My dad raises both brows, looking between the two of us.
“I am, too,” he says slowly. “Chris, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. More than fine,” Christopher says, his voice calm and commanding, as if he’s completely in control of this difficult conversation. I trust him completely, and my heart swells as he aims a comforting smile at me. “Rick, this may be difficult for you to hear, and I understand if you need some time to fully absorb it. But I’m in love with your daughter, and Bailey is in love with me. We’re in a committed relationship.”
There. It’s out in the open, hanging in the air like smoke. I wonder how badly we’re about to get burned.
My dad sets down his wine glass.
“Excuse me?” he says, as if he misheard something in a casual conversation.
“I’ve always loved your daughter,” Christopher says, looking unperturbed, “but a few months ago, that love became something different and new. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner--”
“How many months?” my dad asks, his voice low.
“We’ve been in a relationship for about three months,” Christopher responds.
“Three months? And what the fuck were you doing with her before you were ‘in a relationship?’” my dad growls.
“Dad, I’m nineteen,” I interject, as Christopher’s eyes narrow. I can sense a fight brewing between them and want to mitigate it as much as possible. “I’m sorry, but I’m an adult now, and I can date whoever I want.”
“That does not include a 45-year-old who’s known you since you were a kid!” my dad finally explodes, pushing his chair back and rising from the table, his fists clenched. Christopher also rises, but it’s to come to my side, placing his hand protectively on my shoulder.
“Get away from her!” my dad snarls, looking like he wants to lunge across the table.
“Dad, please calm down,” I cry, feeling tears prick at my eyelids. I had tried to brace myself for this reaction, but it still stings. Christopher squeezes my shoulder, and I look up at him to see that he still looks impassive, in control.
“Rick, I know how hard this must be, and how much you love Bailey,” he says, calmly. “But I love her, too. I would move mountains for her. This isn’t just a fling; I’m never going to hurt her. We’re really, truly in love.”
“You son of a bitch!” my dad shouts, and begins to stalk around the table towards us. I can’t help it--I cry out, and Christopher immediately sweeps me into his arms, murmuring soothing words against my hair.
I prepare for my dad to wrench Christopher away from me, but it never comes. I tentatively open one eye and peek. My dad has stopped cold, staring at us, slack-jawed.
“You really do love her, don’t you?” my dad asks, almost tremulously.
This is my chance. I disentangle myself from Christopher’s arms and slowly, carefully take my dad’s hand. Ricks lets me, but won’t meet my gaze.
“Dad, I love you so much,” I say. “And I love Christopher, too, so much. He makes me want to be the best version of myself I can be. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel confident. He makes me brave. And I want to do all those things for him, too. Forever.”
My dad takes a deep breath, lets it out, squeezes my hand, and looks at me--really looks at me. Whatever he sees makes him smile the tiniest bit. At that, I fling my arms around him and hug him as tightly as I can. “I love you, Dad,” I whisper. “Please don’t be angry.”
“And if you are angry,” Christopher says, “be angry at me. Bailey did nothing wrong.”
My dad looks meditative for a moment, staring at our clasped hands.
“Neither of you did anything wrong,” Rick sighs, holding me at arm’s length before turning his attention to Christopher. “I can really see that you two care about each other. I admit it--it’s going to take me a while to get used to this. But if you two are really, truly happy together, then how could I not be happy?”
“And,” I pipe up, jumping at the chance for some humor, “at least I’m not with Donnie anymore, right?”
Thank God this makes both my dad and Christopher laugh. They shake hands, we all make up, and, most wonderful of all, we dig into the pumpkin pie.
When it comes time to leave, I tell my dad that I’m going with Christopher. He blinks a few times, shakes his head, and kisses me on the cheek.
“Take good care of her, okay?” he says to his best friend. “She’s the only daughter I’ve got.”
“He always does,” I assure him.
I shrug into my coat, and Christopher holds the door open for me. The autumn night is beautifully crisp, chill, with the moon hanging high above us. It almost looks like the face in the moon is smiling approvingly down at us.