Jett
The laughter around the kitchen table is a good sign.
I brought steaks and we grilled out. While Felicity is far too young to man the grill, she hung with me out back while I cooked the steaks, and Jenna and Emory worked on putting together a salad and baked potatoes. She talked about the dance and how fun it was and told me about her sleepover last night at her friend’s and how they put the covers over their heads and told spooky stories and then got so scared they could hardly sleep all night.
Emory appears to have moved past some of her worries we discussed. She’s not distracted like she was on the phone last night and her smile is easy. The kiss she gave me when I walked in was meaningful, and the look in her eyes told me that all was well. Then she kissed me again and when she pulled away, the sparkling of her blue irises told me that she needed alone time with me soon, as much as I needed it with her. Our next planned overnight “date” is in two days for the team Christmas party that Dominik is throwing. It will be our first team appearance as a couple, and we know it will make a statement.
She plans on staying the night at my condo but, as per usual, it’s a school night so she’ll be out the door super early to make it home before Felicity wakes up.
“Okay, okay,” Jenna says with a superior smile. “I got one.”
“Go for it,” Emory says, looking across the table at her daughter and winking.
We all watch Jenna expectantly.
“What do you call a tree that grows in your hand?” she asks us, glancing around the table to see who will answer correctly.
I offer a ridiculous answer because I know the punchline of this joke. “An oak tree.”
Felicity groans and rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense. It’s a palm tree. Get it?”
I scratch my head and frown in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“Palm?” Felicity says, holding her hand out and pointing to that portion of her hand. “A palm tree.”
“Oooohhhh,” I drawl, changing my expression as if the light bulb had been turned on.
My eyes drift over to Emory, and the smile on her face as she watches our interaction is serene. I glance at Jenna, and her smile seems to be knowing.
As if she had expected us to be sitting at the table together—my girlfriend, her daughter, and her sister—having a family-style dinner and telling jokes.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And yeah… while it feels different because I have twenty-six years of being a certain way, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, I feel very comfortable in this new role.
I mean, just this side of two days ago, I was filling in at a daddy/daughter dance with Felicity. I can’t help but feel light inside when I think about it. When Emory texted me that Shane hadn’t shown up and she was going to take her to the dance, there was no doubt in my mind what I was going to do.
It never occurred to me that it was the wrong move or that it could be potentially awkward. Felicity’s face lit up when she saw me and the look on Emory’s face… well, oh man. If she looked at me like that every day for the rest of my life, I’d want for nothing.
We had a blast at that dance. There was a moment that could have been weird, but it was fine. One of Felicity’s friends asked me if I was her daddy, because she had been telling all her friends about him.
I merely said, “No, I’m a gallant knight riding in to take this fair lady to the ball.”
No fucking clue where that came from but Felicity and the little girl busted out in giggles. After that, everyone called me a knight and other little girls wanted to dance with me. Felicity let them each have one dance and I had to take about thirty-second turns to give everyone a chance. Mostly though, the girls danced with each other and once the other fathers realized who I was, we sat around talking hockey.
Emory just watched, tucked over in the corner talking to Felicity’s teacher. I wasn’t even tempted to ask her to dance with me because I was there for Felicity, and I think Emory appreciated that all the more.
At the end of the night, as we were parting to go our separate ways, Felicity gave me a big hug and thanked me for being her knight. The gratitude in her voice latched onto a piece of my heart and settled in right next to the spot that Emory held.
“Okay, I have one,” I announce, ready to tell my joke. The ones I’ve been telling are nonsensical, which makes them funny. Emory, Jenna, and Felicity all watch to see what I come up with. “Two tacos were walking in the park, and one taco fell down. What did he say to the other taco?”
Felicity, perplexed but still game, asks, “What?”
I change up my voice to sound cartoonish, “Hey… I lost all my lettuce.”
There’s dead silence as everyone soaks in the fact my joke makes no sense and the punchline is about as stupid as anything can be. We all look around at one another and bust out laughing in unison.
“Oh man,” Jenna says, shaking her head. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What?” I ask jokingly, holding my arms out to the side. “He lost his lettuce. That’s funny, right?”
“Tacos can’t walk,” Felicity points out with a smirk.
I mimic her tiny but cute condescending voice. “Well palm trees can’t grow on hands either.”
Felicity bursts into giggles but before any of us can join in the laughter, there’s a knock on the door.
As if a cold bucket of water had been dumped on our frivolity, everyone falls silent. The air goes tense.
There’s no good reason for anyone to be knocking on the door, and I can see by the look on both Emory and Jenna’s faces they have a good idea who it is.
Just as I do, because I think we’ve all been expecting this.
Emory stands from the table, taking the napkin from her lap and tossing it on her empty dinner plate. “I’ll get that.”
Felicity is the only one who doesn’t seem to sense the tension, but Jenna leaps into action as only a diligent aunt would do. She stands up from the table and says, “Time to get your bath, Felicity. Jett will handle cleaning the kitchen.”
“I’m on it,” I say, popping up from my chair and that seems to move Felicity into action as she mimics me.
Jenna takes her by the hand and says, “Come on, Pip. Do you want peach or strawberry scented bubble bath tonight?”
I don’t hear her answer because as I’m grabbing my plate, I glance to see Emory opening the door.
Sure as shit, Shane is standing there. I can’t tell much about his appearance by the porch light, but I am assuming he’s sober since Emory lets him in the door, but she blocks him from further entry into the living room.
His gaze moves past Emory to me and I stare right back at him, my dinner plate in hand.
When he looks back to Emory, I move to the sink and give them my back for some modicum of privacy.
I’m not sure Emory wants it though, as she doesn’t lower her voice at all. I can hear her clear as a bell when she says, “What are you doing here, Shane?”
“I came to apologize,” he says contritely. “And see Felicity. I want to explain—”
“Stop right there,” Emory hisses with such venom, a damn chill shoots up my spine. “There is no way in hell I’m letting you see Felicity. You abandoned her and I know damn well it’s because you were high and don’t you dare try to convince me otherwise.”