I fully expected him to take this stance, and to pull the you’re-not-ready card again. “I appreciate your concerns, Dad, but I feel like I am ready. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I may not have another chance to do it. As far as moving in together goes, Kodiak and I have pretty much been living together this entire semester. And if you remember, you all agreed that he could move in here with me and Maverick and River after the fire.” I arch a brow.
“Well, that was before the two of you were involved,” Dad argues.
Kodiak squeezes my hand, so I glance at him, thinking he’s giving me some silent moral support, but he mostly looks like he’s going to crap his pants.
I give him a look before I turn back to my dad. “I mean, come on, Dad. He lives down the street. We’re adults, and we’re being responsible. And let’s be real, I stayed home last year because you and Mom wanted me to, not because I didn’t feel ready to do this.” I motion to our surroundings. “And I would have gladly moved into the dorms if I hadn’t thought you and River would have had a coronary over it.”
My dad crosses his arms over his chest. “You tried the dorms, and it only lasted two days.”
Mom didn’t say anything to him about my brief attempt at living in the dorms, until Dad noticed the bank transactions, the withdrawal and the refund. By that time I was back in the house and things with me and Kodiak had changed completely, but he still likes to try to use it as leverage of some kind.
“My roommate was a whack job. If I’d applied for the dorms right from the beginning, I could’ve gotten a single, and it wouldn’t have been an issue. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I’ve been successful at college. I’m dealing fine, and I still have monthly sessions with Queenie. I get that maybe you didn’t expect this, but I think your hesitation is a lot less about me not being ready and more about you not being ready to let me go. I realize I’m always going to be your little girl, but that doesn’t mean I’m still a little girl. You need to let me grow up and make my own decisions.”
“She has a point, Alex,” my mom says.
He glances at her, his brow pulling down in a furrow that makes him look so much like River. “I know you’re not a little girl anymore.”
“Then give me some freedom to be an adult.”
Dad runs his hand through his hair. “I thought we were already doing the freedom thing. What happened to baby steps?”
“This was the baby step.”
“Well, moving to New York with your boyfriend seems like a whole bunch of leaps all at once.”
“I’m sure for you it is, but it’s not like you don’t know Kodiak. We grew up together. He’s Maverick’s best friend.” I take a deep breath and blow it out, feeling my frustration grow. “I’m only having this discussion because I’d love to have your support. I’m not asking for permission, though. Neither of us is.” I motion between Kodiak and me.
“We’re not?” His eyes are wide.
I roll mine. “No. We aren’t.” I huff out a sigh. “Look, I get it. My childhood was traumatic for all of us, and I recognize you all did your best to manage things, but don’t you think it’s time to let us figure things out on our own?” I make eye contact with every adult at the table.
Rook and my dad slowly sink back in their chairs, and Lainey and my mom give me sad, but proud smiles.
“You know she’s right, Alex. I think we’ve probably done enough interfering when it comes to these two. Maybe it would be a good idea to trust them and their ability to cope instead of finding reasons not to,” Mom says.
My dad rubs his chin and mutters, “Ah hell.” He nods slowly. “Does it have to be New York?”
“That’s where the internship is, so yeah, Dad, it has to be New York. Why don’t you look at it this way: You’ve done your job. You’ve helped raise a competent, confident young woman, and I want to take this amazing shot to pursue my dream. And I’m smart enough to bring along someone who is 100 percent behind me on this and will most definitely make sure I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry we’ve made it so hard for you,” Lainey says softly.
“You were doing what you thought was right,” Kodiak replies, his tone equally gentle.
“Rook and I have connections in New York. We’ll see about getting you into a training camp out there for the summer,” my dad says. “But only if you want us to make calls.”
I look to Kodiak.
“Uh, yeah, that’d be great, Alex. I mean sir.”
“I’ve changed your diapers, Kody. You don’t have to start calling me sir.” My dad gives me an apologetic smile. “I only ever want what’s best for you.”
“I know. You wouldn’t have put all that money into therapy and sewing machines and an art room if you didn’t.”
That gets a chuckle out of everyone.
The house alarm beeps, a signal that either Maverick or River is home.
Everyone turns when River shouts, “Whose bomb-ass truck is in the drive—” He comes to a very abrupt halt the moment he enters the dining room with Josiah at his side. “What the hell is going on?”
River’s eyes lock with mine, and I give him an apologetic shrug. “I texted you.”
“Right. Okay. I didn’t check my messages.”
Mom stands and pulls him into a hug, then gives him a questioning smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”
“Huh?” He glances at Josiah, and I can see the moment he decides not to disappoint him.
Kodiak squeezes my hand.
River clears his throat, gaze darting from me, to Dad, and then to Mom. “This is Josiah. And uh . . .” He looks at Josiah. “He’s my boyfriend.”
And just like that, me and Kodiak moving to New York together isn’t the biggest news anymore.
Mom nods knowingly. “I figured. Well, let’s get you two boys a chair so we can get to know Josiah better.”
Three hours and a whole lot of yummy food and surprisingly easy conversation later, our parents gather their things and get ready to head home.
Dad pulls me into a hug. “You’ve grown into quite an incredible person, Lavender. It’s hard to let you go.”
“I know, and I love you for it, but I promise I can hold my own these days.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I know you can, and I know Kody will be a good partner for you. Otherwise he’ll have me to answer to.”
I laugh, because what can I really say to that. He’s my dad, and I’m always going to be his little girl.
Mom slips her arm around my waist. We’re close to the same height. We watch as Dad and River have a whispered conversation.
“You knew River was gay?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder in a slight shrug. “I suspected. I mean, whenever we went to the beach, it was never the girls he was staring at.”
She has a point.
Dad puts a hand on River’s shoulder, and his expression shifts to one I’m familiar with. It’s the one I called his marshmallow face when I was little, when he would go all soft and warm and compassionate. Whatever he says to River makes him duck his head. Dad pulls him in for a hug—and not one of those manly, back-pat jobs, but a real hug. I can practically feel the emotion in it.