Page 7 of Fathers of the Bride

“They use collard greens in their sushi rolls instead of seaweed,” Avery told Kelly. “Isn’t that interesting, honey?”

“Mmmm.” To the waiter she said, “I’ll have the southern-fried tofu. Can the eel sauce be on the side?”

It could. He turned to my future son-in-law.

“I’ll have the sashimi in red-eyed gravy.”

“Oh, I just don’t know what to get,” Raj said, studying the menu intently. “Everything looks so, so good. Oh, I know, I absolutelymusttry the hush puppy salmon roll and the tempura corn bread,andthe Sapporo marinated chicken wings.

The waiter turned to me, and I said, “Steak. Medium. House salad.”

“That’s not on the menu.”

Before I had a chance to make a scene, Raj stood up and whispered something into the waiter’s ear. He stared at Raj a moment and then said, “Fine. Grubhub it is.” He turned and walked away.

I looked at my lovely daughter. How could she even be thinking of marriage? She was so young, so fresh, so innocent. Apparently not that innocent. The apple hadn’t fallenthatfar from the tree.

“So, honeymoon?” I asked.

A big smile came over Kelly’s face. “Camping in Yosemite.”

“You mean outdoors?” Raj asked.

“Why don’t I rent you a travel trailer?” I suggested. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“My parents have two,” Avery said. “We could borrow—”

“I want my honeymoon to be in a tent. A verysmalltent.”

That silenced us. When she knew what she wanted, my daughter got what she wanted. It was a trait that went all the way back to infancy.

“Actually,” she continued. “I saw these amazing tents you can get that you tie between trees like hammocks.”

“Oh, I saw those,” Avery replied. “Much better than tents on the ground.”

The way he was looking at my daughter made me wonder if this was all going to be okay. A man who was willing to sleep in a tent hung from a tree—which to me sounded not only uncomfortable but dangerous—well, he might be exactly the man for her.

Raj began grilling Avery on what it was his mother and stepmother liked about his Instagram posts. He tried to make it seem like he was inviting constructive criticism, but he was really fishing for ego strokes. Kelly leaned in close and asked me, “So are you and Daddy speaking?”

“Of course, we’re speaking. We’re co-parents.”

“I’m twenty-four. That shouldn’t be a lot of work.”

“I sent him a text last week.”

“What did it say?”

“‘Die, Mommy, Dieis on television. It made me think of you.’” She glowered at me. “What? He loves that kind of movie. And I almost never call him Mommy.”

“The two of you are going to have to get along. At least until after the wedding.”

“We’re both adults. We’ll be fine,” I said, sure that my ex would walk out of any room I walked into. Basically, I had nothing to worry about.

“You should call him. Have coffee or something.”

“Why would I do that?”

“When was the last time you actually saw Daddy?”