The Truth About Faking

that with his big reveal. It’s just… this other friend. He didn’t get so lucky.”
    Dad frowns, but I don’t have time to get into it with him now. I have something else on my mind.
    “Would you mind if I rode my bike for a few minutes? Just around the neighborhood?”
    He’s still serious. “It’s a little late, honey. And cars don’t always expect bikes at this hour.”
    “I won’t leave the neighborhood. I just need to clear my head.”
    He glances at the clock and hesitates.
    “I’ll be careful,” I say. “And honestly, I won’t be gone more than just a little bit.”
    “Don’t leave the neighborhood,” he says.
    I nod and start to leave, but then I stop. “Hey, Dad?”
    He looks up at me again. “Yeah?”
    I study the door frame, running my fingernail down one of the lines in the wood. “How did you know… I mean, when you met Mom. How did you know she was The One?”
    Concern crosses his face, and he sits forward in his chair. “Well, for starters, we were both adults, Harley. College graduates.”
    “I know. But I was just wondering, like if God told you or something. Or like if there was some sign.”
    He smiles. “Your mother’s very beautiful and she liked me, so that was a big neon sign when I first met her.”
    “C’mon, Dad, you know what I mean. Did you like, maybe have a dream about her? Or maybe you read a scripture or you made a list or something?”
    He gets serious again. “I met your mom when we were undergrads, and we liked each other very much,” he says. “Then we graduated and I left for seminary.”
    “Right…”
    “I was gone several years, but when I came back and saw her again and we could still talk and our interests had converged rather than grown apart,” he pauses. “We had found ourselves first, what we wanted to do with our lives and who God wanted us to be. And then we were able to find each other.”
    I look back at the lines in the wood, thinking about his words.
    “Why are you asking me this, Harley?”
    I shake my head. “I just had this thing. It’s really stupid. I thought God had brought someone here, this guy, just for me. But I was wrong.”
    Dad’s face grows thoughtful, and he picks up his pencil. “You know, God can bring people into our lives for reasons other than romance.”
    I glance back at his blue eyes, then I looked up at his blonde hair and feel like such a dork. Of course nine-year-old me made a list describing my Dad. He was the only example of an ideal husband I knew.
    I smile and step forward to kiss his cheek. “You know, you’re really good at your job.”
    “You’d better scoot. And don’t be gone long.”
    “OK,” I say as I dash out the door.
     
    In less than five minutes I’m approaching Jason’s house, but when I see the place, I almost lose my nerve and keep riding. It’s huge, with a big stone entrance and bronze lanterns hanging at the door with real flames. I feel like I’m walking up to a small castle. And it takes me a few seconds to find the doorbell.
    This is a mistake , I think as the door starts to open. Then right in front of me appears what has to be Jason’s dad. He looks a lot like Jason, only with little lines around his eyes and gray hair at his temples.
    “Hey,” he says in the same casual-friendly manner as his son. “Are you from the school? Jason didn’t tell me he was expecting—”
    “Oh, no,” I shake my head. My whole body is trembling for some reason. “I mean, I’m sorry. He isn’t expecting… I mean, I’m Harley.”
    I try to smile and appear normal despite my completely psychotic behavior meeting him for the first time. I hope he can’t see me shaking.
    He smiles and opens the door a little wider. “I think he’s mentioned you,” he says. “Come in?”
    My cheeks feel hot at the idea of Jason discussing me with his dad. “Oh, no,” I say, looking down then shoving my hair behind my ear. “I was just thinking,” I swallow a hard lump in my chest and try to get a grip. “Maybe I’ll just come back another time.”
    I turn to leave when I hear Jason’s voice from just inside the house. “Hey, Dad,” he says. “It’s okay, I got it.”
    I glance back and see Mr. James smile at his son. “It was nice meeting you, Harley,” he says as he leaves the doorway and goes inside again. I nod, still moving away, toward the drive. Jason takes a step toward me and closes the door behind him.
    “What’re you doing here?”
    Seeing him melts all the