Page 88 of The Relationship Clause

That shouldn’t make me anxious, should it? He’s my dad. He’ll be supportive of me no matter what. He’s never questioned my life choices so far, so why would he start now? And yet, for some reason, I’m worried he will.

I don’t tell Kiera and Summer any of this though. Instead, I force a close-lipped smile and shrug my shoulders.

“No, I’m excited,” I lie. “I just have a lot going on, you know? I haven’t been able to let myself get as hyped up as I usually do.”

Kiera shrugs. “Fair enough, I guess.” But I don’t miss the worried glance she exchanges with Summer.

“I’m fine, guys. Promise.”

Or, at least, I will be fine. Eventually.

CHAPTER 28

JUNIE

My dad’s already at a table at our usual lunch place, and as soon as I walk in, he waves at me. “Junebug! Over here!”

We greet each other with a hug, and I’m immersed in his old, familiar scent, like worn leather from a classic car. I take a deep breath, letting it steady my nerves. Nothing to be worried about.

“I got you orange juice already,” Dad says, pointing to the full glass already on the table. “Lots of pulp, the way you like.”

I smile and take a sip of it. I actually switched to no pulp a few years ago because I got tired of how the little pieces get caught in my teeth, but I don’t say anything. It obviously didn’t help the last time I told him. “Thanks, Dad. How was your flight? I don’t even know where you flew in from.”

“Cairo,” he says after a long swig of his own drink. “And the flight was long. Very long. The excursion was fantastic though. Want to see some pictures?”

I nod, and he grabs his phone, flipping through photo after photo of pyramids, statues, artifacts, and desert sands. We sit close, heads bent together as he regales me with facts and stories. It’s nostalgic. This used to be one of my favorite parts of him coming home from his adventures.

Here and there, there is a rare image of him beside another person he traveled with, but for the most part, it’s all inanimate objects or nature shots, like usual. It’s never bothered me in the past, but for some reason, this time, it fills me with a foreign sense of sadness.

“Looks like you had a fun time,” I say when we’ve gotten through all the pictures. “Must have made for a great article.”

“It will. I’m still working on the article part. Want me to send it to you when I finish?”

“Of course.”

Our waitress arrives, and we order our usuals: Dad’s pastrami sandwich, cheddar soup, and salad, and my BLT with avocados and a side of chips.

“So, how’s your job going?” he says when she leaves. “You’re working as a secretary, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm, it’s good. I like the company and my boss.” This, of course, is a perfect segue into mentioning the fact that I happen to be dating my boss, but I don’t take it. Somehow, I don’t think that would go over too well. “What about you? Where are you headed to next?”

“Alaska again.”

“Nice. You must be excited about that.”

“You have no idea. I’ve been trying to get back to Alaska for months now, and I finally got the chance. I’m hoping to make it to a Nome. I’ve got a contact there who promised me some rides in his single-engine aircraft. We’ll probably…”

I sit back in my seat, sipping my drink slowly as I listen to him. It’s much easier to get my dad talking about himself than it is for me to talk. As a guy who’s been practically everywhere and done almost everything, he has no end of stories to tell, and he’s usually happy to share them with whoever will listen. With a couple more questions from me, he ends up talking until our food arrives.

“I’m so sorry, Juniper Tree,” he says once our waitress has gone again. “I’ve been monopolizing the conversation. I want to hear more about you. What’s been going on? And, wait a minute, why is it just the two of us? On the phone, I thought you mentioned I might be meeting a certain special someone of yours?”

My cheeks warm, and I make myself busy with opening my bag of chips and putting the perfect amount of mayonnaise on my sandwich. At least he remembered to ask about Owen.

“Yeah, about that... I was going to have you meet him, but he ended up having to go out of town for business for a few days.”

“Ah, too bad,” he says after a bite of his pastrami. “Well, tell me about him anyway. What’s his name? How’d you meet?”

I launch into a monologue about Owen and how we met, barely pausing to draw breath. I don’t realize it at first, but the more I talk, the happier I get. What was I so worried about? Dad wants to know about my life, and Owen is part of my life now. He’ll be happy for me.

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