He gives me a firm handshake and continues, “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”
Dad’s never been a touchy kind of guy, and even less so when there are eyes around us.
“I wouldn’t miss out on something like this,” I tell him. Although it’s painfully boring already, the sentiment behind the auction is noble.
“It means a lot to your mother,” Dad says, leading me over to the stage. “I know that this auction has turned into her baby of sorts.”
“What is it this time? Local artwork?” I question. “Not baked goods, or we wouldn’t be inside. Not to mention I would smell it.”
The baked goods mention is a joke that references my mother’s ill-fated and very, very brief foray into trying to learn classical pastry making. It gets a laugh out of my father, just as I had hoped.
“No,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes are dark blue just like mine. He’s getting on in years, with gray starting to streak through his hair. I know that the nurses used to swoon over him when he was younger; according to Tyler, there are a fair few that still do.
“You aren’t going to make me guess, are you?”
“You would never figure it out,” says Dad, clucking his tongue. “You should have been a fly on the wall when she brought this to me. I thought that she had lost it! But… I suppose I’m just out of touch. She says a lot of people do this nowadays.”
We stop in front of the raised platform that has been set up to serve as the stage. “Do what, Dad?”
“Auction off dates,” he explains.
I laugh, but the sound peters off in my throat as I realize that my father isn’t laughing back. “You’re being serious about this.”
Tyler appears behind us, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. “Mom might have come up with it, but I doubt that you put much effort into the protest,” he teases.
My father’s gaze turns even more bright with mirth. “I would never try to talk your mother out of anything.”
“He’s going to buy a date,” says Tyler, his eyes shining. He’s always been keen on having a good time and not worrying about getting tied down.
It’s no wonder that this seems like fun to him, and awkward as hell to me. “Just wait and see.” And then, “And so are you. Right, Nate?”
I stare at him, my brows raising up in surprise. “You’re joking.”
Tyler shakes his head. “You should get one. It’s a good cause, and—” He cuts himself off, probably stopping himself from making another comment about my luck of fun lately.
“You know, a man like yourself would be setting a good example to others by contributing,” Dad chimes in. “It’s just a dinner date, after all.”
I can’t imagine myself going through with this, but I know that he’s right.
I’ve got to set a good example and contribute to the charity cause—even if I do think that the whole idea is an awkward and outdated kind of mess.
Chapter Two
Demi
Aheavyredcurtainhas been hung up, separating the front of the stage from the back of it.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a reason to get dressed up as nicely as I am right now; the floor-length black satin gown feels strange compared to the scrubs and jeans that I’m normally sporting.
One of the petaled folds of the skirt has been pinned up at the hip, revealing several folds of colorful fabric hidden beneath it.
A splash of a rainbow in the dark.
The dress is strapless, and the necklace that I’m wearing was my mother’s. A heavy golden locket, with a red stone in the center.
I’m running my fingers over it when my best friend, Selma, comes over to me. Her glittering silver gown turns her into a jazz star.
I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than her.