“Play music? Whatever for?” he scoffed as though that were the most ridiculous notion he had ever heard. My mom gave a nervous giggle. Jordan stiffened a bit and I gripped his hand under the table, trying to tell him through my fingers to give it up. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with my dad. Not when things were actually going kind of well.
“I play drums in a band and I love it. I think it would be fantastic to do that for a living. To devote my time to something I'm passionate about, not just crunching numbers to help rich people get richer,” Jordan said.
And there it was again. My dad's disapproval. Oh how I missed you.
“Well, the likelihood of making any sort of living as a musician is highly unlikely. And what kind of life does that build for you and your future family? What kind of person willingly brings their children into contact with drugs and sex?” my father spat out. God, he sounded like an idiot. An ignorant idiot at that.
Jordan started dragging his tongue ring across his bottom teeth. He was pissed but trying really hard to rein it in. I closed my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else. “You know, Jordan's mom runs her own chocolate shop. Mom, you love chocolate. Isn't that cool?” I broke in desperately. My dad and Jordan were engaged in some weird macho stare off and I had to stop this before it got really bad.
My mom was equally as nervous so she made a show of being impressed with Mrs. Levitt's shop. She asked Jordan a million questions about the types of chocolates his mother imported. Jordan answered every question patiently and respectfully.
“What time do we have to be at that sorority of yours?” my father asked, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. God, would he ever stop?
“Uh, 6:00, I think,” I told him. My father clicked his tongue.
“I'm not sure why you bother with all of that sorority nonsense. The Greek system is a ridiculous waste of time, wouldn't you agree, Jordan?” My father directed his question at my silent boyfriend. This was a test. And from his set jaw, I knew Jordan was about to fail miserably.
Jordan took a drink of his soda and looked my dad in the eye. “Actually, sir. I'm in a fraternity myself. And while I think a lot of the Greek system can be a bit over the top, you can't deny the sense of community that comes with being in a sorority or fraternity,” he said evenly. Okay, I knew that was just to goad my dad, because Jordan had told me on more than one occasion that he had come to detest the Greek system.
“You're in a fraternity? Oh, well that's interesting,” my mother offered. I thought my dad would keep up about the whole sorority thing, but thankfully, he let it rest. But that didn't mean he was finished with me.
Our dessert had just been served when my dad went in for the kill. “We got your last check in the mail a few days ago. I'm not sure how you think you're going to pay off that credit card bill with the paltry amounts you're sending us. I can tell you one thing, young lady, we will not be bailing you out of this mess. We've bailed you out of enough in your life, and we refuse to do it anymore,” he said curtly. Bailed me out of what? I had always been a model kid. Hell, I wasn't given a choice. My father was seriously deluded.
My face flamed red. I was embarrassed that Jordan had to witness this abject humiliation. I hung my head as though I were five years old again. I hated that I wasn't able to stand up for myself with him. But it was like he zapped any spine I had right out of me.
Jordan lifted our interlaced hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my knuckles. I blinked in shock at his overt display of affection in front of my parents. He put my hand back in my lap and crumbled up his napkin and put it on the table.
“Mr. Ardin, sir, I think you're being entirely unfair. Maysie works her ass off, at the same time she's in a sorority and has a full work load. She does ten times more than most college students. I think you need to recognize what she has done instead of telling her what she hasn't,” Jordan's voice was clipped and angry.
My mouth fell open. So did my mom's. But my dad clenched his teeth and straightened his shoulders. “Excuse me, young man. But who are you to tell me what I can say to my own daughter? And how dare you talk to me with so little respect!” my father hissed out.
Jordan looked down at me and his eyes softened. “You want to know who I am? I'm the guy who's crazy about your daughter. And when you can talk to Maysie with respect, then maybe you'll earn mine.” He leaned over and kissed me gently on the mouth. “I'm sorry, baby,” he whispered before getting to his feet.
“Mr. Ardin, I apologize that this didn't go as well as it could have. But I hope next time I see you, we can spend the time talking about how amazing your daughter is rather than tearing her down.” His eyes bore into my father's and not once did he back down. Damn, I loved him. He turned to my mother. “Mrs. Ardin, it was a pleasure.” Looking at me again, he smiled. “I'll call you later,” he said quietly. Then he picked up his helmet from under the table and left.
When Jordan was gone, my father sputtered and fumed. He went on and on about how disrespectful Jordan had been. My father didn't want me to have anything to do with him. That if that was the sort of person I chose to spend my time with, then I couldn't be trusted to make reasonable decisions and maybe college wasn't the place for me.
My mom had finally come to my defense and told my father to settle down. I was more than a little surprised by that. But I knew for all of his shocking exterior, Jordan had charmed my mother.
After lunch, I took my parents down town and they spent the afternoon going into the different shops. By the time we had to head over to the Chi Delta house, my father had simmered down and was his normal, unpleasant self.
My dad had hated every minute of being at the sorority, but had dialed down his outright distaste. I had dreaded going there. But all of the sisters were on their best behavior. Not one nasty look was lobbed my way and several of them made a point to speak to my parents. Gracie was her perky, wonderful self and my dad actually liked her. By the time we left, my father had three glasses of wine and a belly full of pulled pork and potato salad. So he was feeling less combative. When they dropped me back off at my apartment, we agreed to meet in the morning for breakfast. My dad patted my back and told me goodnight. Nothing more, nothing less. Though I was just thankful he hadn't used the opportunity to make any last personal digs.
My mom gave me a hug. “I like Jordan. I think you did well, Maysie,” she whispered quietly before pulling away. I couldn't help but grin.
“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered back. She kissed my cheek as I pulled back from her open window. I waved as they drove off. And despite the awfulness of the day I felt warm at the memory of Jordan telling my dad he was crazy about me. Yeah, I was one lucky gal.