by Jenny Han
After we were done loading up the car, my dad took us to lunch at a steak restaurant. It wasn’t super fancy, but it was nice, a family place with leather booths and pickles at the table.
“Order whatever you like, guys,” my dad said, sliding into the booth.
Jeremiah and I sat across from him. I looked at the menu and picked the New York strip because it was cheapest. My dad wasn’t poor, but he definitely wasn’t rich, either.
When the waitress came over to take our orders, my dad ordered the salmon, I got the New York strip, and Jeremiah said, “I’ll have the dry-aged rib eye, medium rare.”
The rib eye was the most expensive thing on the menu. It cost thirty-eight dollars. I looked at him and thought, he probably didn’t even look at the price. He never had to, not when all his bills got sent to his dad. Things were gonna change when we were married, that was for sure. No more spending money on dumb stuff like vintage Air Jordans or steak.
“So, what do you have going on this summer, Jeremiah?” my dad asked.
Jeremiah looked at me and then back at my dad and then back at me. I shook my head just slightly. I had this vision of him asking my dad for his blessing, and it was all wrong. My dad couldn’t find out before my mother.
“I’m going to be interning at my dad’s company again,” Jeremiah said.
“Good for you,” my dad said. “That’ll keep you busy.”
“For sure.”
My dad looked at me. “What about you, Belly? Are you going to waitress again?”
I sucked soda from the bottom of my glass. “Yeah. I’m gonna go in and talk to my old manager next week. They always need help in the summer, so it should be all right.”
With the wedding just a couple of months away, I would just have to work doubly—triply—hard.
When the bill came, I saw my dad squint and take a closer look. I hoped Jeremiah didn’t notice, but when I realized he hadn’t, I kind of wished he had.
I always felt closest to my dad when I was sitting in the passenger seat of his minivan, studying his profile, the two us listening to his Bill Evans CD. Drives with my dad were our quiet times together, when we might talk about nothing and everything.
So far the drive had been a quiet one.
He was humming along with the music when I said, “Dad?”
“Hmm?”
I wanted to tell him so badly. I wanted to share it with him, to have it happen during this perfect moment when I was still his little girl in the passenger seat and he was still the one driving the car. It would be a moment just between us. I’d stopped calling him Daddy in middle school, but it was in my heart—Daddy, I’m getting married.
“Nothing,” I said at last.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him before I told my mother. It wouldn’t be right.
He went back to humming.
Just a little bit longer, Dad.
chapter eighteen
I’d thought it would take at least a little time to adjust to being at home again after being away at college, but I fell back into my old routine pretty much right away. Before the end of the first week, I was unpacked and having early-morning breakfasts with my mom and fighting with my brother Steven over the state of the bathroom we shared. I was messy, but Steven took it to a whole new level. I guessed it ran in our family. And I started working at Behrs again, taking as many shifts as they would let me, sometimes two a day.
The night before we all went to Cousins for the dedication of Susannah’s garden, Jere and I were talking on the phone. We were talking about wedding stuff, and I told him some of Taylor’s ideas. He loved them all but balked at the idea of a carrot cake.
“I want a chocolate cake,” he said. “With raspberry filling.”
“Maybe one layer can be carrot and one can be chocolate,” I suggested, cradling the phone to my shoulder. “I’ve heard they can do that.”
I was sitting on my bedroom floor, counting my tips for the night. I hadn’t even changed out of my work shirt yet, even though it had grease stains all down the front, but I was too beat to bother. I just loosened the necktie.
“A chocolate-raspberry-carrot cake?”
“With cream cheese frosting for my layer,” I reminded him.
“Sounds kinda complicated to me flavor profilewise, but fine. Let’s do it.”
I smiled to myself as I stacked my ones and fives and tens. Jeremiah was watching a lot of Food Network since he’d been home.
“Well, first we have to be able to pay for this alleged cake,” I said. “I’ve been taking all the shifts I can, and I’ve only got a hundred and twenty bucks saved so far. Taylor says wedding cakes are really expensive. Maybe I should ask her mom to bake the cake instead. Mrs. Jewel’s a really good baker. We probably couldn’t ask for anything too fancy, though.”
Jeremiah had been silent on the other line. Then he finally said, “I don’t know if you should keep working at Behrs.”
“What are you talking about? We need the money.”
“Yeah, but I have the money my mom left me. We can use that for the wedding. I don’t like you having to work so hard.”
“But you’re working too!”
“I’m an intern. It’s a bullshit job. I’m not working half as hard as you are for this wedding. I sit around an office, and you’re busting your ass working double shifts at Behrs. It doesn’t feel right.”
“If this is because I’m the girl and you’re the guy …,” I began.
“That’s not it, dude. I’m just saying, why should you have to work this hard when I have money in my savings account?”
“I thought we said we were going to do this on our own.”
“I’ve been doing some Internet research, and it looks like it’s going to be a lot more expensive than we thought. Even if we go really simple, we still have to pay for food and drinks and flowers. We’re only getting married once, Belly.”
“True.”
“My mom would want to contribute. Right?”
