Page 127 of Lovebug
“She did?” I turn to my mom. “You did? You never drink. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, baby. But who is this man? What would Bert say about this situation? I don’t think Bert would appreciate this kind of behavior.”
“Mom, Bert is a mock turtleneck-wearing cheater with mommy issues who named his penis after a crime show producer.”
“Oh, I don’t like crime shows,” my mother winces.
“Did you hear me, Mom? I said he cheated on me.”
“And he named his penis,” Wally mumbles under his breath.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mom says, “I’m sure that was painful for you, but I’m certain you can work things out. Would you like me to call his mother?”
“No, Mom!”
“Because I’m sure if we all just sit down and—”
“So the engagement is off?” my dad interrupts, cutting through all the chaos.
“Yes Dad, the engagement is off,” I say, but when I look at him I realize his eyes aren’t on me. They’re boring into Wally.
Wally takes this as his opportunity to introduce himself. He places me gently to the side and unleashes quite the mattress squeak as his stands and reaches his full height, towering over my dad. He offers his hand. “Abe, was it? Wallace Bieber. Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Get out of my house,” is my father’s only response. No hand shake. No pleasantries. Nothing.
“Very well, sir.” Wally moves to gather his things.
“And don’t you dare come near my daughter ever again,” he barks.
“With all due respect sir,” Wally says as he buttons up his shirt—the few buttons still remaining—“your daughter is a grown woman, so I think she should be the one making decisions about who she sees and how.”
“You don’t know my daughter. She needs someone to look after her.“
“No, I do not!” I shout as I finish up—mostly—dressing myself.
“I’m sorry, Abe,” Wally interjects, “but I won’t be engaging in this with you any further.”
“Engaging in what with me?”
“I will not continue to speak about Mabel with you as if she’s not here. Like it or not, Abe. I’m in love with your daughter. And there’s something you should know about me from the get-go.”
He’s in love with me?
“And what’s that?” Dad huffs.
“I’m FAF, sir,” Wally says with seriousness.
“FAF? What does that mean?”
“F-A-F,” he spells it out. “Feminist as fuck, sir.”
Dad finally turns to face me. “This is the kind of man you want to be with, Mabel?”
I look directly into my father’s eyes, take a deep breath, and say, “It is, yeah.” Then I look at up Wally and gather his hand in mine. “Heis.”
Wally smiles that glorious smile.
Am I imagining that my mom smiles too?
