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Just when I think this awkward moment is going to end, my dad walks in.
“I was on the phone and your mother was insistent that she deliver you warm eggs.”
“Nobody likes cold eggs,” my mom confirms.
My dad comes over to kiss me on the forehead. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Dad. Now, I think—”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” my mom rushes out of the room only to return with a gift bag in her hands. “We wanted to give this to you last night but then you snuck off.” She winks at us. “I get it. I was a newlywed once, too.”
After my mom’s sexual compatibility comment, I’m terrified of what might be in the bag. Griffin makes no move to reach in either so I bite the bullet and pull out the tissue paper. Wrapped inside the tissue is a novelty pillow like the rest of my collection. I turn it over. Our names—Griffin and Emma—are sewn on the front with a heart between them, the date we got married stitched beneath.
“I rushed to get it made,” my mom says. “It’s been a while since you added to the collection. Do you like it?”
I stare down at the pillow, then back up to my mom’s beaming face. It’s only a pillow but for some reason seeing our names on it, stitched meticulously together, joined in the middle with a small heart is making me feel unsettled. Getting married is a huge milestone, one I have dreamt about since I was little.
“Emma, I know you like the colorful pillows but I went neutral because I wanted to make sure it will work with your décor. Whatever you choose to pick out once you two find a place. Of course, there’s no rush to move out. You’re welcome here as long as you need.”
Words fail me and staring down at the pillow, it starts to blur.
“It’s great.” Griffin takes it from my hands and sets it on the bed. “Thank you.”
“Griffin, we didn’t have a chance to talk much last night.” My dad crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?”
“I don’t think now—"
I try to interject, but Griffin is already responding.
“I’m between jobs right now.”
My dad smirks. “And what field of work are you in?”
“I’ve been a professional dancer for the last eight years while attending college and then law school. I’m awaiting my bar exam results, but plan to practice business and commercial law.”
Law school? Bar exam?My head whips in Griffin’s direction. I’m about to open my mouth but realize it will be odd if I admit I don’t know any of this.
“A lawyer.” My dad nods. “Well, Em, I guess you have a type.”
“Philip,” my mom scolds. She knows how hard the breakup with Alec was. How much I invested in the relationship while Alec focused on his career.
“Enjoy your breakfast!” she calls before ushering my dad out the door and shutting it behind them.
I immediately turn to Griffin. “Did you make that up?”
“What? Law school?” He shakes his head. “No.”
“So, you’re really a lawyer?”
“Pending my passing of the bar.”
I stare at him.
“What about the revue?”
He shrugs. “Saturday night was my last night.”
I move the tray off my lap and get out of bed. This has got to be some kind of joke the universe is playing on me.