“I guess. …” Susannah would want to do more than contribute. She’d want to be there every step of the way—dress shopping, deciding on the flowers and food, all of it. She’d want to do it up. I always pictured her there on my wedding day, sitting next to my mom, wearing a fancy hat. It was a really nice picture.
“So let’s let her contribute. Besides, you’re gonna get really busy with wedding-planning stuff with Taylor. I’ll help as much as I can, but I still have to be at work from nine to five. When you call caterers and flower people or whatever, that’ll have to be during the day, and I won’t be able to be there.”
I was really impressed that he’d thought of all this. I liked this other side of him, thinking ahead, worrying about my health. I had just been complaining about calluses on my feet too.
“Let’s talk more about it after we tell our parents,” I told him.
“Are you still nervous?”
I’d been trying not to think about it too much. At Behrs, I focused all my energy on delivering bread baskets and refilling drinks and cutting slices of cheesecake. In a way, I was glad to be working double shifts, because it kept me out of the house and away from my mother’s watchful eye. I hadn’t worn my engagement ring since I’d been home. I only pulled it out at night, in my room.
I said, “I’m scared, but I’ll be relieved to finally have it out in the open. I hate keeping things from my mom.”
“I know,” he said.
I looked at the clock. It was twelve thirty. “We’re gonna leave early tomorrow morning, so I should probably go to sleep.” I hesitated before asking, “Are you driving up with just your dad? What’s the deal with Conrad?”
“I have no clue. I haven’t talked to him. I think he’s flying in tomorrow. We’ll see if he even shows.”
I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment I was feeling or relief. Probably both. “I doubt he’ll come,” I said.
“You never know with Con. He might come, he might not.” He added, “Don’t f
orget to bring your ring.”
“I won’t.”
Then we said good night, and it was a long time before I could fall asleep. I think I was afraid. Afraid that he was coming and afraid that he wasn’t.
chapter nineteen
I was up before the alarm; I was showered with my new dress on before Steven was even awake. I was the first one in the car.
My dress was lavender silk chiffon. It had a tight bodice and narrow straps and a floaty skirt, the kind you’d spin around in like a girl in a musical. Something Kim MacAfee might wear. I’d seen it in a store window in February, when it was still too cold to wear it without tights. Tights would ruin it. I’d used my father’s for-emergencies-only card, the one I’d never used before. The dress had stayed in my closet all this time, still covered in plastic.
When my mother saw me, she burst into a smile and said, “You look beautiful. Beck would love this dress.”
Steven said, “Not bad,” and I gave them both a little curtsy. It was just that kind of dress.
My mother drove, and I sat in front. Steven slept in the backseat, his mouth open. He was wearing a buttondown shirt and khaki pants. My mother looked nice too in her navy pantsuit and cream pumps.
“Conrad’s definitely coming today, right, bean?” my mother asked me.
“You’re the one who talks to him, not me,” I said. I put my bare feet on the dashboard. My high heels were in a heap on the floor of the car.
Checking her rearview mirror, my mother said, “I haven’t spoken to Conrad in a few weeks, but I’m sure he’ll be there. He wouldn’t miss something as important as this.”
When I didn’t say anything, she glanced at me and said, “Do you disagree?”
“Sorry, Mom, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” I didn’t know why I couldn’t just agree with her. I didn’t know what was holding me back.
Because I really did believe he was coming. If I didn’t, would I have taken extra care with my hair that morning? In the shower, would I have shaved my legs not once but twice, just to be safe? Would I have put on that new dress and worn those heels that made my feet hurt if I truly didn’t believe he was coming?
No. Deep down I more than believed it. I knew it.
“Have you heard anything from Conrad, Laurel?” Mr. Fisher asked my mother. We were standing in the parking lot of the women’s center—Mr. Fisher, Jere, Steven, my mother, and me. People were starting to file into the building. Mr. Fisher had already checked inside twice: Conrad wasn’t there.
My mother shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything new. When I spoke to him last month, he said he was coming.”
“If he’s late, we can just save him a seat,” I offered.
“I’d better get inside,” Jeremiah said. He was accepting the plaque commemorating the day on behalf of Susannah.
We watched him go because there was nothing else to do. Then Mr. Fisher said, “Maybe we should go in too,” and he looked defeated. I could see where he’d cut himself shaving. His chin looked raw.
“Let’s do that,” my mother said, straightening up.
“Belly, why don’t you wait here for another minute?”
“Sure,” I said. “You guys go ahead. I’ll wait.”
When the three of them were inside, I sat down on the curb. My feet were hurting already. I waited for another ten minutes, and when he still didn’t show, I got up. So he wasn’t coming after all.
chapter twenty
CONRAD
I saw her before she saw me. In the front row, I saw her sitting with my dad and Laurel and Steven. She had her hair pulled back, pinned up on the sides. I’d never seen her wear her hair like that before. She had on a light purple dress. She looked grown up. It occurred to me that she had grown up while I wasn’t looking, that there was every likelihood she had changed and I didn’t know her anymore. But when she stood up to clap, I saw the Band-Aid on her ankle and I recognized her again. She was Belly. She kept messing with the barrettes in her hair. One was coming loose.
