When the moment has passed, Declan and my father smooth out the invisible wrinkles in their shirts, clearing their throats. I ogle over this adorable exchange between the two most important men in my life.
“You two got here quick. You better not have sped the whole way down. Cops out here don’t miss a beat.” My father is back to being stern. He has to make up for that man hug.
“Daddy, stop beating around the bush. How is she?”
His forehead crinkles, the lines of worry creasing around his eyes. I hadn’t noticed it the last time I was home, but my dad is starting to look old. The thought of him and my mother aging piled onto the whole cancer scare is enough to bring me back into panic mode. But for the sake of my already worried father, I keep myself in check.
“She’s tired. I finally convinced her to go to sleep, because the stubborn old bag wanted to wait up for you. It was a rough day, sweetie. And the next few days of waiting will be even more intense so the fact that you’re here…it means...everything.”
“Would you stop making it like I’m doing you a favor, Daddy? I’m only away at college. I still technically live here, this is my home and we’re talking about my mother. Why wouldn’t I be here? Stop thanking me.”
My father lifts his head and stares at me for a few seconds before he smiles, revealing his handsome dimples. “When did you grow up, sweet pea? I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Okay, this man must want me to cry. Sweet pea is our private little thing and revealing my childhood nickname in front of Declan...when did I grow up? Before I left for college I couldn’t wait to be free, but now, being home, feeling like a stranger in my own house, I wish I was that little girl again. Then my father could wipe away my tears, kiss away my boo-boos and everything would be right with the world.
I look over to Declan, who is taking it all in and realize that he is ready to step to the plate and fill those shoes now. I’m overwhelmed with so many emotions, both bittersweet and hopeful. But I take my father’s hand and Declan’s and walk us into the living room where we can be more comfortable to talk to about what’s to come.
Three days later we’re seated at the kitchen table, eating dinner. My mom hasn’t been in the mood to cook, another clear sign of how out of it she feels, so we’re huddled around take-out containers of Chinese food. I can’t blame her for her current state of depression. It’s taking every ounce of me not to join her in her frequent bouts of tears and rants, but my dad’s right. I’m a grown up now, and I need to be here for her. My parents have been there for me through every minor scrape and bruise for the last twenty-one years. My turn to repay the favor.
Declan is playing with the leftover broccoli on his plate, his fork scraping against the porcelain mindlessly.
“Penny for your thoughts, Declan?” My mother interrupts the comfortable silence.
He breaks out of his daze and darts his eyes from my mom, to my dad, then to me, landing back on my dad again. “Mr. P., I know this is going to sound completely crazy and maybe even inappropriate for the moment, but I...I need to ask you something.”
The three of us stare at Declan completely flummoxed. In the past three days everyone’s mood has been solemn. We danced around the reason for us to be together, the issue that had us all walking around on eggshells. We talked mainly about school; my dad even helped the both of us with a confusing assignment from our history professor. So I can’t imagine what Declan is about to ask.
“Sure, Declan, shoot.” My father takes a sip of his beer.
“Well, Sir...I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Page, I know it’s sudden and this probably seems out of left field, but...I love your daughter more than I ever thought I would love anyone. I never expected to fall so hard, so quick. I imagined having this conversation at a much later date in time, certainly not with the weight of this circumstance looming over us. But, if these last few days have shown me anything, it’s that you have to live in the moment.”
I reach over to my dad’s beer, grab the bottle and take a huge swig. I need a drink for this.
“I guess what I’m saying is. Mr. Page, I intend on asking Mia to marry me and I would love your blessing.”
I wolf down the rest of the beer, banging the empty bottle down on the table with a loud thud. Maybe I should get another one from the fridge. Dad probably needs it more than I do. I start to rise from my seat at the table, but my father places a hand in front of me, warning me to stay put. All the while his eyes do not leave Declan.
My mother is the first to break the awkward hush that’s come over us all. “Mia, are you pregnant?”