Page 73 of The Relationship Clause

Unfortunately, blowing my dad off would only lead to more pain down the road, so to dinner with him we shall go.

We head back to our suite to shower and get ready. Being a typical, low-maintenance type of guy, I’m dressed in my suit and ready almost an hour before we need to leave. While I wait for her, I flip through channels on the TV. It gets old quickly though, and I turn it off after a while.

“So,” Junie calls from her bedroom, “is there anything I should know before dinner tonight? I’m a little nervous about having a fancy dinner with your dad and his girlfriend, or whatever she is to him.”

“Well, my dad will most likely end the night drunk—”

“I’m sensing a theme with Fred.”

“Yeah, definitely, but other than that, there’s not much to be nervous about. It won’t be just the four of us.”

“But I thought this was supposed to be a family thing.”

“It hasn’t been exclusively family for a few years now. We’re lucky we haven’t run into any of my dad’s other friends while we’ve been here.” Not that that happened completely by accident. I may or may not have purposely avoided a couple encounters. “My mom stopped coming right about the time she started having her affair, and my dad started inviting work friends ever since. It’s his way of trying to fill the void.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. That must be hard for both of you.”

“It’s alright. There are a lot of complicated emotions associated with this yearly trip, but I’ve worked through a lot of them with my therapist, so it’s not so bad anymore. Plus, having you here helps.”

There’s a long pause on the other side of the door. “You see a therapist?”

I chuckle, pretending I don’t feel as nervous about the revelation as I do. “You know my family history. Don’t you think I need one?”

“Oh, that’s not what I mean. I—”

“You’re surprised I admitted it.”

“...Yeah.”

“I admit, it’s not the first thing I tell people when I meet them. But needing or wanting therapy is nothing to be ashamed of. I think a lot of people could benefit from it, whether they have anything heavy to work through or not.”

Finally her doorknob rattles, and I straighten from where I’d been leaning on the wall, smoothing the creases out of my pants.

When Junie emerges out of her bedroom, I can’t help staring.

She’s wearing a dress made of a deep-green, flowy material. The dress cinches in at her waist and flows past her hips. I nearly choke on my own tongue when I see the slit in the dress and the long peek of skin it reveals. The color looks amazing with her red hair, which is done up in some kind of fancy twist thing behind her head.

“Wow.” The word falls out of my mouth, but I’m not even embarrassed. Junie deserves every wow.

She doesn’t seem to mind my praise. In fact, I think she glows a little brighter. “I want you to know I would have had nothing to wear to this dinner tonight if it hadn’t been for your sister warning me I’d need something fancy and helping me pack.”

I can’t respond. Mostly because my thoughts have snagged on that line about Junie having nothing to wear. A wolfish part of my brain is wishing my sister hadn’t said anything to her at all…

Junie clears her throat, and I know a flush creeps up my neck. Again, she looks pleased with herself. Is she enjoying my reaction? Doing this on purpose?

I give her hand a little squeeze and tuck it into the crook of my arm, pulling her with me out of the room and toward the elevator. She clears her throat, and I find myself walking slower, trying to stretch this time with just the two of us for a little while longer.

Normally, I’d have about a thousand pounds of anxious pressure sitting on my chest like an obnoxious and overweight cat. These big, fancy dinners with Dad and his friends always make me feel like that. But that’s not the case this time.

Because I have Junie at my side.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” I whisper.

Why am I whispering? It’s just the two of us waiting for the elevator. There’s no one else around.

She squeezes my arm. “Me too.”

“No, I mean…” I need to make her understand what I’m feeling. But words are stupid, and I’m not sure even I understand what’s going on in my head right now.

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