My plane had been delayed, and even though I’d done eighty the whole way to Cousins, I was still late. Jeremiah was starting his speech just as I walked in. There was an empty seat up front next to my dad, but I just stood in the back. I saw Laurel shift in her seat, scanning the room before turning back around. She didn’t see me.
A woman from the shelter got up and thanked everyone for coming. She talked about how great my mom was, how dedicated she was to the shelter, how much money she raised for it, how much awareness in the community. She said my mom was a gift. It was funny, I’d known my mom was involved with the women’s shelter, but I didn’t know how much she gave of herself. I felt a jolt of shame as I remembered the time she’d asked me to go help her serve breakfast one Saturday morning. I’d blown her off, told her I had stuff I needed to do.
Then Jere got up and went to the podium. “Thanks, Mona,” he said. “Today means so much to my family, and I know it would have meant even more to my mom. The women’s shelter was really important to her. Even when we weren’t here in Cousins, she was still thinking about you guys. And she loved flowers. She used to say she needed them to breathe. She would be so honored by this garden.”
It was a good speech. Our mom would have been proud to see him up there. I should have been up there with him. She would have really liked that. She would have liked the roses, too.
I watched Jere sit down in the first row in the seat next to Belly. I watched him take her hand. The muscles in my stomach clenched, and I moved behind a woman in a wide-brimmed hat.
This was a mistake. Coming back here was a mistake.
chapter twenty-one
The speeches were over, and everyone had gone outside and started milling around the garden.
“What kind of flowers do you want for the wedding?” Jeremiah asked me in a low voice.
I smiled and shrugged. “Pretty ones?” What did I know about flowers? What did I know about weddings, for that matter? I hadn’t been to many, only my cousin Beth’s that time I was a flower girl and our neighbor’s. But I liked this game we were playing. It was like pretend, but real.
Then I saw him. Standing there in the back was Conrad, in a gray suit. I stared, and he lifted his hand in a wave. I lifted mine, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
Next to me, I heard Jeremiah clear his throat. I started. I’d forgotten he was standing next to me. For those couple of seconds, I forgot everything.
Then Mr. Fisher was pushing past us, striding over to him. They embraced. My mother swept Conrad into her arms, then my brother came up from behind and pounded him on the back. Jeremiah made his way over too.
I was last. I found myself walking over to them. “Hi,” I said. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I left them at my sides.
He said, “Hi.” Then he opened his arms up wide and gave me a look that was a lot like a dare. Hesitantly, I stepped into them. He crushed me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground a little. I squealed and held down my skirt. Everyone laughed. When Conrad set me back down, I moved closer to Jere. He wasn’t laughing.
“Conrad’s glad to have his little sister around again,” Mr. Fisher said in a jovial kind of way. I wondered if he even knew that Conrad and I had once dated. Probably not. It had only been six months. It was nothing compared to the time Jeremiah and I had spent together.
“How have you been, little sis?” Conrad asked. He had that look on his face. Part mocking, part mischievous. I knew that look; I’d seen it so many times.
“Great,” I said, looking at Jeremiah. “We’re really great.”
Jeremiah didn’t look back at me. Instead he pulled his phone out of his pocket and said, “I’m starving.” I could feel a little knot in my stomach. Was he mad at me?
“Let’s get some pictures by the garden before we go,” my mother said.
Mr. Fisher clapped his hands and rubbed them together. Putting his arms around Jeremiah and Conrad, he said, “I want a picture with the Fishermen!�
� which made us all laugh—this time Jeremiah, too. That was one of Mr. Fisher’s oldest and corniest jokes. Whenever he and the boys would come back from fishing trips, he would yell, “The Fishermen have returned!”
By Susannah’s rose garden, we took pictures of Jeremiah and Mr. Fisher and Conrad, then one with Steven, too, then one with me and my mother and Steven and Jeremiah—all sorts of combinations. Jere said, “I want one of just me and Belly,” and I was relieved. We stood in front of the roses, and right before my mother snapped the picture, Jeremiah kissed me on the cheek.
“That’s a nice one,” my mother said. Then she said, “Let’s have one of all the kids.”
We stood together—Jeremiah, Conrad, me, Steven. Conrad slung his arm around Jeremiah’s and my shoulders. It was all like no time had passed. The summer kids together again.
I rode with Jeremiah to the restaurant. My mother and Steven took one car, Mr. Fisher and Conrad both drove separately.
“Maybe we shouldn’t tell them today,” I said suddenly. “Maybe we should wait.”
Jeremiah turned down the music. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe today should just be about Susannah, and family. Maybe we should wait.”
“I don’t want to have to wait. You and me getting married is about family. It’s about our two families coming together. As one.” Grinning, he grabbed my hand and lifted it in the air. “I want you to be able to wear your ring, right now, loud and proud.”
“I am loud and proud,” I said.
“Then let’s just do it like we planned.”
“Okay.”
As we pulled into the restaurant parking lot, Jeremiah said to me, “Don’t have hurt feelings if—you know, if he says anything.”
I blinked. “Who?”
