Getting Ready

Around five o'clock, I loaded my dress, shoes, and makeup into the car and headed to my parents' house.

There was no way I was getting ready at the house I shared with Chris.

I wasn't trying to hide anything, but I also wasn't looking for questions, arguments, or awkward conversations.

I simply wanted one evening without stress.

One evening that belonged to me.

When I pulled into my parents' driveway, Mom was already standing at the front door waiting.

I laughed.

"Have you been watching for me?"

"No."

"Mom."

"Maybe."

I shook my head and carried everything inside.

The next two hours felt like preparing for prom.

Mom fussed over my hair.

Adjusted my jewelry.

Changed her mind about my lipstick twice.

And reminded me at least twenty times that my father was paying for every item I was wearing.

Around six-thirty, Dad came downstairs and stopped in the living room.

For a moment, he just stared.

I immediately groaned.

"What?"

Dad smiled.

"Wow."

"Dad."

"What?"

"You sound like Mom."

He shook his head.

"No, seriously."

I rolled my eyes.

"Stop."

"You look beautiful, sweetheart."

My heart melted.

No matter how old I got, hearing that from my father always meant something.

Mom smiled.

"See? I told you."

Dad looked at his watch.

"What time is he supposed to be here?"

"Seven."

Dad nodded.

"Good."

Then he sat down in his recliner.

The same recliner he had occupied for as long as I could remember.

Mom looked at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting."

"For what?"

"For Jack."

I burst out laughing.

"Oh no."

Dad smiled.

"Oh yes."

"You are not interrogating him."

"I'm not interrogating anybody."

Mom laughed.

"That's exactly what you're doing."

"I just want to meet him."

I pointed at him.

"Be nice."

"I am always nice."

Mom and I both laughed at the same time.

At exactly 6:58, headlights appeared in the driveway.

The room instantly became quiet.

Mom looked out the window.

"Oh."

Dad stood up.

I felt my stomach flip.

There he is.

For the first time all day, the reality of the evening hit me.

This was actually happening.

I walked toward the front window and glanced outside.

A black luxury sedan pulled neatly into the driveway.

The driver's door opened.

And out stepped Jack.

Even from the window, he looked confident.

Relaxed.

Comfortable.

As though he wasn't nervous at all.

I, on the other hand, felt like I might pass out.

Mom squeezed my hand.

"You okay?"

"No."

She laughed.

"That's normal."

The doorbell rang.

Dad immediately stood up.

"Oh no," I said.

"Oh yes," Dad replied.

Before I could stop him, he opened the front door.

Jack stood there holding a small bouquet of flowers.

Not for me.

For my mother.

Mom immediately looked impressed.

Dad noticed too.

Very smooth, Jack.

"Good evening, sir," Jack said as he extended his hand.

Dad shook it.

"Paul."

"Nice to meet you, Paul."

"Likewise."

Mom stepped forward.

The second she saw the flowers, she smiled.

"Oh my goodness."

Jack handed them to her.

"I couldn't show up empty-handed."

Mom was done for.

Completely.

I knew it immediately.

She was already a fan.

Dad looked over at me and quietly whispered,

"Smart man."

I couldn't help laughing.

Jack finally turned toward me.

For a brief moment, neither of us spoke.

His smile widened.

And then he said the words every woman secretly hopes to hear.

"You look absolutely beautiful."

I felt my cheeks turn red immediately.

Mom smiled.

Dad smiled.

Even Jack looked amused by my reaction.

"Thank you," I managed.

For the first time all evening, my nerves settled.

Just a little.

Because there was something genuine about him.

Something comfortable.

Something easy.

And as I grabbed my purse and prepared to leave, I had no idea that this dinner at Pier W would become one of the most important nights of my life.