The first hint that morning approached showed on the horizon. Dani, blurry-eyed, slumped into the passenger seat of Shelly's mom's Oldsmobile station wagon outside Jon's trailer. Shelly had dashed for the bushes, bent over, and hurled as soon as she'd parked.
The sound made Dani's head pound. She felt like she needed to puke herself, her mouth dry, prickly.
Oh man, what if I'm…
She hadn't considered that possibility last night. And yet, even that idea didn't sting like knowing what she'd thrown away.
She felt hollow.
The white wedding, Mom's dress, that first night when she, with a new name and a new golden band, would hold her husband's hand, look him deep in the eye and, in some special, romantic place with new satin sheets, offer him the gift she'd been saving for a lifetime as they started their new life.
Until death do you part.
Lost. On the couch next to yesterday's pizza.
She laid her head on the dash and sobbed, glad Jon wasn't here to see. He slept like a baby when she'd pried herself from under him. Didn't notice her tears. Didn't stir when she'd called Shelly and begged her to come get her at three in the morning.
I'll never have that to offer ever again.
The words from Kari's purity sermon pounded in her head: "I can be like you anytime, but you can never again be like me."
The fading moonlight glinted off the purity ring. Dani took it off. Considered throwing it out the window. Fingered the etching: True Love Waits.
She slipped it into her pocket.
The driver's side door groaned, and Shelly flopped in. Dani couldn't remember seeing Shelly without makeup. Ever. The bags under her eyes had bags. Her pajama sleeve had caught some of the vomit. So had her tangled hair.
"You look terrible," Shelly croaked, reaching for Dani's hand. "Want to talk about it?"
"Just get me home. I need to get ready for school."
Twenty minutes later, Dani dragged herself up the porch steps and leaned her head on the front door before opening it as quietly as she could. She shushed Teddy Bear as he rose to greet her and wobbled through the living room on tiptoe. Stumbled. Stopped. Her bedroom door was open, and a voice projected from it—Daddy.
She hadn't considered the possibility Daddy would be awake so early. Or that maybe, like her, he hadn't slept at all. She eased herself onto the couch as Teddy Bear yawned and ambled over to her, and Daddy prayed in his strong, calm voice, reminding her of years of bedtime prayers. He prayed she'd recover quickly and be okay. Prayed for wisdom as a father, that he'd know what to do and how to guide his adult children.
And then Daddy prayed for Jon and the other members of the band.
He knows their names?
Daddy circled back, prayed forever about every imaginable aspect of her life. Prayed God would help her stay focused on Jesus, help her stay pure.
Teddy Bear nuzzled into her as she stifled a sob. She tried to shush him. He took that as his cue to hop on the couch.
"Shhhhh!" Dani said as the couch creaked.
The praying stopped.
Dani winced as the living room lights came on.
"You're home?"
Dani had rehearsed this, even if she hadn't planned on playing her part so soon. "Signed myself out." Slow down. Don't slur. "Shelly drove me home."
She felt like she was under inspection. Daddy controlled his facial expressions, but the veins on his neck popped and he couldn't keep the red streak from creeping up to his ears.
He knows. Everything. He can't. He can never know.
Dani tried to be coy, gave him her best Daddy's girl smile. "Knew you wouldn't let me just come home." She batted her eyelashes. Realized how silly that must look with mascara running down her cheeks.
Daddy's eyes narrowed slightly as Teddy Bear looked back and forth between them. She straightened to her full height, trying not to wobble.
"I'm not a little girl." She felt like a little girl. She continued rapid-fire to keep from slurring. "I'm-an-adult-graduate-in-two-months-work-hard-I-can-make-my-own-decisions. And another thing, I'm—"
"Right."
Dani stopped cold, cocked her head.
Daddy swallowed hard, stroking gray stubble. She'd never seen him with stubble. Or gray. He repeated himself, barely above a whisper. Even so, his voice broke, only the second time she'd ever seen him cry.
***
Later that morning, Vic sat slack-jawed across the desk from his father.
"You can't be serious?"
Dad spoke slowly between slurps of coffee. "Mind's made up."
He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
Vic let it all sink in. He knew the books inside and out. Giving Dani that much cash would clear him out. Even keeping the business operating would be dicey.
"Might mean running it ourselves when she graduates." Dad droned on about how things would go forward, his tone matter-of-fact.
Vic weighed asking him to just sell the whole company. Let Dani chase whatever crazy ideas she has if he doesn't have the heart to do the right thing and tell her no, but at least give me my half, too. A generous offer from Ed Wilkins waited in Vic's desk. He hadn't taken it seriously at the time. Hadn't even told Dad about it. But half of it would be enough to keep him on the mission field for a decade. He wouldn't even need to itinerate.
