The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight(42)
Author: Jennifer E. Smith

“What about the baby?”

Dad drops his arms to his sides and takes a step backward, staring at her with a look of such surprise that all of a sudden Hadley isn’t nearly as certain about what she heard earlier. The song ends, but even before the last notes have trailed out over the ballroom, the band rolls straight into the next one, something loud and full of tempo. The tables begin to empty as everyone crowds onto the floor, leaving the waiters to serve plates of salad to vacant chairs. All around them the guests begin to dance, twisting and laughing and hopping around with no particular regard for rhythm. And in the midst of it all, Hadley and her dad stand absolutely still.

“What baby?” he asks, his words measured and deliberate, as if he is speaking to a very small child.

Hadley glances around wildly. A few yards away, Charlotte is peering around Monty, clearly wondering why they’re just standing there.

“I heard something back at the church,” Hadley starts to explain. “Charlotte said something, and I thought—”

“To you?”

“What?”

“She said something to you?”

“No, to the hairdresser. Or makeup artist. Somebody. I just overheard.”

His face loosens visibly, the lines around his mouth going slack.

“Look, Dad,” she says. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Hadley—”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to call and tell me or anything. I know it’s not like we talk a lot. But I just wanted to say that I’d like to be there.”

He’d been about to say something, but now he stops and stares at her.

“I don’t want to miss out anymore,” Hadley says in a rush. “I don’t want the new baby to grow up thinking of me like some long-lost second cousin or something. Someone you never see, and then instead of going shopping together or asking advice or even fighting, you end up just being really polite and having nothing to say because you don’t know each other, not really, not the way brothers and sisters do. And so I want to be there.”

“You do,” Dad says, but it’s not a question. It’s insistent, even hopeful, like a wish he’s been holding back for too long.

“I do.”

The song changes once again, scaling back into something slower, and the people around them start drifting toward their tables, where the salads have all been served. Charlotte reaches out and gives Dad’s arm a little squeeze as she walks by, and Hadley’s grateful that she knows enough not to interrupt them right now.

“And Charlotte’s not so bad, either,” Hadley admits, once she’s passed.

Dad looks amused. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

They’re alone now on the dance floor, just standing there while the rest of the room looks on. Hadley hears the clinking of glasses and the clatter of silverware as people begin to eat, but she’s still keenly aware that all the attention is still focused on them.

After a moment, Dad lifts his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say.”

A new thought strikes Hadley now, something that hasn’t occurred to her before. She says it slowly, her heart banging around in her chest: “You don’t want me to be part of it.”

Dad shakes his head and takes a small step closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Of course I want that,” he says. “There’s nothing I want more. But Hadley?”

She raises her eyes to meet his.

“There’s no baby.”

“What?”

“There will be,” he says almost shyly. “Someday. At least we hope so. Charlotte’s worried because there’s some family history of trouble with these things and she’s not as young as, well, your mom was. But she wants it desperately, and the truth is, so do I. So we’re hoping for the best.”

“But Charlotte said—”

“It’s just the way she is,” he tells her. “She’s one of those people who talks a lot about something when they really want it to happen. It’s almost like she tries to will it into being.”

Hadley can’t help herself; she makes a face. “How’s that working out for her?”

Dad grins and waves a hand at the room. “Well, she used to talk about me a lot. And now look at us.”

“I’m guessing that was more you than the universe.”

“True,” he says ruefully. “But either way, whenever we do have a baby, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Hadley, come on.”

“I just figured since you’ve got all these new people over here…”

“Come on, kiddo,” he says again, his face breaking into a smile. “You’re still the most important thing in my life. And besides, who else can I ask to babysit and change nappies?”

“Diapers,” Hadley says, rolling her eyes. “They’re called diapers, Dad.”

He laughs. “You can call them whatever you want, as long as you’ll be there to help me change them when the time comes.”

“I will,” she says, surprised to find that her voice is a little wobbly. “I’ll be there.”

She’s not sure what else there is to say after that; part of her wants to hug him, to fling herself into his arms the way she used to as a kid. But all this seems beyond her right now; she’s still shell-shocked by the pure momentum of it all, the sheer amount of ground covered in a single day after so much time spent standing still.

Dad seems to understand this, because he’s the first to move, slinging an arm around her shoulders to steer her back toward their table. Tucked beside him like that, in the same way she’s been a thousand times before—walking to the car together after a soccer game, or leaving the Girl Scouts’ annual father-daughter dance—Hadley realizes that even though everything else is different, even though there’s still an ocean between them, nothing really important has changed at all.

He’s still her dad. The rest is just geography.

17

6:10 PM Eastern Standard Time

11:10 PM Greenwich Mean Time

In the same way that Hadley’s claustrophobia often manages to shrink even the biggest spaces, something about the reception—the music or the dancing, or even just the champagne—makes the hours seem as if they’re no more than a handful of minutes. It’s like one of those montages in the movies where everything is sped up, scenes turned into snapshots, conversations into mere instants.