“Grant sounds boring.”
“He was actually very fun at parties.”
“That is not defense.”
Jake’s phone rang.
Avery.
He answered.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why call?”
“You said you’d be home at eight.”
Jake checked time.
8:23.
Damn.
“Sorry.”
Sophia saw his face.
Jake said:
“I lost track.”
Avery went quiet.
That hurt.
“Leah there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay.”
Jake hung up.
Sophia stood.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Yes, but—”
“No.”
Jake packed tools quickly.
“I promised.”
“That’s mine.”
Sophia nodded.
“I’ll go.”
Jake looked at her.
“You don’t have to.”
“I think you do.”
She kissed his cheek.
First physical contact beyond a hug.
Jake froze.
Sophia smiled softly.
“Go be Dad.”
He did.
At home, Avery sat on couch with Leah.
Not angry exactly.
Leah left after one look at Jake that said handle this.
Jake sat beside daughter.
“I’m sorry.”
“You forgot.”
“Yes.”
“You never forget.”
“That isn’t true.”
“You forgot picture day.”
“Once.”
“And permission slip.”
“Okay.”
Avery stared at television.
Jake turned it off.
“Avery.”
She looked.
Her eyes were wet.
That surprised him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“No.”
He waited.
Finally:
“You like her.”
Jake’s chest tightened.
“Yes.”
Avery looked down.
“What if you like her more than me?”
There it was.
The fear underneath encouragement.
Jake moved closer.
“That cannot happen.”
“You don’t know.”
“I do.”
“You loved Mom.”
“Yes.”
“And then…”
She stopped.
Jake understood.
Death had taught Avery love did not guarantee permanence.
Now she was trying to anticipate replacement before it could happen.
Jake took her hands.
“Liking Sophia doesn’t subtract anything from you.”
“Or Mom.”
Avery’s lip trembled.
“What if you marry her?”
Jake almost laughed from surprise but stopped.
“We have had three dates.”
“What if?”
“Then you’re still my daughter.”
“What if she doesn’t want me?”