“I’m sorry, JoJo,” her father finally said.

“I know.”

“I really am. I’m not perfect. I think kids like to think their parents are perfect.”

Joey pulled at the suffocating seat belt. When it snapped back, it was like being strangled. She unfastened the buckle. “Maybe. But your version of not perfect affected us all.”

“I know.” Her father turned down Tina. “I have so many regrets.”

Joey jangled her evil eye charm around in her pocket. “I really don’t get one thing though. Why did you stay with Mom? It almost seems like you had zero…” She didn’t say what she wanted to say to her father.

“You can say it. Self-respect.”

A beeping noise blasted through the car. Her father didn’t demand that Joey refasten her belt.

“Self-respect. Yeah, Dad.”

“Here’s the thing, Joey. We were taught that love is perfect. Love comes in this neat little box. It’s wrapped in this perfect bow. It’s fairy tales and fireworks, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s not my experience with love, Joey. My experience is that love has all these ugly little lumps in it. True love is when you acknowledge the lumps and love someone anyway. It’s when you love someone to the end even if it’s not the way they love you. I will love your mother until the end. And if she can’t forgive me, I’ll have to live with it. But I have hope I can keep on having lumpy love with your mother.”

Her father turned off the ignition. The beeping stopped. Into the quiet, Joey whispered, “What am I supposed to do, Dad?”

Her father opened the car door, careful not to swipe the Total Gym that had been collecting cobwebs in the garage since the eighties. He patted her hand. “Sweetheart, the thing about lumps is that you never get to plan for them.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Joey

Florida
2019

It went so fast. Everyone said it would.

There was the fawning over her. The commentary. Doesn’t she look stunning? Daphne, the rose petals are for the ceremony. You don’t get to scatter them now! Okay, let’s fix the eyelashes. Close your eyes. When you open them, you’re going to see a bride in the mirror!

There were Joey and G appraising their makeup in the mirror. Joey felt the prettiest version of herself, which had been the goal: her makeup a natural glow, with a few fake lashes for just a bit of drama; her hair in a deep side part and relaxed waves she’d done herself; her flowy boho dress with its unusual bell sleeves in Chantilly lace and its neckline a twinge more plunging than she usually veered, with a hand-beaded, zigzag cutout design.

“You’re so beautiful, Joey,” said G.

“Thanks, G,” said Joey. “You’re looking gorgeous yourself!”