All four rose from their seats. Dad stepped over to Sasha, whispering in her ear, while the other three came over to greet me.
“Afternoon!” Mr. Wilbur gave me a half-hug. Embracing Wilbur was like squeezing a sandbag, not a lot of give with those muscles. He whispered, “Yesterday’s got your dad in a tizzy.”
I nodded up at my advanced calc teacher. “Yeah.”
“Commander.” Mr. Naugle gave me a military salute like always.
A smile broke onto Mr. Hincho’s chiseled face, and he ruffled my hair, adding, “We’ve made your dad angry.”
“Why?” I asked.
Before they responded, Dad interrupted them. “Look at you three with my kid. You’re more like uncles to her than Bollard. You’ve gone to every dance recital, every musical, graduation. You’ve come to dinners, dropped her off after football games. If one of you asked to take Waverly somewhere, I wouldn’t hesitate.” Dad had a point. The three men had become permanent fixtures in my life. They were like uncles—well, uncles I still called by their last names.
“That’s part of her great-uncle’s point, right? Bollard wants to get to know her, and getting to know Waverly is a delight,” Mr. Naugle weighed in.
“Waverly is far from the issue,” Dad said, giving Mr. Naugle a sideways glance.
Hincho spoke up. “The guy‘s loaded. He’s got to be, right? He pays for private nurses for Helena, and he pays for the specialist. I bet he’d set this kiddo up with a bright future.”
The room was silent as Hincho and Naugle turned to Wilbur, waiting for him to say something. “Oh yeah. I would have loved as a kid to have a rich uncle offer me a job,” Mr. Wilbur offered.
Dad’s face reddened, and he kept looking from one to the other, waiting for the punchline.
“Well, I for one think it’s a terrible idea,” Sasha said, hands on her hips. “Not sure what you three are thinking.”
“At least Sasha hasn’t lost her mind.” Dad put his arm over my best friend’s shoulder in solidarity. “I don’t trust him, either. I can feel it in my gut. He’s a real snake in the grass—a total jerk—so no, my daughter will not be going with him.”
“Don’t say that about him. Never say that,” Mr. Hincho added. All three nodded in agreement and stared down my dad in awkward silence. I was witnessing treason in the kitchen. My poor dad.
I had to step in.
“Bollard’s different, but anyways, I’m not really thinking about going,” I told them, settling the matter. Dad took a deep, relaxing breath as I added, “I have a lot planned for summer, and Bollard isn’t anywhere on that list. I do, however, have something to show you.” I fished around in my pocket for the ring, but before I got it out, Grandma shuffled into the room.
All three teachers bowed.
“Your Highness, it is always a pleasure to see you,” Mr. Naugle said.
Grandma’s eyes sparkled at him. “Such a polite young Libratier and one of America’s military finest. Once, long ago, I led an army of Libratiers. Together, we conquered the sea at Beaufort. This was before Queen Mary Laurel completed the southern sweep of the Northern invaders. We beat them to the ships, and they had no choice but to surrender.”
Naugle smiled at Grandma. “By the time I joined the Libratiers, we were in the Heyday of Good Fortune, but my father would tell stories of the Northern Invaders and the defeat of Canada.” Fake military stories were a special talent of my Family Consumer Science Teacher. He never admitted it, but everyone said Mr. Naugle had a military background. To be honest, between the muscles and height, all three teachers resembled special operatives or at the least, pro wrestlers. Naugle continued with his tale, “If it hadn’t been for the royal family, we would have lost America to the North.”
If Dad rolled his eyes any harder, he’d hurt himself. As an American History teacher, he hated the notion of America having a royal family. (‘We fought a war to end that oppression!’) Still, I saw the weight lift from his shoulders.
Sasha mouthed Show him the ring. I shook my head. Not in front of Grandma.
“Is Matthew still yammering on about our princess going to the kingdom?” Grandma asked the teachers.
Mr. Hincho put his arm around Dad’s shoulder. “My friend, you’re missing the bigger picture. You and the missus will finally get some free time. Travel to Europe. You two are constantly in the honeymoon phase. Now imagine that in the city of love.”
“I don’t understand why you’re still on the subject,” Dad said, and he shrugged off Hincho’s arm. “You heard her. She isn’t interested.”
Grandma disagreed with a tsk. “Waverly will go to a ball, and she will see my Lothaire.” She took my hand. “You are so beautiful. So beautiful.”
“I love you,” I said. Sometimes there was nothing else to say.
Dad looked down at his watch and groaned. “Okay, I’m kicking everyone not genetically related out.”
My three teachers all put their hands up in the air in submission. “We’ll see you later,” they called as they left.
Dad squared in on Sasha. “Oh, me too?”
“Trust me, Sasha, I’m doing you a favor.”
“Yeah, right, Mr. Wilson.” She pulled her car keys from her back pocket. “But it’s weird that they were so gung-ho for Waverly to go. I mean, why do they care? And then to defend the guy. What gives?”
“It’s one more weird thing to add to the list,” Dad replied, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I wish today was already over; I have a massive headache
