Page 188 of Rush
"Yeah, I am."
His eyes shift to Rush and the warmth cools slightly.
"Rush," he says.
"Diesel, good to see you."
They shake hands and I watch the silent assessment happen—my dad checking if Rush is still stepping up, and Rush proving he is.
Crowe appears and grins when he sees me. "Little Everly's all grown up."
"I was grown up when I left, Crowe."
"Yeah, but now you're really grown up. Having a baby and everything."
He shakes Rush's hand. "Heard you've been treating her right."
"Trying to," Rush says.
"That's all anyone can do."
The afternoon is a parade of introductions. The old ladies I've known my whole life hugging me, asking about the pregnancy, offering unsolicited advice. The brothers I grew up around clapping Rush on the shoulder, sizing him up. Everyone's polite but I can feel the undercurrent.
They're evaluating him, deciding if he's worthy of me. It's exhausting and overwhelming. I finally escape to the back porch for air, and my dad follows me out.
"How are you really doing?" he asks.
"I'm good, Dad. Really good."
"Dublin treating you right?"
"Yeah, it is. I love it there."
He leans against the railing. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd leave South Carolina."
"Neither did I."
"And Rush?"
"What about him?"
"Is he good to you?"
"He's amazing to me, Dad. He goes to every appointment, he's excited about the baby, he's building us a life in Dublin."
"You moved in together?"
"Into the apartment above the clubhouse, yeah. Pyro set it up for us."
My dad's jaw tightens but he doesn't argue.
"I still worry," he says.
"I know you do."
"But I can see he's stepped up. The way he looks at you... that's real."
"It is real."
