Paper Hearts

17

"So what's been going on with you lately?"

I hardly heard the question Dad asked at the dinner table last night; I gave a start when I realized it was directed at me. Our dinners had dissolved to occasional sharing of pleasantries and then getting on with our lives, all the while dancing around the still-touchy subject of Mom and the wedding. So the sudden interest in my life was jarring, but I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip.

"Nothing much," I replied instantly, with a smile. "You?"

"Work's good. Food's good. I'm good." he said, with just a hint of his old chuckle rumbling in his chest. I hadn't heard him laugh in a long time; it gave me the slightest flicker of hope that we could get over the rockiness between us.

"Good to hear."

"Yep."

A pregnant pause. He turned back to his meal. I was losing him.

"So," I said then, loudly. "Any gossip at the office?"

He laughed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You and I haven't gossiped since..."

"I know," I cut in, laughing, "I just want to know."

"Well," he murmured, leaning in over the table. "Janice and Paris are in another one of their feuds."

"No," I whispered, aghast. "What happened this time?"

"Apparently Janice insulted Paris' mother-in-law. They won't even look at each other."

"Wow," I said, smirking as I leaned back. "Who would have thought."

He smiled, genuinely for once, and returned to his food. I felt a grin kick up the corners of my mouth; we were beginning to fall into our old ways, the habitual story-swapping, the small talk and recaps of each other's days. Maybe this wedding hadn't ruined everything, after all.

"So how's Rachael been?" he asked then, and as much as I loved talking to him, that was the last thing I wanted him to ask. But I cleared my throat and faked a smile nonetheless.

"Fine."

"And how about that other kid?" Dad questioned. "Luke, was it? Took you to a banquet a while ago?"

"Oh," I said, attempting to mask my surprise. I didn't think he would remember. "He's good, I guess. We're going to the wedding together—Mom wanted me to have a date."

"Really." he said, and it came out as a statement, flat, echoing through the space between us. I gulped.

"Is that okay?" I asked quietly, and he snapped back to attention, nodding.

"If it's what your mother wants, then it's fine."

I blew out a breath of relief, just for a second, until I realized that he had mentioned Mom. I tried to steer him away from her again, coming up with something to say, but he beat me to it.

"So do you know him well? Luke?"

"What?" I asked, and then after a pause, "Oh. Um, yeah. I do."

"You trust him?"

I arched a brow. "Yes."

"Any piercings? Tattoos?"

I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether Luke's temporary tattoo fetish was really worth mentioning.

"No," I said finally, and it wasn't technically a lie.

"Good." Dad said gruffly, "Then I don't have a problem with him."