Page 42 of Destiny

“But we’re going to have to get more comfortable with comments and questions like that. People are going to be curious, and we have to be open to that.”

“Very true.”

“I mean, who knows what my parents are going to have to say.”

“What? You haven’t told them?”

“No.”

“Oh . . .” Here, I thought that she was letting me into the deepest parts of her life with Micky and everything. I never thought to question about her folks.

She sits fully up and buries her face in her hands. “And I truly don’t know why. It’s not like I necessarily care what their opinions are going to be—”

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, fine. I do.”

The moonlight is reflecting so perfectly off of her skin, and I graze my hand against her jawline. “Have they met any of your previous boyfriends?”

“Yes. But they worry. It's not just about me with a significant other. Just in life because of this thing.” She gestures down to her pump.

“Well, coming from a father—I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a sick child. If I had to deal with something as serious as diabetes with one or both of them, I’m sure I’d never stop being concerned.”

“I get that part. I do. But I’m an adult, and I’ve proven time and time again that I know how to take care of myself.”

“And I have to imagine it’s much easier with that device than constant shots or whatever.”

“It is. I mean, I still have to watch my sugar levels closely. But it’s easier to regulate with this. Especially after a large meal like we had tonight.”

I get up a little. “Are you—are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She places her hand near my collarbone and pushes me back down.

“Okay, good.”

“I told you. I know how to manage my symptoms and everything else that comes along with this terminal disease. My parents just don’t seem to trust me for some reason.”

“What if we told them together? Your parents, I mean. About us.”

Her eyes widen. “That might be good.”

“Okay. Let’s do it, then. My mother is going to be around a day or two more. I can have her watch the girls, and we can have dinner with them. Just make sure your dad keeps his shotgun at home,” I add, remembering the warning I’d received about him and his level of protectiveness.

I can see the limited light bounce of her perfect smile. “You got it.”

Chapter 5 – Bea

When I get into my car the next morning, I call my parents’ house phone.

“Hello?” It’s my father who answers.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“What’s up?”

“Are you and mom free for dinner tonight?”

“Hey, babe! Do we have plans tonight?” he yells after her. “She says no.”

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