Paper Hearts

13

The sky was dark and clear, the stars appearing in its murky depths, merely pinpoints of light from where I stood on the porch, breathing in the weirdly sweet scent of honeysuckle and asphalt. Behind me, the lights were still on in the kitchen, and I heard Dad fumbling around with silverware, cursing under his breath when something hit the floor with a loud clang.

"Vicki!" he called, and I obliged, turning to enter the house once more.

But, before I knew it, he was already there, standing in the doorway, opening the door to let himself out.

"I have something to tell you." He said, somewhat breathlessly, and I arched a brow.

"Yeah?"

He shoved a slip of canvas paper into my hand, and I took it, somewhat suspicious. Lowering my gaze, I read,

YOU'RE INVITED!

Join us to celebrate the marriage of Laurie Hemmings and Daniel Matthews

October the Fourth, Two-Thousand and Sixteen

1315 Palmetto Drive

Anna Maria Island, Florida

RSVP at cherylcrowe@amiweddings.com

SAVE THE DATE!

I looked up, my chest constricting slightly as I watched Dad hold up his own wedding invitation, his eyes downcast.

"It's really happening," I said, pushing the words through a lighthearted laugh. "I—I can't believe it."

He nodded, and then went silent for a moment, inhaling a deep breath from his nose.

"Look...Vicki..."

He paused, his forehead creasing, as if whatever he had to say next was physically paining him. I just stood there, waiting, my hand clenched around my mother's fancy, gold-embroidered invitation.

"What is it?" I asked finally, and my voice came out sharper than intended, but I didn't care.

Finally, Dad looked up, blowing out a breath.

"I'm not going." He muttered, and it was as if someone had just drenched me in a bucket of ice water. My whole body stiffened; I wasn't sure if I'd heard him correctly.

"What?" I asked, even though the statement didn't exactly need clarification.

"You heard me."

"But—"

"I can't, Vicki." He said, shutting his eyes tightly. "I can't—I can't watch the woman I loved go and get married to the guy she left us for. It's unfair of you to think that I would be willing to do that."

"Unfair for you?" I demanded, my voice hysterical. "What about me, Dad? Do you think this is easy for me? I hardly even know her. And—and she just ran off!"

I paused, trying to recollect my emotions, unable to reign in the anger and sadness and pain that coursed through me, through every cell in my body.

"I grew up without a mom," I said, tears beginning to prick at the corners of my eyes. "But—despite all of that—I'm going to her wedding. Because I want her to know that I love her, no matter what, even if she doesn't love me."