Perfectly Ever After (Pieces) (12 page)

Eva held my gaze, showing that she wasn't intimidated.
Good girl.
"He found one place for us to share."

I inhaled deeply, but she interrupted me.
“Dad, don’t freak out.”
How is a father supposed to
not
freak out when his daughter says those four words?
“We’re getting an apartment together. I should’ve said something sooner, but I wanted to tell you in person.”

Deep breaths, Adam.
So my daughter’s moving in with a guy? A guy she's been with since she was sixteen and who you know very well. Think before you speak or she'll never come home to visit.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Sorry. Just trying to take it all in." I took another deep breath. "You're a grown woman, Eva. You can make your own decisions. I just want to make sure you're doing what's best for
you.
No one else."

"Not even us," Carly interrupted, giving me a sideways glance.

Traitor.

"We obviously miss you like crazy,
” Carly added emphatically. “But if living with Cage in Boston is what will make you happiest, then that's what you should do." I knew why Carly empathized so strongly with Eva. She had always been independent as well and probably related strongly with Eva’s need to be her own woman.

Both of them looked at me, waiting for me to firmly declare my stance. "Okay, okay, I agree," I laughed as I held my hands in front of me. "Man, the two of you looked ready to beat me with your silverware."
I grew more serious and turned all of my attention to Eva. "I've only ever wanted you to be happy. If Cage is what makes you happy, then I'm happy."

Eva smiled broadly. "Thanks, Daddy."

I was always "Daddy" in those moments—the ones where I completely caved and let her have whatever she wanted. But even though I knew she only said it after shaking me down, my heart still always skipped a beat when I heard it. There was no term of endearment stronger in my mind.

My memory flashed back to one of the last times Eva called me Daddy
: at my wedding reception. I remembered yanking a younger, more rebellious-looking Cage out of the ballroom in order to give him a piece of my mind. But really, he'd ended up giving
me
a piece of
his.
I had been impressed with him then, and I was still impressed with him now. Not that I'd ever admit that to anyone. Eva had definitely chosen a strong, determined man. I hoped I had something to do with that. "Well, at least they have a great program in Boston. Who knows? Maybe ten years from now when you have your own adolescent psychology practice, you can treat these two,” I said, gesturing to Nolan and Mya, who had slid under the table and were pulling at my legs. “God knows they’re crazy
already
.”

“Uh . . . yeah, about that, Dad.”

Eva looked to Carly, then back to me.
“I actually changed the area of psychology I'm going to study. Well, not
change
as much as
add to
.” She was hesitant, which was
not
a good sign.

I couldn’t understand why Eva would be so embarrassed to tell me she’d changed her mind about her degree.
A graduate degree in any field of psychology would be an accomplishment. “I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

Eva's face turned an interesting shade of crimson. “I’m going to school to become a sex therapist, Dad," she blurted out.

I nearly choked on a sip of iced tea and had to take a few moments to catch my breath.
Did I just hear her right?
“A sex therapist? What . . . what is that exactly?” Again, I looked to Carly, but she only sat there, her chin resting in her hand, clearly entertained.

“It’s not what you think, Dad.
Sex is an important part of any relationship, and human sexuality is the core of our very being.”

Is she for real? Is she seriously talking about sex while we’re eating lunch with her three-year-old siblings?
“The core of our very being,” I repeated in disbelief.

“Many of the traumas we face as children manifest themselves sexually in adulthood. Ultimately, I’d like to combine adolescent psychology with a dual major in human sexuality. It would allow me to help adults recover from the devastating events they experienced as children.” When I made no move to speak, she continued. “Dad, it’s not like I’ll be teaching people how to have sex or something.”

“I think it sounds interesting,” Carly said, amused.

"Thank you, Carly," Eva replied smugly.

“It's not that it's not interesting. Or worthwhile. I just. . . Jesus Christ, can we talk about something else?" It wasn't that I didn't want to know what Eva was doing with her life, but I definitely didn't need any more specifics.

"Dad, everyone has sex."

"Yes, I know. But thanks for spelling it out anyway, Eva,” I said sarcastically before trying to refrain from hyperventilating.
"It’s just that when I was sitting there today, watching you graduate from college, I couldn’t help but think that you’ll always be my little girl.” I extended my hand across the table to take Eva’s palm in mine. “It’s hard to watch you grow up. You’ll see one day when you have kids of your own.” I shot up straighter. “Although, hopefully that won’t be anytime soon.”

“Of course not,” she assured me.
“Dad, I’ll never stop being your little girl,” she said sweetly. “Even when I’m talking to people about the importance of masturbation.”

“Really, Eva?”

“Thought I’d lighten the mood,” she said with a laugh.

And for some strange reason, as I looked around the table, I couldn’t help but laugh too.
I glanced at my loving wife and my two young children, who had picked the moment Eva had mentioned masturbation to finally sit quietly and give their undivided attention to the conversation. And I looked into the eyes of my daughter, who was all grown up but would always be my little girl.
This is it
, I thought.
This is my perfectly ever after. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Elizabeth Hayley is actually "Elizabeth" and "Hayley," two friends who love reading romance novels to obsessive levels. This mutual love prompted them to put their English degrees to good use by penning their own. The product is
 
Pieces of Perfect
, their debut novel. They learned a ton about one another through the process, like how they clearly share a brain and have a persistent need to text each other constantly (much to their husbands' chagrin).

"Elizabeth" lives with her husband, one and a half year old daughter, and
nutjob of a dog. “Hayley” lives with her husband and their own crazy dog. They are hoping to adopt a newborn soon.

Elizabeth Hayley's writing motto is best captured by the words of Patrick Dennis: "I always start with a clean piece of paper and a dirty mind." 

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We’ll make this short and sweet.  Thank you to all of our fans who support us, our writing, and our psychotic antics.  We appreciate you more than sex and chocolate, so that should tell you something.  As always, we are extremely grateful to Alison Bliss for her brutal honesty and helpful suggestions. In other words, thanks for telling us when our writing is shit and then giving us perfect ways to fix it.  Amanda, you’ve always loved Adam, so we hope we did his story justice.  Thanks for your continued support, and remember to always protect your voice box in a gun fight. Lauren, thank you for catching all of our mistakes. You always have your work cut out for you since we're morons. We appreciate all of the hard work you put into editing our books. To the real "Elizabeth Hayley," great job on the cover. And no, no one noticed they were Asian. Thank you for all you do to help our dreams come true. Normally we'd thank each other, but we've run out of things to say to one another at the moment. Thanks for reading!  Get Wet and stay that way!