“We’re in here,” I heard Dad call from the kitchen, where I found him and Brad playing a game of Uno.
“Room for one more?”
“Sure,” Brad said, drawing the word out into about four syllables—making me immediately suspicious. “Come deal yourself in, Elle.”
They waited patiently as I dropped my purse, joined them on the other side of the table, and picked up some cards from the pile in the center.
“It’s my turn,” Brad announced. “And then it’ll be your go.”
“Okay.”
He slammed down a card. “Pick up four! Change to…green!”
I groaned, dropping my cards facedown. “Oh, man, come on! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“Them’s the rules,” Dad said. “Sorry, bud.”
He didn’t sound in the least bit sorry that I’d swanned in at just the right moment to spare him from picking up four more cards when he was down to three.
He high-fived Brad under the table, the two of them snickering as I collected another four cards and searched for a green card. Which I absolutely did not have. I had to pick up three more from the pile before I got one I could play.
“Today is not my day,” I muttered, lamenting the sheer number of cards I now held.
“Something happen with the Flynns, kiddo?”
“Did you know they’re selling the beach house?”
“Wait, what?” Brad cried. “But…but they can’t! You promised I could come hang out there this summer!”
“Huh,” Dad said, setting down a green card of his own. “June mentioned they were redeveloping the whole area. I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. It makes sense, with all you kids at college.”
“Uh, excuse me?” Brad protested. “I’m not in college.”
“You’ll be packing up your stuff and moving into a dorm, too, before I can blink,” Dad said, though it sounded like he was speaking more to himself than to Brad.
“But Elle’s only going to be in Berkeley,” Brad pointed out. “And Lee. So that doesn’t count, right?”
I cringed.
“You still gotta make a call on that one, huh, bud?” Dad asked me quietly, rather than asking outright if I’d talked to Lee or Noah about it yet, while Brad was deciding his next move.
A literal call, I thought bitterly, remembering my conversation with Donna Washington.
It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If I had just stayed on the wait-list another day, I never would’ve put the decision off. Uptight Donna Washington would have called to ask about my decision, and I would have said yes, I accept, I’ll see you guys in the fall, and everything would’ve happened the way it was supposed to, if only that damn letter from Harvard hadn’t arrived this morning.
Maybe it was some kind of sign? That it had shown up when it did, just hours before Berkeley called, wanting to know if I was in or not? Maybe it was fate telling me where I should go….
Dad seemed to be expecting me to answer, but I didn’t want to dwell on college right now.
“We’re heading up to the beach house tomorrow to start clearing the place out,” I mumbled instead. Brad played yellow. Luckily, I had a bunch of those to pick from, including a +2 card, which I immediately inflicted on Dad before he got to call Uno. “But don’t worry, I’ll get back in time to babysit.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Brad announced in a lofty voice, sticking his chin in the air. “I’m eleven.”
I held up my hands, eyebrows shooting up. “My mistake.”
Dad caught my eye and tried not to laugh.
“So how come you’re out tomorrow night?” I asked him. I’d been forewarned this morning before the Harvard letter arrived that I was on babysitting duty tomorrow, but I never got the chance to ask why. Dad didn’t really go out on the weekend, so I asked, “Is it something for work?”
“Actually,” Dad said, almost mimicking Brad in the way he sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “No. I’ve…got a date.”
I stared at him for a minute—long enough that Brad kicked me under the table and said, “Elle! Come on, your turn!”
I played the first blue card I saw in my hand and stared at Dad again.
A date?
Since when did Dad go on dates?
Come on, Elle, don’t be weird about this. This was the first date Dad had been on in…ever. Since Mom. He was probably feeling weird enough about it without me adding to that.
So I said, “Okay, so…how do you know her? What’s her name? Tell us about her. Where are you taking her on this first date? Please tell me you’re not gonna do something dorky like bring her flowers. Actually, maybe you should—”
“Her name is Linda,” Dad said. “I met her through work. And if you must know, Elle, we’ve actually had a couple of dates already, and I did in fact get her flowers, and she thought it was very sweet.”
“Whoa, hold up,” I blurted. “This isn’t the first date? You’ve been out with her before and you didn’t tell us about it?”
Dad shrugged, but I could see he looked a little guilty. I didn’t want him to feel guilty. Or maybe I did. But I didn’t want him to feel bad about it. It was just…weird.
And then he said, eyes focused on his cards, “I don’t tell you guys about every date I go on, you know. But things have been going really well with Linda. I like her. And we’re just gonna see how it goes.”
Brad didn’t even seem fazed. Did he know? Did Dad tell him that he was going on dates but didn’t tell me? Did he not have anything to say about this?
“Do you not have anything to say about this?” I exclaimed, looking incredulously at Brad.
He glared back at me for a minute before sighing. “Is this the same Linda we met at that company picnic over spring break?”
“Yep, that’s her, bud.”
“Oh.” He shrugged, studying his two cards again. “She was nice. She made good potato salad.”
Dad played a card. Brad went next, yelling, “Uno!” and Dad made some joke at him about how he must’ve cheated. I watched the exchange, fumbling to play a card of my own before Brad kicked me under the table again.
Seriously?
This was not the first date he’s been on?