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“Well, I’ve never seen you play in college, and?—”
“Exactly. You’ve never seen me play in college.” Or high school. Or middle school. Pretty sure the last time was in elementary school. “Why now?”
My father shifts uncomfortably while dancing. “I’m trying to do better. Be better. If you don’t want me—us—to come, that’s…understandable. Just say so.”
“No, it’s fine. You can come. Just let me know which game you want the tickets for.”
“We can buy our own tickets. I want to support your team.”
I snort. “The entire season is sold out. You won’t be able to get into the game unless I request them for you.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize…”
“That other people care about seeing me play?” I let a little bitterness seep into my voice.
“No,” he insists, although I’m certain I’m right. “I just—you always said women’s sports don’t get enough attention.”
“They don’t. I’m trying to change that.”
My dad looks at me, and it’s not with the uncertainty or discomfort I’m used to seeing. There’s pride etched in the lines of his face, and it feels good.
Despite our difficult relationship—if you could even call it one after years of animosity—it feels really good for him to look at me like that.
I resent him for a lot. But he’s trying, and it’s harder to ignore that up closer. Harder to avoid eye contact than to not return a phone call.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry for not calling much. The summer was…busy. I’ve been busy.”
“It’s okay, honey.”
The song ends before either of us can say anything else. Which is not a terrible note to end on.
When I return to my seat, dinner has been served. Hallie keeps glancing over at me, and I can tell she’s dying to ask what me and our dad were talking about, but she restrains herself.
After dinner, I make a beeline for the bar to finally get a drink. I’ve just ordered a gin and tonic when I hear a familiar voice.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the famous Saylor Scott gracing us with her presence.”
I turn to see Andy Jacobson has appeared to my left. “Have we met before?” I tease.
The lopsided grin many high schoolers fangirled over appears. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still breaking hearts, Scott?”
“Are you volunteering yours, Jacobson?”
His dimples deepen. “Nah. I learned my lesson.”
“That why you’re stalking me at my dad’s wedding?”
Andy clutches his chest in mock outrage. “Stalking? That’s harsh. I’m here to catch up with old friends.”
“Oh yeah? Who would that be?”
“Who wouldn’t it be? The whole town is here.”
“Yeah.” I let out a long exhale as the bartender hands me my drink. “I noticed.”
“Rare to have a celebrity in our midst.”
I scoff.
