know that my award will be given last. I don’t know what I’d prefer. I sit through the speeches, one after the other, my knee bouncing and my palms sweating.
“You got this, babe,” Josh says, his hand on my knee under the table.
“I’m nervous,” I sign. “How do you do this all the time? Comps and media and photo-shoots.”
He chuckles. “You don’t want to know what I do.”
“I do!” I sign, nodding frantically. “Tell me.”
He leans in close, his lips skimming my ear. “I picture you naked.”
I rear back. “That helps?”
“No,” he says seriously. “I just like doing it. A lot.”
“Becca Owens!” the speaker on stage announces.
My eyes go huge.
Josh stands, his applause as loud as my dad’s. “Get it, baby,” Josh says.
Swear, I’ve never been so self-aware of the way I walk until this very moment. Every step is like walking in quick sand, and if Sandra wasn’t next to me, encouraging me to move forward, then I’d have run back into Josh’s arms. He wouldn’t let me, though. He’d probably throw me over his shoulder and make me stand on that stage while Dad cheered him on.
Good Lord, it’s hot.
Why is it so hot?
Why are the lights so bright?
How did I get on stage?
“You ready?” Sandra asks.
I nod. Then, “Oh my God,” I mouth. I sign to Sandra, “My speech is in my purse at the table.” Before I finish signing the last word, Josh is already jogging toward me, my purse held tightly in his grasp. He jumps on stage, ignoring the steps on either side of it. “Here you go, baby,” he says, handing me the purse and kissing my cheek. Then he faces the audience. “She’s my girlfriend,” he says, his shoulders square. The room fills with light chuckles. “Isn’t she cute when she’s nervous?”
I wait until he’s off the stage before getting the speech from my purse and unfolding the paper. I look over at Josh and my dad, the only two people in the room who are on their feet. Josh taps his nose, and then his chest, his cheesy grin causing me to do the same. I nod at Sandra who translates into the microphone, “That was my boyfriend. Isn’t he cute when he’s saving me?”
