At 7:30 p.m., Liv ushered the guests into dinner in the Great Hall. Vanessa and Lenny took their seats at the head table. But the general’s chair, several seats down from Vanessa’s, was empty. Liv glanced over the other tables, wondering if he’d missed his name card.
“Excuse me?”
General Fitzpatrick was standing on the stage, a microphone in one hand. Zach, who was supposed to be MC’ing, shrugged helplessly at Liv, mouthing, He just took it!
“Quiet,” ordered the general, and the room obeyed.
Liv ran through her options. Should she take the mic? Cut the power? Scream, “Look at me, I’m a pumpkin!” and hustle the old man back to the 1950s? Catching Savannah’s eye, Liv pointed at Zach and made a warning face. Savannah nodded. She understood that if the old man went rogue, Zach should drown him out.
“My name is General Tucker Fitzpatrick and I’m…”
Liv tensed, a sprinter ready for the starter gun. If he said “Adam’s father,” she’d take him out herself.
The bride was sitting stock-still. Her face was the color of her dress.
Savannah was by Zach’s side. The DJ had one finger hovering over his computer keyboard, ready.
“I’m,” said the general, “I’m Vanessa’s father.”
Liv let out a breath. It hadn’t been easy to say it. But at least he had.
The general rubbed between his eyes. “Although I probably haven’t been a very good father the past few years.”
Liv swapped a look of disbelief with Savannah. That was the last thing she expected him to admit.
“When I look around this room,” the general continued, “I don’t see a lot of familiar faces. I don’t really know my daughter’s life here.” Again, too much emphasis on daughter. But he was trying. “I don’t really know my daughter. At all. And that’s… well, that’s my fault.”
No one moved. All fidgeting and whispers and wine guzzling had ceased. The room was utterly, eerily silent.
“I was scared, I guess. Of something that I didn’t know anything about. Something that seemed very… strange to me.”
Liv tensed. Pull it back, old man.
“But I’d like to get to know you, Vanessa. I’d like to meet you. The real you. If it’s… if it’s not too late.” The general’s eyes watered. His voice thickened, on the verge of breaking. “Because I’ll always be your father. Your daddy.” And now his voice did crack. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I wish you and Lenny nothing but the best.” The general offered a shaking hand. “Would you do me the great honor of joining me for the father-daughter dance?”
Vanessa let out a sob, and rose to her feet.
Liv’s eyes welled. It’d been so long since she’d borne witness to this. A moment in which this cruel and terrible world seemed almost good. Almost wonderful. Across the room, Sam was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, wiping away a tear. Liv caught his eye and held his gaze. For a long moment, they were the only two people in the room.
A tiny latch, no bigger than a thimble, sprung open inside Liv’s chest.
Vanessa crossed the floor to her father. Zach put on “You’ve Got A Friend” by James Taylor. The sweet and simple melody filled the hall—“Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call…”—and General Tucker Adam Fitzpatrick danced with his only daughter, the two of them holding each other with a careful, new tenderness.