28. To Get the Girl
To Get the Girl
MARY
Betty insisted I see her at Miragelite, but I wasn’t sold that was the best idea.
After confiding in Pappa about why her showing up was a bad idea, he suggested we attend her horse show.
In theory, it made sense. I had a day off shooting to relax before our big set.
She needed a cheering squad, and I would rack up all the points.
So even though I felt as if I were losing my mind getting up at an ungodly hour, I resigned to drive two hours to see Betty compete in something called cross-country.
I knew my bandmates were hanging out with edgy bands in the VIP while my Scandinavian ass was suffering in the heat at a horse show, but I couldn’t deny betty the reassurance my presence brought.
As I posted by the door, Pappa arrived, looking like a Swedish tourist in walking shoes, hiking shorts, and a polo. He affixed a ball cap with a Swedish flag on his head.
“Are you cosplaying Swedish?” I joked.
“I do not know that one,” he said. “We must represent ourselves against a Norwegian.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
“And here. Be low-key.” He handed me the LA Kings hat he’d insisted on at the airport.
“Really, the hockey hat?” I feared he watched far too much American TV in his old age.
“You need an incognito.”
“Fair. But I look stupid in hats.”
“If she loves you, she won’t care,” Dad said.
As we settled into the hired car assigned to take us, I realized how happy Pappa was. He couldn’t stop smiling. As a man who rarely got too excited about even the best news, I knew I’d made his life a little brighter on this trip. I forgot what it was like to be able to make someone so happy.
“You’re pleased, aren’t you?” I teased.
He patted my hand. “Marit, you are very well-regarded. I have been flown first-class, wined, and dined by a record-label, and now this? You’re about to introduce to me to a real, live woman!”
“Don’t say it like you are that surprised, Pappa!”
“You haven’t brought home a single girl since Bea,” Pappa insisted. “That has been nearly a decade, yes?”
I shrugged.
“She sounds nice.”
“She is. This all feels so ridiculous, though.”
“Why? You want to get the girl! If she’s going to your show, then you need to go to hers.”
“I’m terrified of horses,” I admitted. “And now I have to smell them all day.”
He snickered and patted my back. I wanted to tell him more about Betty but felt too protective to bring more attention to who Betty was beyond the pretty redhead who had stolen my heart while I performed.
Once I mentioned her parents, it would be another line of questions and more expectations.
I prayed he hadn’t developed a sudden interest in the Norwegian royals and left her only as Betty.
As we crawled closer, my heart swelled. Dad grinned knowingly.
I shook my head. “Calm down. Pappa, She’s special. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Me?” He pointed at his chest innocently.
“Yes, you! She’s sweet and bubbly and not at all my type. I don’t need you pointing that out awkwardly. She speaks Swedish, so you can’t just assume she doesn’t understand.”
“She’d have to be a true idiot not to be able to understand Swedish,” he said.
I stifled a hearty laugh. “She’s not. She’s clever.”
“I’m not going to say anything. You keep talking about her now. That’s good. I just wanted to see you be happy, sweetheart. After your mother died—”
“It was hard,” I said. “She’s the first person I can actually see myself happy with since then.”
He squeezed my hand tight. “Well, I’m relieved—not just because of the girl, either.
No. It’s all you put aside for your mother.
I worried your career would take a big hit.
I never said it. What good did it do? Your mother needed you.
You have the biggest heart, Marit. But I like to think the universe will pay you back. So, I held onto that for you.”
His words were almost too sweet.
I teared. “Thanks, Pappa. I really hope that’s the case.”
“Live your dream. Nothing is promised, Marit.”
“It’s not,” I agreed. “I remind myself all the time.”