Monica held out her hand, and Georgia handed her a bag from a boutique we’d been in earlier.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I bought some make-up. You’re going to use it.” She winked at Georgia and started fussing with my face right there on the street.
“Guys,” I laughed, “it’s just my dad.”
They stilled for a moment. Everything stilled.
“We know,” Georgia said. “Just … we know.”
***
Twenty-five strange minutes later, Monica, Georgia, and I had finally returned to the campground. It was well past sunset, but the moon was bright enough to light our path back to the campsite.
“So, Mon, are you still going to stay for the Napa show?” I asked as we carefully navigated the root-covered ground.
“Yeah. Josh is coming out, too. He couldn’t get a full two weeks off, so he’ll join us … now?” Monica’s voice trailed off as Josh appeared in our path. “Josh?”
“Josh?” I echoed, my smile brightening.
Monica sped up and jumped when she reached him, and he squeezed her against his body. “You weren’t supposed to be here yet!”
I couldn’t hear him clearly through his whisper, but it sounded like he said, “Yes I was.”
He set Monica down and walked to me. “Finnegan’s misses you, Em.” His boyish smile filled the space between us.
“Aw, I miss you, too. Josh.” I gave him a tight hug, and turned to introduce him to Georgia.
“Josh, is it?” Georgia deadpanned as she stuck out her hand.
After all the reunions and introductions were out of the way, we finally made our way to the clearing of our campsite.
Where my dad was standing nervously, and alone, by a picnic table in the center of the site.
“Dad?” I looked behind me, only to find my friends silently retreating into the nearest RV.
Someone had taken electrical tape and spelled The Mediator on the side of the RV. I had no idea what that was about, but Monica and Regan seemed to be getting a laugh out of it.
Still confused, and feeling more nervous than I had in my whole life, I turned back to my dad, who was walking toward me, holding out his hand.
“Baby Blue,” he whispered as our hands touched. He wasn’t tentative in his embrace.
All anger and apprehension shot through the soles of my feet and spread across the earth around us as I cried heavy tears into his shoulder. Tears he, of course, returned onto mine.
It felt like every hug we’d ever shared, only this time there was something more.
“Dad,” I sniffed as I pulled away, wiping my nose and under my eyes, “I’m sorry for being such a bitch … I just …”
He put up his hand, ignoring the desperate need to wipe his saturated cheeks. “I know. I know. I expected you to be angry, angel, I did. I expected a fight. But, when you just, shut down, I … I thought I’d lost you.” He grabbed my hand again and led me to the picnic table, sitting next to me on the long, cool rectangular bench.
“Well,” I sighed, “as you know, it’s not like this came totally out of the … blue.” I rolled my eyes and grinned to let the irony of the statement pass. He laughed softly. “Willow’s been on my case about it for months.”
My dad squeezed my hand, his clover-colored eyes drowning in uncertainty. “Why didn’t you come to us right away?”
Why.
If there was ever any time to be honest, I’d learned over the last year, it was when you were surrounded with half-truths and lies. It was my chance to stand on my own two feet and own my feelings. Own my thoughts. Just. Own it.
“Because,” I sighed as I rested my head on his shoulder, “I knew it was true. The second she said it, it was like my ears were flooded with the sound of a million things clicking into place …” I trailed off as my tears dried.
My dad kissed the top of my head as he wrapped his arm around my back. “How’d you know?”
I shrugged. “I mean, the eyes, I guess, but that wasn’t as solid for me as the other things. I always felt this strong connection with Willow. I knew how lucky I was to grow up with my best friend, and I often referred to her as “like a sister”, but she always just felt like a sister. There was something … just … more there.”
“What are you feeling now?”
“Well … there were half a dozen times before we moved to Connecticut that Willow and I always said we wished we were real sisters so we could move together, and never have to live apart.”
My dad cleared his throat. “Do you regret making that wish?”
With a deep sigh, I gave another honest answer. “No. It was confusing as hell, and still is a little bit. My knee jerk reaction was to conveniently toss everything you ever taught me about love out the window.”