She dreaded lunch with her father. She dreaded seeing any of her old friends, really. She hated the way they would kid about the "lovebirds" and then inquire how she was enjoying newlywed life. She hated smiling a fake smile and telling them what they wanted to hear.

The truth was, she was miserable. Every little thing he did was starting to grate on her to the point where even the sound of his voice was like nails on chalkboard.

Woody seemed happy enough. He was patient and caring and as in love with her as he had ever been. Her emotions, on the other hand, ran from frustrated to guilty to just plain angry.

Mostly, she felt lost and bewildered. She had convinced herself this was all part of the period of adjustment. But what if her feelings weren't normal? What if they had made a horrible mistake?

She put on a smile as she entered the restaurant for her weekly lunch date with her father. He had returned to town for Jordan's wedding that spring and had never left. Things were still strained between them, but they were trying. These weekly lunches were a way to reconnect, and it was working. She was learning to trust him again, and they found they actually enjoyed being in one another's company.

Max was already there when she entered, and she crossed to the table and kissed him lightly.

"Hey, sweetheart! How are you? Am I a grandfather yet?"

"Dad, please..."

"Just asking! Just asking! But, you know, neither one of us is getting any younger..."

"Dad, stop, all right?" she snapped.

It was how they started every conversation, and the baby banter was usually good-natured, but he knew from her voice that something was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Jordan." She didn't respond but stared down at her menu. He started to babble breezily to change the subject, but her mood never seemed to lift.

Finally, he touched her hand and asked, "Everything okay?"

"Everything's great, dad."

"How's married life?"

She poked casually at her salad. "Fine. Great." She looked down and exhaled. "Not so great." She buried her face in her hands for a moment.

"What's wrong, Jordan?"

"Ahhhh. I don't know. Nothing. Everything."

"Talk to me."

"I'm supposed to be in love, right? We're newlyweds. The whole first year is supposed to be one big honeymoon. Why is it I can barely stand the sight of him? Why is it that everything he does drives me insane?" It was not the kind of thing she would usually talk to her father about, but the floodgates had been opened, and it spilled out of her.

"First of all, things rarely go the way they're 'supposed' to go. Second of all, where did you get the idea the first year is supposed to be one big honeymoon? What cheap dime store romance novel have you been reading? And third of all, my guess is you're not going through anything that all newlywed couples don't go through."

She shook her head. "I don't know, dad. What if it's not that? It's just all happening so fast. Suddenly, I'm this housewife, and I don't' recognize myself anymore. I mean, what if we rushed into things? What if I was looking for something that just isn't there?"

Max sighed heavily. "You and Woody weren't exactly starry-eyed kids when you got married. You were adults. I gave you away on your wedding day, remember, Jordan Marie? You were clear-eyed and sure of yourself. Nothing's changed. Not really."

"But..."

"But nothing. I know your mother and I weren't able to give you a very good model, but we had good times in the beginning. Before she got sick. Marriage isn't all moonlight and roses, let me tell you. It's hard work. It's about give and take. It's about commitment. It's about thinking of someone besides yourself. You want my advice? Go home. Go home to your husband and count your blessings. If the biggest problem you have in your married life is whether or not your husband leaves the toilet seat up, then be grateful."

He looked away, and Jordan knew he was thinking about her mother.

"When things got bad with mom..." she started quietly. "Did you ever consider leaving her?"

"Divorce was not an option."

"Because of the Church."

He shook his head emphatically. "No. Being Catholic had nothing to do with it. I didn't leave your mother because I loved her. Because I took a vow in front of God and our families to love her forever, for better for worse. I wasn't going to tuck tail and run when things got bad. What kind of man would I be? I loved her."

The waiter dropped the check on the table, and Max snatched it up.

"Dad, I got it."

"No, no. I'm still your father, and I can take my own daughter out to lunch, can't I?"

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek as she rose from the table. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. Now go home."