27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Susie

After watching the game with Brie’s Aunt Marie and Uncle Rich, I went to my parents' house. Mom told me that I needed to tell my father I was married and that I needed to do it sooner rather than later.

Since Brie’s aunt and uncle live next door, I guess there’s no time like the present.

I rest my hand on the doorknob and take a deep breath before pushing the door open and heading inside.

“Hey, Mom, Dad, it’s me,” I call out, closing the front door behind me. I take my coat off and hang it in the closet.

“In here,” my dad calls from the living room. I head down the hall to the living room, hearing talking. When I reach the living room, I find both my parents sitting on the couch watching the press conference on TV.

I look over to my mom, and the gleam in her green eyes has my stomach swirling. I hope that’s a sign that dad will take the news that his daughter got married to a virtual stranger well. But it’s more likely that she’s finding humor in a slightly crazy situation that isn’t in one of my novels.

Dad points to the TV just as he mutes it. “Do you have any news about this whole Tea Time , Josh kissing someone else thing?”

The tightness in my stomach loosens. This is an easy topic for me to talk about. I fill them both in on my conversation with Josh and Adam.

“Well, that explains why his play was so sloppy.” Dad unmutes the TV to listen to the rest of the press conference as if there’s nothing more to discuss.

“Adam, huh?” My mom asks, and I narrow my eyes at her. My heart thrashing around in my chest. She presses her lips together.

“Yes,” I say tightly. “Adam was talking with Josh when this supposedly happened and said there was no kissing.”

“Well, that’s good,” my dad says, not picking up on my mom’s teasing tone. “It would be foolish of him to wreck things with Brie after they finally got together.”

His attention focuses back on the TV and the press conference. Dad has a superpower.

When sports are on, he tunes out anything else happening around him. This is where Josh and I get our laser-focused, slightly obsessive personalities when it comes to sports.

“Is that Daniels’ jersey?” He nods toward the number on my chest.

The question catches me off guard, and I look down at my Mavs jersey. I don’t need to look down. I know whose jersey it is. But I’m nervous, and when I’m nervous, I do silly things—not just babble. Like right now, I pull the jersey away from my body and show him the number that he already saw.

“Yup,” I squeak out, causing my dad to look at me with his eyes narrowed and the corner of his lips curled.

“I see someone has a crush on the new lineman.” My dad chuckles and pats my mom’s knee.

“I think you could say it’s something like that,” my mom answers, wearing a smile so big I’m pretty sure I’d easily be able to count every one of her teeth. I scowl at her and she just smirks at me. “Go ahead, honey, and tell your dad.”

“Tell me what?” Dad says without turning his head away from the TV.

“Oh, just that I’m married.” I turn and start to walk out of the house. “Gotta go. See you—”

“Suzanne Amelia Owens!” My dad calls out. “What did you just say?”

“That I’m married?” I ask, my back to him.

“Is that question for you or me?” I turn back to him and see his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

“Well, you asked me what I said, and I answered?” Why can’t I stop answering a question with a question? I thought I got over this when I became an adult. Apparently not.

“How about you come over here and sit down.” He points to the chair across from him. I slowly walk toward my parents and sit. I look from my mom to my dad. My mom’s eyes twinkle, and my dad’s are perplexed. My stomach is a whirling mess, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick. “Go ahead and start from the beginning.”

And just like that, I spill.

The story falls from my mouth in a cascade of words. I tell him about Chase and the Blitz Brigade, then how I met Adam and our conversations. Then, when I found out Chase was at one of the Mavericks games, I mentioned we should meet up.

“Susie!” My dad yells, shock filling his voice. “He could’ve been a serial killer!”

“That’s exactly what I said!” I exclaim, my eyes wide.

“Then why did you meet up with him?” I almost laugh at the stunned expression on his face. Almost. But I don’t since I’m sure he wouldn’t see the humor like I do.

“Because Brie told me that that was a silly reason not to meet him.” My mother laughs at my reply, only to receive a glare from my dad.

“Since you’re not surprised by this news, I think you were aware that our daughter is married?” He scoffs.

“I found out last night and told her she needed to tell you as soon as possible. She’s here, isn’t she?” She looks at me, and I nod.

“That’s the truth.” I shift my gaze back to my dad. “She was very firm that I needed to let you know.”

“You and I will have a chat later.” He says sternly to my mom who has the decency to look duly chastised. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. My dad looks pointedly at me. “I’m guessing that he wasn’t a serial killer then?”

“Nope,” I say with too much enthusiasm if my dad’s scowl is any indication.

I continue where I left off, telling him how Chase didn’t respond, and then he did. When we met up, Chase was Adam, about the visa issue, the marriage, living at the farmhouse—

“Wait, wait, wait!” My dad’s hand is pushed out in front of him, his eyes are squinted and his head is tilted. “You’re living at the farmhouse? My parents’ old house?”

“Oh yeah, Adam is living in grandma and grandpa’s old house.” My dad’s eyes flair, his face turns red, and my stomach sinks. I am bad at telling my father this story in a way that would make him feel good about all of this.

I write best-selling books; how can I not have this conversation?

Editors! I internally slap my palm to my forehead.

If only Norma were with me, editing my thoughts before they flew out of my mouth.

“Honey.” My mom puts her hand on my father’s arm. He slowly turns to her. Her voice is calm and soothing. “Breathe and let her finish.”

I watch my dad take a deep breath before slowly blowing it out. He then swallows hard and splays one of his hands out in front of me, indicating I should continue.

This time, I swallow against the cotton sticking to the top of my mouth. Who would’ve thought telling my dad about me being secretly married would be so hard? Not Amelia Adams, that’s for sure, but let me tell you, it’s so much harder to do in real life than in a romance novel.

I also have a completely new respect for my editor.

I look at my dad and see a host of emotions running through his eyes. My stomach knots as I realize he’s not angry, so much as he’s hurt.

“Daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anyone.” It’s my turn to take a deep breath and slowly blow it out. “I wanted to make sure that the feelings I felt for Adam were something that could be real. We both acknowledged we had feelings for the other, but we also knew that it was still really early to make a decision to get married. Despite that, Adam needed help, and I decided to help him. So we got married with the understanding that we would try dating first.”

“And now?” My dad’s voice is scratchy, and his eyes are shiny.

“Now, I know I love him,” I say self-consciously. It’s only the third time I’ve said it out loud. “And considering he wants to marry me for real, I’m pretty sure he loves me too.”

My dad turns to my mom, who gives him a soft smile and squeezes his hand. When he looks back at me, I see his eyes filled with tears.

“Daddy.” I get up and move to the couch beside him, grabbing his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t get to walk my daughter down the aisle.” His voice is gruff. “I didn’t get to give you away.”

I throw my arms around his neck, and he squeezes me tight. “For that wedding, no.”

“What?” My mom asks, just as my dad says. “Say that again?”

“Adam and I talked about getting married before our families.” This time, I don’t bother trying to smother the smile that spreads across my face. “I’m nearly positive there will be another wedding. One where you can walk me down the aisle and give me away.”

My mom bounces in her seat while my dad’s face is comical. I don’t know if he wants to celebrate or scream in frustration. Instead, he firmly says. “Tell that young man he can expect a phone call from me.”

I cover my mouth and giggle like a teenager. “Yes, Daddy.”