I moved back to the hostess stand, feeling a lot less confident than I had when I first got here. “Hi, sorry about that. Looks like she forgot to call ahead, but is there any way I could get a table for five?”
She consulted something on her iPad before looking back at me with aggravation clear in her expression. You and me both, sister, I thought to myself.
“We have a table, but we can’t seat you until your whole party arrives.”
Shit. “They’ll be here any minute. I swear.”
“I’m sorry. That’s the policy. You can have a seat while you wait,” she offered, dismissing me and waving the next diners over before I’d even had a chance to step aside.
I managed to squeeze myself into the only empty spot on the crowded bench that ran along the wall and waited for the rest of my family to get here so the night could hopefully be salvaged.
Five minutes turned into ten. Ten turned into fifteen, and I was just about to call Crissy when she came scurrying through the door in a seriously disheveled state.
I shot up and waved her over, scanning the entrance behind her for my niece, nephew and brother-in-law. “Hey, where’s everybody else? They won’t seat us until the whole party’s here.”
She stopped in front of me and blew her bangs out of her face. “I’m so sorry.”
Oh God. Not again.
“Aiden got a stomach bug from some kid at school, and it’s making its way through the whole house right now.”
“Oh no. Crissy, I’m sorry. So it’s just the two of us then?” Man, that hostess was going to hate me.
“I can’t stay,” my sister said, checking the time on her watch. “I wanted to run by to give you your birthday present, but I have to get back. Phil was hugging the toilet as I was heading out the door, so I need to get home to the kids.”
As far as excuses went, it was definitely better than forgetting altogether.
“Cris, you didn’t need to do that. You should have just called. I would’ve understood.”
“Are you kidding? My baby sister’s turning thirty. That’s a big deal. I wanted to make sure you had your present before your birthday was over.” She looked around the entryway. “Where’s Elaina?”
“Oh, um . . .” That burn in my sinuses came back. “She forgot.”
Crissy’s face pinched up like she’d just sucked on a lemon. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I shrugged, my heart clenching in my chest. “Wish I was.”
“All right. Then I’ll stay. I’m sure Phil and the kids will be fine for a couple hours.”
“No, you don’t have to do that,” I insisted. “Really, it’s fine. They need you, so you should go.”
“But—”
I reached out and squeezed her arm, giving her a smile that felt stiff and brittle. “Seriously, go home and take care of the kids. It’s all good.”
She looked like she wanted to continue arguing, but eventually gave in. “I’m so sorry, babe. I’ll make this up to you.” She shot forward and pulled me into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”
“Thanks,” I said past the lump that had formed in my throat as we pulled apart.
She handed over a festive gift bag that had tissue paper sticking out of the top. “I swear, Willow. I’ll make this up to you.”
My smile was a little more genuine this time around. “Not necessary. Now go home. And give your family my love once they’re all less pukey.”
“I will,” she said with a giggle, taking a single step back. “And Willow?”
“Yeah?”
“You look really pretty tonight. The new clothes suit you.”
She left after that, and I headed back to the hostess stand. Having witnessed the scene between my sister and me, the agitation on the woman’s face had morphed into pity, which was even worse.
“I appreciate you holding the table, but it looks like I’m not going to need it after all.”
“You could have a seat at the bar,” she offered. “We still serve our full menu there. And first drink is on the house.”
I appreciated the offer, but at the moment, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than eating my birthday dinner alone at a five-star restaurant.
“Thanks, but I’m just going to head out. Have a good night.”
“You too,” she called after me. “And happy birthday.”
Chapter Fourteen
Willow
The downstairs lights of my dad’s house were still on when I pulled up in his driveway, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he might still be awake. After the epic failure that was supposed to be my birthday dinner, I needed my dad something fierce. He had a gift for making me feel better, no matter how down I was.
“Dad?” I called as I stepped inside the house and closed the door behind me. I could hear the television playing in the living room, but that was it. When I turned the corner and peeked in, I found him asleep in his old, worn recliner.
He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. For him, sleep was a relief. It was the only time he didn’t have to battle his own mind. It was the only time he found peace. Not wanting to wake him, I slinked across the carpet to shut off the TV, but when I got closer, I saw a familiar brown leather album resting face down on his stomach.
With gentle hands, I grabbed the remote and turned off the television before reaching for the album.
It was open to a page with a glossy 8x10 photo of my mom and dad on their wedding day. I stood there for a solid minute, looking down at it as my heart clenched and throbbed, clenched and throbbed.
They looked so damn happy. The love shining in their eyes as they stared at each other never failed to steal my breath every time I saw this photo. It was just one of many photos of the two of them with that very same look in their eyes.
Their marriage wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t sure such a thing even existed. But they loved each other with their whole hearts.
Their love was so big and so strong that six years after her death, my father still pulled out their wedding album from time to time when he was missing her fiercely.
Moving backward toward the couch, I sat across from my sleeping father and started flipping through the pages, looking at picture after picture of my parents in love.
God, I wanted that. I wanted a man to look at me the way Dad had looked at Mom. I wanted to love someone with all my heart and have them love me back just as much. My dad used to tell us that Mom was his everything, and that was what I wanted. I wanted to be someone’s everything.
I sniffled back the tears I’d battled all evening as I flipped through the album, carefully studying every picture as I told myself that what they had was exactly what I wanted.
“You look just like her. You know that?”
My head shot up at the sound of my dad’s voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t, pumpkin.” He straightened out of the recliner and came over to the couch to sit beside me. “Out of all three of our girls, you’re the one who looked the most like your mother from day one.”
I gave him a look. “I don’t know about that. Mom was a knockout.”