A Perfect SEAL

“Why?” he asks.

At first, I don’t get the context. I didn’t even expect him to respond, or at least, not with anything short of derision. “What?”

“Why will you be there, if that’s how you feel?” he cl

arifies. He looks truly baffled.

My father the narcissist.

“Because, Reginald,” I tell him. “You’re my dad.”

He quietly stands. I can see that he still doesn’t really understand. He doesn’t need to, though. The only part he needs to get is that the dynamic between us has changed and is never going back.

Then he holds a hand out. I stand, weary, and reach for it to shake. His odd little gesture, a salute that I appreciate for what it is, even if it isn’t much.

But to my surprise, he tugs me forward when I take his hand and for the first time in my life, I’m fairly certain, my father hugs me.

Then he leaves.

He isn’t at the wedding. But that’s okay. Janie is. And she’s all I need.

Her, and my unborn daughter.

Epilogue

Janie

“You look beautiful,” Toia tells me in the bridal ready-room. It’s a massive bathroom that could easily double as a day spa, and Toia is busy making a few last-minute alterations to accommodate my belly. I never imagined myself pregnant when I wore my wedding dress, but looking at myself in the mirror I have to admit — Toia knows her shit.

She has saved me. I probably could have hired a wedding planner, but no one who was excited as Toia to help me out. The woman lives and breathes this world and I feel like a fish in a slowly heating pot of virgin coconut oil.

Everyone is here, mostly. Even Jake’s mother came in from out of town. She came to brunch with me, and to much amazement, Toia when we all went to get our hair and nails done. They say that boys look for women who remind them of their mothers. I’m inclined to agree. That lady is the definition of Type A.

All of it is, so far, going off without a hitch. So why am I nervous, and stressed, and even a little sad?

“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s hard to breathe. Nothing to do with the fit of the dress or the new and growing weight I’m carrying — which, if I may blow my own horn, I am carrying off fabulously well. There was really only one thing I wanted to happen on this day, and now that the countdown has begun it doesn’t look like it’s going to.

Chester peeks in through the bathroom door. “Janie I... holy shit, girl, you are drop-dead gorgeous in that dress. Um…” he blinks, and then remembers what he’s here for, “there’s this man that wants to see you…”

My heart stops for a moment. Chester has the door opened just enough that I can see a face behind and above him.

“Yeah,” Chester says when he sees my open mouth and wide eyes. “Hey, Toia! Let’s go sneak a cocktail off the bar.”

Toia holds up a finger, and pulls a pin from between her lips. “Almost,” she says. “Everyone… just… hold… there.” She stands back to look me over, and bids me turn one way and then the other. Finally, she smiles, and mutters something in a foreign language. Maybe Russian. She speaks three other languages, so who knows? “Beautiful,” she says quietly.

“I agree,” my father says as Chester lets him into the room.

“You made it.” The words catch in my throat. Chester and Toia leave us alone. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Your, ah… father-in-law managed to get me here.”

“Reginald?” I want to laugh, and I almost do. “Wow.”

For a long moment, we just stare at one another. I’m six years old again, just for a few heartbeats.

He looks me over, and his eyes settle on my belly. “So, it’s a girl?”

I had been waiting to tell him. Someone must have gotten to him first. Probably Chester. He can’t keep his mouth shut about anything. “It’s a girl.”