The call finally came on a Tuesday evening as I was leaving the Secure Pay office. Seeing my father’s name on the screen sent a familiar flutter of anxiety through my chest.
“Hello, Dad,” I answered, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Harper,” he acknowledged in his typical business-like tone. “We received your graduation invitation.”
“Yes,” I said, waiting for the congratulations or excitement that never came. “I hope you can make it.”
There was a pause, and I heard my mother’s voice in the background asking who was calling.
“It is Harper,” my father replied to her before returning to our conversation about the graduation. “We have a conflict that weekend.”
My heart sank. “What kind of conflict?”
“Cassandra has her high school graduation the same week, and we have several celebration activities planned. The timing is just not going to work for us to drive up to Cambridge.”
I swallowed hard. “Her high school graduation is on Thursday. Mine is on Saturday. You could attend both.”
“Well, we are also taking her on a shopping trip to New York that weekend as part of her graduation gift. The plans have been set for months.”
I gripped my phone tighter. “I sent the invitations as soon as they were available. This is my Harvard graduation, Dad. It is kind of a big deal.”
“Of course it is,” he said, his tone softening marginally. “And we are very proud of you. You have always been self-sufficient. I am sure you will be fine handling this on your own, too.”
That was when he delivered the line that would stick with me forever.
“You will have to take the bus to your ceremony. We are buying your sister a Bentley for her graduation present.”
I nearly dropped my phone.
“A Bentley? She is 18 years old.”
