Page 68 of Fathers of the Bride

“I’m still married to your father, and I have no plans to become a bigamist.”

“Even when you and Daddy get divorced?”

Okay, that was a trickier question. Maybe we’d still get divorced, maybe we wouldn’t. I went with a very simple, “No.”

“Have you told Raj?”

“Yes. I think I’ve made it very clear.”

Did he understand, though? Did he accept it? Those were more challenging questions.

“Someone was at the house last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I got home this morning, Daddy and I were in the kitchen when someone left. He tried to pretend it was the wind. That was a lie.”

Oh God, I hadn’t wanted to tell her I’d spent the night—and obviously Miles didn’t want to tell her, or he would have. Yes, she’s an adult. Yes, she’s twenty-four. We should be able to talk honestly about these things. Except…

The fact that her fathers spent the night together might not mean anything. Or it might mean a lot. At this point, it was up in the air and certainly not the kind of thing I wanted my daughter to worry about. Or be disappointed if it didn’t happen. Or worse, not be disappointed. It seemed best to go with something sort of close to the truth. Truth-adjacent.

“I’m sure I heard them mention strong winds on the weather this morning.”

She inhaled sharply. “It was you.”

“All right it was me. I, uh, stayed over last night. I wanted to make sure he was okay after falling off the pier. He could have had a concussion or internal injuries.”

Things I should have thought about before having sex with him. God, I was a selfish bastard. Should I go back and take him to the doctor?

“I didn’t think he should be alone,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

“I slept in the guest room,” I lied as casually as possible. Then, to change the subject I asked, “How was the rest of the party? I didn’t get to see you at all.”

“I have no idea how the party was. We didn’t go.”

“You didn’t? Oh my God. Avery’s family must be livid.”

Right then, Raj came into the room. He had a tangerine bottle of cologne in his hands. “This is the worst cologne I’ve ever smelled. Here, smell it,” he said, holding the bottle under my nose.

“No, stop, I’m on the phone.”

“Do you need to go, Papa?” Kelly asked.

“No. Raj needs to go.” He held the bottle under my nose. “Oh God, that’s disgusting.”

“They’ll give me twenty-five thousand to promote it. Do you think I should ask for more? You’re still my manager, right?”

“I’m on the phone.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Tell them for thirty-five I’ll say it smells like sex. It does a little bit. Though not in a good way.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“You know I’m going to have to blame the breakup on you, right?”

“Papa, did he say breakup?”