Woke Up Like This(76)

I expected to arrive first. Dad is perpetually late. But when I walk in, taking in the scent of deep-fried goodness, I see him hunched over at the window table, perusing the menu. Our table. He always requested it because he knew I liked to look out the window and play the car game. The one where we’d lay claim to alternating cars that went by. He’d always let me cheat and claim the pretty cars.

From the entryway, he looks thinner. His thick black hair is now a little sparse around the crown of his head. It reminds me that almost a year has passed since we’ve been face-to-face. He doesn’t really know me, and maybe I don’t really know him. I think about Renner’s offer to come with me. I really could use one of his pep talks right now, even if he is a nitwit.

But Renner’s not here, so I take a step forward, and then another, until I reach the booth.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, tepidly sliding into the booth across from him.

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth, like my appearance is some sort of shock. “You made it,” he says, in the awkward way an old dude would greet his business associate. “Hope you don’t mind. I ordered the grilled cheese for you. I know you used to love them.”

He’s not wrong. I do love the diner’s double-decker grilled cheeses.

“Oh, uh, thank you. How was your drive from the city?” I ask, studying his face. Mom always said I get my looks from Dad. We share numerous features, dark eyes, thick brows, heart-shaped lips, and the same crooked smile.

“Long,” he says with a chuckle. “Summer traffic is picking up.”

“Ah. Any vacations planned?”

“I mentioned that we are moving into Alexandra’s parents’ lake house. So we’ll probably just take things easy—” He pauses, because he knows what I’m thinking. My heart twinges, hurt for younger me who would have given anything to have a summer vacation with Dad. I try to push that thought away, reminding myself that I have a busy summer ahead before college.

“Sounds fun,” I say, distracted by the waitress dropping off our orders. His order is the same too, a club sandwich held together by a toothpick with colored foil. He used to let me have them.

“Enough about me. I hear you’ve been busy. How were your exams?” he asks, removing the toothpick. His jaw cracks a little when he takes a bite, as it always does.

I shrug, still not feeling up to eating, even though I’m hungry. “Good. Really good, actually. I aced them all, I think.”

He smiles proudly. “Of course you did. Oh, your mom sent along an invite to your graduation ceremony. Alexandra would like to come with me if you can spare an extra invite.” He catches my reaction and hesitates. “If that’s okay with you, that is.”

I remember how it felt to cross the stage at my middle school graduation, searching every darkened row for his face in the audience. And how crushing it was to shake the principal’s hand and pose for a photo with Mom as my sole guest.

I clear my throat. “If you can make it, sure. If you can’t, that’s fine too. I’d rather you not cancel last minute.”

“No, we’ll be there,” he promises. “Alexandra really wants to meet you.”

My lips twitch. “That’s why you’re coming to my grad? So Alexandra can meet me?”

“No. I wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world. It’s a huge deal. But,” he adds, “of course I want you to get to know Alexandra, especially with the baby coming. That’s why I want you to spend some time with us this summer.” He lights up when he talks about Alexandra and the baby. It actually makes me kind of happy. Happy for my future sibling. The sparkle in his eyes seems so genuine, and everything in my heart wants to believe him.



“I’m sorry for how I reacted on the phone,” I say, lowering my head. “It took me by surprise. It’s not like we’ve been in regular contact.”

He lowers his chin. “I know. And that’s on me. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as I should have.”

“What made you come to this conclusion?” I ask.

“The baby,” he says without a beat. “Going through it with Alexandra made me realize how much time I’ve lost with you. I know you’ll probably never forgive me and I don’t blame you—”

“It’s okay,” I cut in when his eyes well with tears. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad cry in my life.

“No. I let my work take over my life. I let my relationship with your mom sour ours. And by the time I realized it, I thought it was too late. That you already didn’t want me in your life.”

The words pierce my heart, especially since I felt the complete opposite. “I did. More than anything. I’ve wanted your approval my entire life, and I never felt like I had it.”

“You’ve always had my approval. I’ve always been immensely proud of everything you do.”

“Really?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper. I think about the box that Alexandra gave me at the lake house. She’d said the same thing. Real or not, I was starting to think Dad actually did care about me.

“I just assumed you knew that,” he says. For some reason, I always thought adults made decisions with purpose. That they knew what they were doing all the time. But maybe adults are just like teens, bumbling around aimlessly, unsure if they’ve gotten it right.