Dad tried to keep the pained look off his face. Dumb as it was to give in to her, Vic knew it had to be killing him to see Dani wasting her brains and talent on this half-baked rock 'n roll band. He glanced at the Missionary Society material laying on top in his open file cabinet. Worlds of possibility.
Setting his jaw, Vic closed the drawer. Laid his head in his hands. Shut his eyes. Massaged his temples.
"I need some time to pray about all this."
***
"I'll never do that again." Dani huddled in the quietest corner of the cafeteria with Shelly. Shelly's makeup was perfect, her hair flawless, spritzed to add eight inches to her height. Dani, still wearing yesterday's jeans, had barely managed to run a brush through hers this morning.
"You'll have a hard time keeping him if you don't."
Can't lose him. Not now.
"Alcohol," Dani said. "I meant alcohol."
"Everyone says that the first time. Did you get in trouble?"
"My dad acted like he didn't even know." She knew better. She knew it was silly, but Dani couldn't help feeling like the whole crowd milling around knew. Like the whole world looked at her differently.
Like they're not all doing it. At least, to hear them tell it.
She looked at herself differently. Closing her eyes, she tried to pretend it hadn't happened. Couldn't.
"I'm not going to lose Jon." She fingered the purity ring, still in her pocket. "Maybe too late for the whole love waits thing, but I can still keep myself to one true love."
Whatever it takes.
"Doesn't always work that way." Shelly dabbed tears.
A thousand needles poked at Dani's cheeks. "Bobby said he'd call."
"Guys say lots of things."
***
That night, Vic stood in the middle of the sidewalk wearing a baseball cap pulled low. He never wore hats. He spent way too long looking back and forth from the establishment's door to their sign. Hooligan's Pub. The marquee advertised live bands every weekend and fifty cent drafts on weeknights. He jingled the change in his pocket. Wonder if a draft is different from other beers? Or is it even beer?
People started to crowd the sidewalk, brushing past. A few walked into the bar. Not wanting anyone to recognize him standing outside, he hunched his shoulders and walked in, finding a table in the corner furthest from the door.
The place was empty except for a small group at the far end of the bar, all men with close-cropped hair. Military, maybe? Nah, some of them are too old for that. Whatever they were, they were yucking it up, swapping stories and slaps on the back.
"Cheeseburger," Vic said before the shapely waitress could get to him. He'd heard bars have the best burgers. "And a draft."
"Bud? Mick?"
Who?
"Corona?"
He'd seen that on a T-shirt once. "Whatever they're having," he said, nodding toward the backslappers.
Two hours later, he hadn't moved. He'd decided to leave twice, glad he hadn't seen anyone who might recognize him, then the door opened, and Julie stepped in and waved to the backslappers, who had added half a dozen to their crowd since Vic had been watching. That settled it. He motioned to the waitress subtly, hoping to pay his tab and get out.
Too late. Julie saw.
***
If Dani could have dissolved into the floor, she would have. She couldn't believe he'd do that. The first thing Jon said, in front of the whole band, when he saw her at rehearsal:
"How's it feel to be a woman?"
He smiled like it was no big deal.
Have I become an inside joke?
Dani strapped on her guitar, eager to avoid conversation. Cal averted his eyes as she struggled through the most basic chord changes.
"Can we try to get it right, princess?" Bobby was a six-pack in when Dani had arrived. He'd turned into liquid mouth.
Dani bit her lip, eyes on the floor. She felt heat creep up the back of her neck into her cheeks, knew they were morphing from embarrassed pink to deep fury red.
Bobby rolled his eyes, throwing an exaggerated whisper Jon's direction. "That's why we don't fool around with the help."
"That's enough." Jon stepped between them, finger thrust in his best friend's face.
"Basil's gonna be here any minute. Want him hearing us play like this?" Bobby pushed Jon's hand away, glaring at the others. "Somebody please tell him groupies are for after the show."
Dani couldn't make eye contact with him. She let her guitar hang from its strap and dropped her eyes, balling her fists.
Bobby shut up.
"Wasn't for her, you wouldn't even be in the show," Cal said.
Marc hit a rimshot-splash combo in an ill-advised attempt to lighten the mood.
Jon would later claim the only reason he hadn't hit Bobby was because Tom Basil arrived.
Before the door slammed, Basil started talking. "Wish you had that equipment I've been telling you to buy. You'll never believe who I could be booking you with right now."
"Told you, there's no way we can come up with that kind of money," Jon said, slumping against the amps.
"Actually…" Dani bit her lip, thanking God for the change of subject as she pulled the folded check Daddy had given her from her jeans pocket.
Basil did a double take, eyes as big as compact discs.
"Couldn't believe it myself," Dani said.
"It's a start," Basil said. "Sure it won't bounce?"