55. June
55
JUNE
I t’s not easy to make my way through the crowd. Anderson was right about the dress—not quite the right selection for the event. My wedding dress marks me as a target, so everyone wants to stop and talk to the bride. On my way to my father, I peruse the setting.
Kitty outdid herself. The main tent is set up over a dancefloor with tables surrounding it, enough for a few hundred guests for supper. The other adjoined tents have smaller dance floors and bars, and one has an hors d'oeuvres buffet. Each table is set with pale pink peonies and lush greenery. Glass dome-covered candles somehow burn, even though they’re sealed. I don’t know what trickery is involved, but it’s lovely.
I get distracted by guests and scenery, but eventually, I reach my dad.
He is gussied up for today. His suit is designer, like his shoes, and he has a fresh haircut. He went out of his way to make a good impression today, and I’m not sure if that’s for me or because this place is crawling with rich people.
I’d like to think it’s for me, but I have known the man for too long.
“Hey, Dad.”
He smiles, and I don’t know why, but it makes me feel like a little kid again. “Hey, Junebug.” He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Really?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I shrug. “I don’t … I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … I got married. After your marriages, I figured you’d be kind of sour on the whole thing.”
“All I want is for you to be happy. If marrying Anderson makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He nods away from the crowd, and we end up near the outside of one of the tents. “I have to say, I was a little surprised I wasn’t invited to this shindig.”
“Like I said, I never expected you to be okay with this kind of thing, so I didn’t want you to feel awkward.”
He sighs, still smiling, but it’s sad now. “Then, going forward, please know that I’m happy if you’re happy. My life, as complicated as it’s been, is not the standard by which I judge everyone else’s life. So, for important events like this one, I’d like to be invited. If you’ll have me, that is.”
It’s strange to want to believe my father. Every instinct tells me he’s lying. History tells me he’s up to something. But the little girl in me wants to believe her father. I want to think he’s being genuine, even with all the odds against it.
“Yeah, Dad. We can make that happen.”
“Glad to hear it. Once I knew about this event, it made me realize just how much I want to be a part of your life. I would have hated to miss this. You’re important to me, Junebug. I want you to know that.”
It’s no wonder he’s always had a string of women after him and people to rip off. He’s slick. I hate that I’m being taken in by it, but I am. Or maybe he’s being real with me right now. I’ll probably never know.
“You’re important to me, too, Dad. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah.” I nod and smile. “You finally get to meet my husband.”
“I’ve already met his parents. They’re characters.”
I chuckle. “Oh, you have no idea.”
“Thankfully, they had the good grace not to bring up the fact they didn’t invite me, and I showed up at their home.”
“I think special exceptions are made for parents at these things.”
“Speaking of, is your mom coming?”
I shake my head. “Kitty invited her, but apparently, she’s on a business trip in Des Moines and couldn’t leave it.”
Dad’s lips tighten. “That … that must be some important trip for her to miss this.” Translation, “I am judging your mother for being absent on such an important day, but I am trying not to talk shit about her to you.”
“I’m sure it is. And it’s fine. Hell, I got married without either of you. I’m pretty sure she’s pissed about that, and that’s why she’s not here.”
The truth is, I had cried for an hour when I found out she wasn’t coming. She told me in no uncertain terms she was hurt that we got married without her, and so she wasn’t going to celebrate a marriage she had nothing to do with. Then, she hung up on me. I was glad Anderson was at work for all of that, but when he came home, it took him one look at me to know I’d been crying, and when he brought it up, I lost my shit and cried all over again. But he held me until I calmed down and then ordered me a pizza because he’s the best man ever.
I’m not about to tell Dad any of that. When it comes to all things Mom, I’ve decided I’m not giving him any fuel against her. And vice versa. Neither of them needs to know a thing about the other. If they want to patch things up, that’s between them. I refuse to be any kind of a go-between.
He tsks, shaking his head. “I’m no expert on weddings or marriages, Lord knows, but a wedding should be for the couple. Whatever they want. I hope you had the wedding you wanted, Junebug.”
“I did. Thanks for not giving me shit about eloping?—"
His laugh carries. “I could stand here and pretend to be the bigger man about it, but I can admit when something bothers me. There was a tiny part of me that was upset I didn’t get to give my daughter away at her wedding, but I’m pretty sure that kind of honor needs to be earned, and I haven’t done that yet. Maybe in ten years’ time, you and Anderson can do a vow renewal, and I’ll get to do it then.”
“Ten years is an awful long time for you to be on your best behavior,” I tease.
He chuckles. “You’ve got a point there. We’ll play it by ear.”
I’m not sure about any of this. Is he being honest with me? Or is he playing the role of the doting father to butter up anyone who might be watching? It’s impossible to know. But maybe I can keep my father in my life if I keep him at a distance. Close enough to have lunches, far enough to keep him away from the Wests’ friends’ money.
I didn’t know tightrope walking came with wedding territory, but here we are.
The band stops, and we hear Kitty’s voice over a microphone. “If you will all take your seats, we will get started.”
Dad leans in and asks, “How is it rich people start a sentence like it’s a question but end it with them telling you what they want you to do?”
I giggle. “I can’t say, but in my experience, they all seem to manage it.”
He puts out his arm for me to take, and I do. From the outside of the tent, he leads me to the head table near the stage, where Anderson and his parents are already seated. He stands, smiling at my father. Dad says, “You must be the man who married my little girl.”
“Mr. Devlin, how nice to finally meet you.”
“And you.” He gives me another hug and cheekily says, “See? I got to give you away today.”
I roll my eyes. “Sneaky.”
“Mr. Devlin,” Kitty begins. “Won’t you please join us here?” She gestures to a place setting next to mine.
To my surprise, he gives me a look as though he’s checking in with me. I smile and nod, and he says, “I’d be delighted. Thank you, Mrs. West.”
We take our seats, and in that moment, I am overwhelmed. There are a few hundred eyes on us, and it’s like being under a microscope. If Anderson weren’t next to me, I’d bolt out of here. He leans in close, “Just a few more hours.”
“How’d you know?” I whisper.
“You have the same look you had when you were on stage at the auction.”
I snort a laugh, thinking back to all those months ago. How had I gone from auctioning my body to a random man to then marrying said man … it’s been one hell of a ride. But with him at my side, I can handle being the center of attention. For now.