Page 95 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

“Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical,” Dad said.

“It’s not a big deal,” Mom demurred.

“Not a big deal?” Dad scoffed. “Now to that, I call bullshit. Truly and I couldn’t be prouder, could we, honey?”

Mom rested her chin on her hands. “Remember when you installed a spotlight over the mantel just for the award?”

“Well, it deserved to be admired. It’s only a shame I nearly burned down the house.” He cringed at Colin. “An electrician, I am not.”

“It was only a small fire.” Mom giggled into her glass. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Maybe I should start house fires more often.”

Truly held her breath as Mom’s gaze locked with Dad’s and maybe she was wrong, maybe she was only seeing what she wanted, but this didn’t seem like regular looking; from the outside looking in, it seemed as if they were actually seeing each other, the two of them lost in their own world in a way she hadn’t witnessed in—too long.

Beneath the table, Colin squeezed her knee as if asking, are you seeing this?

She rested a trembling hand atop his and squeezed back.

Mom cleared her throat and dropped her eyes, the moment over, but not forgotten. Dad’s face had gone pink and Mom reached for her wine, draining half the glass with one deep swallow.

Truly hid her grin behind her cards. “My turn?”

Three rounds later and Colin’s hand continued to grow.

Truly wasn’t faring much better.

“Shame!” Dad tutted. “Diane, our daughter has no poker face.”

“Oh, that’s just what she wants you to think.” Mom’s tongue pressed against the side of her cheek. “Truly’s quite the little liar.”

The scoff escaped before she could swallow it. “Gee, Mom, tell me how you really feel.”

Mom scowled down into her glass, swirling the wine with a little more gusto than strictly necessary, considering she was knocking it back far quicker than she could let it breathe. “Now’s not the time, Truly.”

Truly gritted her teeth, just barely soothed by the circle Colin’s thumb was making against her knee.

“Not so fast,” Dad said, either oblivious to the tension or uncaring. Either way, Truly braced herself. “Colin, sate my curiosity, would you? Were you aware of your girlfriend’s—Truly is your girlfriend, no?”

Truly groaned. “Dad, I love you, but really?”

“Hey, I’m on TikTok. I’m hip with the lingo. Simping and smashing, sneaky links and situationships. Are you two still in the talking phase or have you DT’d the R?”

“DT’d the—” Christ on a cracker. Truly groaned. “Jesus, Dad, please do me a favor and never, ever say that again.”

“Come on, I’m cool! I’m hip!”

“More like you ought to be careful you don’t break a hip,” Mom teased. “Don’t act like I didn’t catch you doing one of those TikTok dances.”

Truly clapped a hand over her mouth. “No. When was this?”

Mom waved her hand. “It was...” She looked at Dad and frowned. “Weeks ago, I guess.”

Right. Because Dad had moved out.

“All I’m saying,” Dad continued, “is that I was a child of the sixties. I’m all about the free love and rock ’n’ roll if that’s what this is. Can’t a father be curious about whether it’s serious between his daughter and the”—Dad gestured at Colin—“zaddy defiling her?”

Colin choked on his wine and Truly set her own glass aside so she could pat him on the back.

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