The Unexpected Everything(69)
“A week,” my dad countered, and I nodded.
“But I get to go to work,” I said, “and the grounding doesn’t start at night until seven p.m.”
“Call it six and you’ve got a deal,” my dad said, starting the car. He glanced over at me. “I realize that things might have gotten a little lax with Joy,” he said, and I just nodded, deciding that he probably didn’t need to know I’d been without a curfew for years now. “But that’s going to have to change now.”
“There’s a new sheriff in town?” I asked. My dad smiled, and it hit me how rarely I’d seen it—not my dad’s candidate smile, but the one that was meant just for me.
“You got it,” he said. “And punctuality is going to be the coin of the realm.” My dad started to shift the car out of park, then put it back and looked over at me. “I don’t want you to think . . . ,” he started, talking mostly to the steering wheel. “I miss her so much, you know,” he said, his voice wobbling. “Every day. Even now I’m always thinking about things I want to tell her. Stuff she’d find funny. I didn’t even know what I was doing that first year. It was like someone had turned off the sun. The center of everything was suddenly gone.”
“Me too,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for just the two of us in the quiet of the car.
My dad looked over at me and gave me a small smile. I gave him one back, and we stayed that way for just a moment before he looked ahead, shifted the car out of park, and drove us home.
PALMER
Andie is all okay? Why was your dad at the diner?
Tom hasn’t stopped talking about him,
which is really fun for me.
BRI
Your DAD showed up at the diner?! Wha?
PALMER
Is your car still there? WHAT’S GOING ON?!?
TOBY
ME
All okay! Long story. But will explain.
Oh, also, I’m grounded for a week.
PALMER
Wait, what?
BRI
What’d you do?
PALMER
But why is your car still at the diner?
BRI
Want me to hot-wire it?
ME
You know how to do that?
TOBY
BRI
I MIGHT be able to do it, Toby. You don’t know.
I just need a screwdriver, right?
I’ve seen enough movies that I’m pretty sure I could figure it out.
ME
Um, figure it out on McQueen first
BRI
Can you video chat later? We need explanations
PALMER
Seconded
TOBY
ME
Yes, DEFINITELY. I’ll text you guys soon.
I had just set my phone down on the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang. I smiled, wondering if it was Palmer. She’d sometimes drop by when she didn’t think I was texting back fast enough. I was headed toward the foyer when I heard the door open on its squeaky hinges and realized my dad must have beaten me there.
“Andie?” my dad called, and I increased my pace, suddenly hoping that Bri hadn’t gone ahead and tried to hot-wire my car.
“Is it Palmer?” I asked as I rounded the corner.
“Your—um—friend is here,” my dad called, and I stopped short. Clark was standing there, carrying a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of flowers and what looked like a CD.
“Hi,” I said, confused, trying to figure out what he was doing there, until it hit me all at once. We were supposed to have a date tonight. We were supposed to have a date now. With everything that had happened today, I had totally forgotten. “Oh,” I said, then stopped when I realized I had no idea what to say after that.
“It’s nice to see you again, sir,” Clark said, holding out his hand to my dad, sounding nervous, talking much faster than he usually did. “I was just reading up on the education initiative you spearheaded last year. It sounded fascinating.”
My dad’s eyebrows went up. “Were you really?”
“I surely was,” Clark said, and I could clearly tell how much preparation he’d done—which was making me feel even worse that I had forgotten our date.
“Well,” my dad said, raising an eyebrow at Clark. “That’s impressive. We’ll have to discuss it in depth sometime.”
Clark smiled, but I noticed he had turned a shade paler. I shot my dad a quick look, and he nodded. “I’ll give you guys a minute,” he said, heading back toward the kitchen—but not closing the door all the way, I noticed.
I looked at Clark, who was wearing another button-down shirt, green this time, and I could still see the comb tracks in his hair. I looked down at myself—I was wearing cutoffs and a T-shirt, nothing hugely offensive, but not what I would ever wear on a date. “So,” I said, taking a step nearer to him. As I did, I remembered this morning, the gentle way he’d brushed my hair back, how close together we’d been. I blinked and made myself focus on the present moment and how much I’d managed to mess it up. “Okay. Here’s the thing. Today’s been kind of crazy.”