Obsessed

A loud knock on the front door filters into the room then, and I turn to Emily. Her nervous expression is a clear mirror of mine.

“Game on,” I say with a shrug, and go to answer it.

After the awkward greetings and tour of my new apartment—our apartment—we move to the living room for coffee. Emily’s even set a fancy serving tray out and everything. It’s adorable how hard she’s trying to make a good impression, and I feel bad that I didn’t have that chance with her mother.

My father is seated in the armchair, and after setting down the coffee and handing him his cup, Emily comes to sit next to me on the two-seater couch.

“So, this is what’s happening,” my dad says in an agitated tone.

Emily and I share a look, and then look to him and nod.

He shakes his head, and with a sardonic laugh, says, “Talk about dejá vu.”

I reach out for Emily’s hand and hold it tightly in mine. She returns the gesture with a squeeze of her own. “We’re not you and Trish, Dad.”

He gives me a mocking salute with his coffee mug. “Sure, sure. You guys are idiots. At least me and Trish knew what we were getting into. We knew the odds were stacked. But you two actually think this is a good idea. Well, it’s not, I can tell you that.”

“We want our family to get past whatever happened before,” Emily says, choosing not to engage with his scornful judgement of our relationship. “It’s important to us that our baby not only knows its grandparents, but gets to grow up with them in a loving environment.”

“Loving environment?” my dad scoffs.

“I remember a time when we had that,” I say. “Before things went south with you and Trish. And I’m willing, for Emily’s sake and the sake of our baby—” I feel her give my hand another squeeze. She knows what this is taking, for me to approach my father at all, to make peace. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and try to have a better go of it with you.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, eyeing me with interest. I know he’s trying to decide whether to take me seriously or not.

“And what does your mother have to say about all this?” he asks, waving his hand in the general direction of the two of us.

Emily sits up straight, apparently shocked at being addressed so suddenly.

“She’s warming up to it,” I say, and watch her let out a relieved breath that I stepped in.

“Look, we know it’s a lot to process,” she says. “But Peter and I really love each other.”

“A lot.”

“And with the baby on the way, we feel it’s long overdue that we let this water pass under the bridge.”

My dad puts down his coffee and stands up. Emily and I watch him rise over us like a giant. I suddenly feel like a little boy again.

“This is insane,” he says, “and you two are insane for thinking it’ll work out.”

And that’s that. He starts to leave.

I’m not at all surprised by his reaction, so it’s nothing to me that he’s on his way out.

But Emily jumps up and follows him.

“This is happening,” she calls out, and he stops to turn and look at her. “We’re happy and in love, and can’t wait to start our lives together. And whatever you might think or feel about it doesn’t matter.”

“It shouldn’t,” my dad says simply, with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s your life, and you should do what makes you happy.”

I come up behind her just as my dad says that, and both of us are standing there in mild shock. Was that something nice he just said?

He chuckles softly to himself as he continues to the front door, and right before he leaves, he calls over his shoulder to Emily and I, who are rooted to the spot, “Be sure and send me a pic of the sonogram when you go.”

And then he leaves.

“Did that just happen?” Emily looks at me with wide eyes.