The Way You Make Me Feel(30)

“Really?” I racked my brain for when they could have had dates in the past two months. It seemed like my dad was home a lot in the evenings, so when did this happen?

As if reading my mind, he said, “She’s been helping me out with restaurant stuff. Since before you guys started working on the truck.”

“You sly dog.”

He made a face. “Gross,” he said, throwing the word back at me. I laughed. He looked over at me, nervous again. “So, Clara. I think we’re a little serious? Kody and I.”

Whether it was the words or the tone of my dad’s voice, I didn’t know, but my stomach flipped. “Oh, okay.” I looked down at my eggs and tried to keep any trace of weirdness out of my voice.

“Yeah. Like, maybe more serious than anyone else in my entire life.”

I glanced up then, my eyebrows raised. “What? No way.”

“Yes way.”

And the tells—the tiny pieces of egg, his foot tapping on the stool bar, his impeccably shaved jawline—were suddenly clear. He was serious.

“Pai! Why would you want to settle down now? This is like, your prime of life!” I held my fork up in the air for emphasis.

He laughed. “Okay, sixteen-year-old daughter. In case you couldn’t tell, I was forced to settle down a long time ago.” I blinked. Because even though my dad never, ever complained about being a young dad, I always wondered about his regrets. How his need to keep abandoned, sad things might apply to me, too.

Pai kept talking. “Anyway. Kody’s older than me by a little bit, and she’s thinking about the future, too. The crowd’s starting to settle down.”

Every week there was a new wedding invitation or baby announcement in the mail. Our refrigerator was crowded with them. Script fonts letter-pressed into thick paper announcing some hip wedding or a giant newborn’s face, its hands in mittens and its face always froglike and never cute. I guess I always thought that phase of my dad’s life was over. The thought of Kody and him getting married one day … having a kid? It was too much for my brain to handle.

I changed the subject. “Well, be sure to drink a lot of merlots or whatever it is people do.”

He laughed. “Thanks. Aren’t you excited to have some privacy for once?” He paused, holding his fork in the air for a second. “Privacy for reading books and finishing your knitting home alone, that is.”

“Ha ha.” I took a sip of tea. “You know I don’t know how to read.”

He pulled his Dodgers cap down over his eyes. “Well, just knitting then.”

I smiled. He wasn’t saying it, but this was a big step. Pre-cafeteria fire he was cool with leaving me alone for a night or two. But post-fire, he had been more watchful than he had ever been in my life. Leaving me alone was a gesture—to show that I was regaining his trust.

My dad and Kody headed off for Santa Barbara shortly after. “Enjoy those tannins!” I yelled from the balcony, standing barefoot on the metal railing as I leaned over and watched them drive away.

After working the KoBra that day, I had the evening free. I picked up my phone to see what Patrick and Felix were up to. But my fingers hovered over the screen, and I ended up texting Rose.

Let me guess: you’re brushing up on constitutional law tonight?

She immediately texted back: Ha. Are you enjoying the heroin den?

You took the joke too far

Too accurate?

Yeah I draw the line at doing drugs that require accessories for them

I waited a second before typing: How did the dinner with the senator go?

I was searching for a senatorial-looking emoji when another text popped up. M?e.

No Tulum???

Shoot. I guess my dad did tell her. I texted back immediately: I’m working on it! We’re doing good on the truck—he’ll cave.

K k got it. Make your eyes like this . Your dad’s a sucker for that kinda stuff.

I wanted to agree, to LOL, but I realized my mom didn’t actually know Pai at all anymore. Current Pai was no longer the doormat of the past. Then I noticed the barrage of texts from Rose updating me on the senator dinner. She was excited because it went well. I had settled into the sofa and was texting with her when someone knocked. Flo jumped off my lap and ran over to the entrance, her nose poking at the space under the door.

“Clara!”

Felix? What in the world.

I dragged myself to the door. “What are you doing here?” The words were out of my mouth before the door fully opened.

He was spiffed up—his thick hair tousled just so, smelling good, and wearing his tightest black jeans. “You’re coming with us.” I saw Patrick’s car idling on the curb.

I nudged Flo out of the way with my foot so she wouldn’t escape. “What? Where?”

“Some party. Come on, we barely see you anymore. I’ll give you five minutes to get ready.”

“What, I don’t look good enough?” My arm swept over my ripped white tank top and knee-length sweat shorts.

He raised his eyebrows and shot me a wolfish grin. “You always look good, babe.”

“God.” Felix was full of moves, and two years ago I had fallen for all of them. “Give me a second.” I ran upstairs and got dressed in record time. I remembered to grab my cell as I was headed out the door, sending Rose a text: Want to do something fun for once?