Descending from the plane, I see my dad’s Toyota Corolla waiting for me. My dad is standing at the foot of the car watching a man put my suitcase in the trunk of the car.
I walk over to my dad and put my arms around him, embracing him for the first time in months. When I pull back I see he’s staring at the plane.
“Fancy boyfriend?”
I look back at the plane and then meet my dad’s questioning look and shrug.
“He’s a little bit fancy.”
“Serious?”
“It’s a little bit serious.”
“Serious enough to let you take his private plane but not serious enough to bring to your sister’s wedding?” he asks in that way that dads ask questions about boys and their intentions for their daughters.
“Serious enough to leave him home and not have you give him the third degree.” I pull his arms and swing him around toward the car. “Come on, I want to go home and make taffy.”
Dad stops in his tracks and I halt, too, my arm still clinging to his. I turn around and see his mouth is open in surprise but the heavy lids of his eyes are sloped in. “You want to make taffy? You haven’t wanted to make it since—” He stops for a second and I’m staring at him with my brows piled high, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Never mind. Lets go home and make taffy.”
“Is that my baby girl?” Mom comes barreling out the house before I even have a chance to get out of the car. I close the door just in time to get the full body Pamela Paige embrace. She smells like baked ham and cookie dough. Just like my mom should.
I sink into her hug and return it. She pushes me back and holds me at arm’s length to properly evaluate me. Her eyes look for the three things they always do: my weight to make sure I’m eating, my hair to ensure I’m eating right, and my eyes to make sure enough of those foods are vegetables.
My stomach forms knots just waiting for the worrying to start.
“You look good,” she says and I can feel my eyes widen in surprise. She takes a strand of my hair and holds it in her hands. “You got your hair done. I like it.” Her smile is as wide as my eyes.
I stare at her for a second and wait for the “but” to come but there is none. She has nothing to add. No concerns, no worries.
“I’m making the trays for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you put your bags up in your room and rest for a bit. You can come down when you’re ready,” she says but dad steps in.
“Emma and I are gonna make taffy.” His voice comes up at the end as if he is ending the statement in a question.
I turn toward him and then back to my mom, who is looking at him in surprise. “Is that right? Well, there is plenty of room in the kitchen for everyone. Let’s get inside.”
Mom puts her arm around me and I walk with her into the house, dad carrying my bag behind us.
Mom, Dad and I stayed up until one in the morning making dinner and taffy for the rehearsal dinner tonight. I told them stories about the Juliette Academy and my life in New York. Dad shared some of his new lectures with me and mom introduced her newest kitten, Camilla, named for Matthew McConaughey’s wife. I was quite surprised Leah would name a cat after the devil woman who stole her man but I suppose since she is getting married, it’s only right to let go of her hold on the great McConaughey . . . at least where his marital status is concerned.
It was close to midnight when mom finally worked up the courage to ask me about my own love life. I could tell a few times she was dancing around the topic. I know Leah told them I was dating someone and dad saw the plane. How much information they actually know about the guy I’m dating, I have no idea.
If I wasn’t so unsure about where Alexander and I stood I would have offered up the information myself. The problem is, he still hadn’t called. I kept my phone on ring but left it in my bag. I wasn’t going to stare at it all night.