One thing I’ve always loved about my parents is that no matter what they’re doing, they like being in the same room. So if Daddy is doing paperwork on the patio, Mom is usually sitting there beside him with a pitcher of iced tea and a home decorating guide or the Bible. Today she’s flipping through a brochure because Daddy is taking her on a cruise to Spain in a few weeks for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
“Don’t forget we’re doing food baskets tomorrow after services,” Mom says to Daddy.
“You know you won’t let me forget,” he says, smiling at her. I swear, she could ask him to enter a beauty pageant and he’d slap a big grin on his face and go forth and conquer. Mom and Daddy have always been big churchgoers and care about God, just like I do. Mom leads a weekly Bible study for elderly people at church and Daddy plans (and usually wins) the annual Chili Cook-off.
“I saw that the Belmont registration booklet came today,” Daddy says, licking his finger before turning a page in his case file.
“Yup,” I reply.
“Do you want to go over it together? Pick out some classes?”
Technically I have another three weeks to register. I need that time because I have no idea what I want to study. Law, like my family? Physical therapy? Psychology? Art? When Emily came back from D.C., she told me she had met a girl there who was planning to major in The Simpsons.
Maybe if God doesn’t give me a sign about forgiving me for helping Emily, he will at least tell me what to do with my life. “Can you let me go through the catalog a few more times first?” I ask.
“It makes sense to be well-prepared. Good girl.” Daddy puts his pen back in his mouth and pores over his paperwork. It amazes me that he really enjoys reading all that mumbo jumbo. It’s so…black and white? Where’s the color?
I open my sketchbook and draw the tulips that Mom can’t seem to get situated. She keeps adjusting the vase and arranging the flowers. How does Daddy handle all that racket Mom makes while he’s trying to work?
If you hang out with a person for a long, long time, do you just get used to the differences?
“I ran into Bill Mansfield down at Foothills this morning,” he says. Foothills is this diner where he reads the paper every Saturday morning.
Bill Mansfield is Emily’s dad.
“Did he mention Emily?” Mom asks.
“Not a word,” Daddy says, putting his pen back in his mouth.
Mom turns to me. “Have you talked to her?”
I bow my head and shake it.
“Are you ready to tell us what happened?” Mom asks me. All my parents know is that Emily had a fight with her parents and that she moved out. They know we had a fight too, but I can’t say anything without betraying Emily.
Without telling my parents what a horrible person I am.
“No, thank you,” I say quietly. The shame erases the excitement I had about my date.
My parents look at each other.
“I’ll keep praying for her,” Mom says, and I focus on filling the paper in front of me with tulips until the doorbell rings.
Daddy leaps to his feet with a pen in his mouth and a case file in his hand, and rushes to the front door. I groan inwardly. From the hallway, I listen as Matt introduces himself to Daddy, then I shuffle over to find Matt standing there with hands in his pockets. He has on flip-flops! This is the first time I’ve seen him in shoes since he was thirteen. He’s wearing holey jeans and a wrinkled, weathered, white polo. The leather cord holding a silver cross hangs around his neck.
“Hi,” he mouths at me.
“Hey,” I mouth back, giving him a wave.
He grins and it’s so cute, I have to catch my breath.
But I wish he’d dressed up more to meet my parents. And for me, for that matter. Maybe I’ve got this all wrong? Maybe he only wants to be friends? Why would I be so boastful as to think he’d want something more with a girl like me anyway?
He glances around at our marble foyer and swallows.
Before I can even say hi, Mom is brushing past me to shake Matt’s hand.
“Tell your mother I said hello,” she says to him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt replies. His eyes flash to the moose head on the wall (Daddy shot it last year), then he focuses on me again. “Are you ready to go to dinner now? Or did you want to hang out here for a bit?”
“Whatever’s best for you,” I say, wringing my fingers together. Should I go change out of this dress into something more casual? Should I call Parker to ask? How could I have been so stupid as to think this was a date? He didn’t even bring flowers.
“I’m starved,” he says with a laugh.
“Y’all have fun,” Daddy says, kissing my forehead.
“What time should I have her home, sir?” Matt asks.
“Kate doesn’t have a curfew. We trust her.”
“We have church in the morning,” Mom says.
“Just call if you’re gonna be real late,” Dad adds.
“Okay,” I reply, and give Mom a kiss bye. Matt leads me outside and I laugh. “You put the doors on your Jeep?”
He smiles. “I didn’t figure your mom and dad would appreciate it if I put you in danger.”
Him putting the doors on his Jeep is kind of like giving me flowers.
“You look really pretty, by the way,” he says, jingling his keys.
“You look pretty too,” I say, smiling.
He looks over his shoulder toward my porch. I think our house with its eight white Corinthian columns freaks him out. “Where does your dad work?”
“He’s an attorney.”
“He must be cutthroat, eh?”
“Depends on the situation, I guess.”
“That would explain Vincent Moose on the wall in there.”
“Vincent Moose?” I smile.