Page 15 of The Very First Night

“Poli-Sci with a Pre-Law minor.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, uh—I want to go into politics.”

“That’s really cool!” I’ve never known anyone who was in politics. However, as silence overtakes us, I find myself questioning if that was an appropriate response.

“You don’t know who my dad is, do you?” His expression is reserved, tentative, and—dare I say—a little nervous.

“Should I?”

“My name is Elijah Hanas.” He stares at me as if he is anticipating me to have an “Aha!” moment, but I don’t.

“Okay…”

His confused expression from before is nothing compared to the evident amusement on his face now. “My dad is Mike Hanas.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Well…yes…you probably should.” He releases a full-bellied laugh. “He is the Governor of Ohio.”

I feel…so stupid, even though I don’t follow politics.

How the hell didn’t I know that?! I swear, the further from going back in time I get, the less I remember anything about the future.

“Wow, how did I get into college?” I choke out through laughter. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be… It’s kind of refreshing, anyway…not being automatically recognized by my dad.” A sadness seeps into Elijah’s expression, but it melts away just as quickly. “What do your parents do?”

The whiplash of emotions has me shifting from amusement to discomfort in a matter of seconds, the previous light energy souring.

“My mom manages a restaurant in Dublin.”

“And your dad?” He raises his brows in curiosity.

“He…” I clear my throat. “My mom manages a restaurant in Dublin.”

My reiteration seems to turn on a light in his mind, the realization finally dawning on him.

I’m thankful when he doesn’t pry.

“What restaurant? Maybe I know it,” he says with a grin.

“I very strongly doubt it. It’s not, like, famous.”

“Try me.”

“Pip’s Bar & Grill.”

A moment passes and I am sure he is going to respond, reaffirming that he’s never heard of it. Then he says, “They have the best bacon jalapeño popper burger.” He grins from ear to ear.

“I stand corrected.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of my dad; he loves that place. We went all the time when I was a kid.”

I don’t know how to go about telling him that the reason I wouldn’t know that—outside of just generally not following politics—is because I never really spent much time at the restaurant.

As a kid, my mom worked a lot. I mean, being a single mom, that’s par for the course. But I spent most of my time at my grandma’s, and, if we’re being completely honest, I had a closer relationship with her than with my mother.

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