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“Thank you, Hallie,” Sandra replies, beaming.
“They are good,” I admit, taking another bite.
They’re fudgy and peanut butter-y. Cressida would probably love the recipe.
“How are your classes going, Saylor?” Sandra asks, chugging right along on the try-to-get-to-know-you train.
“Fine, I think,” I reply. “I’ve only been to one in the last couple weeks.”
“One?” Sandra replies, looking startled. “Were you sick? Marcus didn’t mention…” Her voice trails, ending in the awkwardness of us all knowing my dad is not exactly well-informed about my life.
“No, I just had soccer,” I respond matter-of-factly.
Sandra looks to Hallie for backup, but Hallie just sighs and shrugs.
We’ve had this argument many times before.
“I’m sure your professors—your advisors—they must know how important your classes are,” Sandra says. “You’re at school to receive a degree.”
My shoulders tense. “My professors and my advisors would rather I win another national championship than attend class. I’m at Lancaster on a full athletic scholarship. I’m there to play soccer.”
Sandra frowns. “Surely they don’t expect every student who’s on an athletic team to give up every other aspect of their college experience.”
“Saylor takes soccer very seriously,” Hallie says, shooting me a warning look when I open my mouth.
“That’s…wonderful,” Sandra tells me, sounding uncertain that’s the right adjective. “I was never that athletic myself, so it’s hard for me to imagine that dedication.”
I take another bite of cookie.
“Well…I should get to bed,” Hallie says. “Matthew will most likely wake me up in a few hours.”
“Oh, of course.” Sandra stands. “I’m sorry to have imposed for so long.”
“Not an imposition at all.” Hallie rises also. “The dress is in Matt’s office. Here, I’ll show you.”
“Good night, Saylor,” Sandra tells me.
“Night,” I reply, before they head upstairs.
I’m already wearing my pajamas, so I just have to duck into the half bath to brush my teeth before climbing under the covers on the couch. I close my eyes and inhale the unfamiliar scent of whatever laundry detergent Hallie uses.
Low voices converse a few minutes later, then I hear steps head down the hallway. The front door opens and closes.
More footsteps. Closer. “Saylor?” Hallie whispers.
I don’t answer.
There’s a sigh. “Good night.”
I lie there for a while before I finally fall asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
This is only the second wedding I’ve ever attended. The few friends I have who are in relationships are still a long ways away from what’s meant to be a lifetime commitment.
My mother is an only child, and the few hazy memories I have of her side of the family turned to wisps of smoke around the same time she disappeared. They didn’t keep in touch, much less invite us to any celebratory events.
And rather than relying on his family after becoming a single father, my dad retreated from his. Maybe we do share some DNA after all.
