She smiled a wicked smile. “How nice. You want to marry me on my birthday.”
She smiled so broadly and said, “He’s down in the office. Let’s go see him.” We went down to the lowest level of the house, where he kept his desk right outside what used to be my bedroom. As we went into the room, my mother said, “Garl, the kids have something to talk to us about.”
He said, his face still pressed against his papers, “We need wine to celebrate…We need to call your grandmother…Oh, Christ, son, I thought you were just going to tell me she was pregnant. This is so much a better thing to process.
I said, laughing, “Dad, you are an idiot.”
“I like to think of myself as a good kind of idiot though.”