Audrey’s rock and roll vibe extends to her bedroom where the walls are covered with band posters and classic vinyl records. I spot all the predictable names like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, and of course, the Ramones. I’m surprised to see a Frank Zappa poster on the back of her door since the weirdo artist seems a bit outside what her father would listen to with his daughter.

“Who drew that?” I ask, gesturing toward a black and white sketch of Audrey.

“Rando during her art phase. That was before her nature phase which led to her animal phase.”

“Is rock music your phase?”

Audrey sits on her full-sized bed and shrugs. “I got into music when Pop and I would listen to rock while fixing my El Camino.”

“You look like your mom and act like your dad. An even split between her good looks and his big mouth.”

I assume Audrey knows I’m teasing her. My smile ought to make that fucking obvious, but she gets a dark frown on her perfect pouty lips.

“Why are you pushing Pop’s buttons so much? Do you not like him?”

Sitting next to her on the bed, I can’t imagine sleeping in something so small. As soon as I was out of my crib, Mom set up a king-size mattress on the floor of my bedroom. I swear Audrey could fit in my old baby bed if she curled her legs. Is Pip tinier than I remember? Or have I grown since we were together in White Horse?

“He’s a decent man,” I say and take her tiny hand in my massive one, “especially for a thug. I respect what your grandfather built in Ellsberg and how your father expanded on it. That’s all good, but I have to give him shit. That’s how fuckers like us deal with each other.”

“But you’re stressing him out more than is necessary.”

“Do you really believe he’d be chilling if I weren’t pushing his buttons?”

Audrey pulls her hand out of mine. “No, but it’s difficult for Pop and Mom to accept my leaving. They were okay with Lily’s fiancé until he started talking about wanting to move to Boston. After that, they changed around him. Pop always looked like someone just farted when Jay was around. I don’t know if their behavior affected Lily enough for her to end the engagement. I just know they got their way without saying a word.”

“If only they were so subtle with me.”

“Don’t be a little bitch,” she growls in her best Johansson growl.

Laughing, I tap her perfect little nose. “Boop.”

Audrey refuses to laugh. “My family means a lot to me.”

“Not as much as mine means to me.”

Narrowing her gaze, she knows she can’t win in a game of “who’s closer to their family.” Instead, she just grumbles, “It’s not a competition.”

“If it were, I’d win.”

“Stinky Farmer Ted fart.”

“I’d give them up and move here if that’s what you needed,” I say, and she flinches as if my words slap her out of her bad mood. “It’d kill me, and I’d secretly resent you until the day I died, but I’d do it because your happiness matters more than mine.”

Audrey doesn’t speak for a really fucking long thirty seconds. “Bullshit.”

“Don’t cry,” I say, allowing her an out from the turmoil brewing in her big brown eyes.

“I’m not crying.”

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I have her in my lap before she knows I’ve moved her. “You’re thinking about getting hysterical. Should I find you a tissue?”

“I feel like a kid with you sometimes. Like you’ll stick me in a high chair and feed me soon.”

“Kinky, but I’m not into that level of baby play. Sorry, pumpkin,” I murmur and kiss her throat. “I fell for a bitchy, ass-kicker, not a helpless infant.”

Fighting a moan, she whispers, “I don’t feel like an ass-kicker. I’m really nervous about moving. What if I hate living there?”

“Then you’ll come back here, and we figure out how to make shit work.”

Audrey blinks a few times as if she might actually cry. “It’ll be embarrassing to make this big move only to come crawling back.”

“Then don’t crawl, Audrey. You strut back to Ellsberg with your head held high and say you found Tennessee to be a shithole.”

A smile slowly forms on her pouty lips. “You really see the world as that uncomplicated.”

“Life for people like us isn’t complicated at all. You make a decision and live with the consequence. That’s it. If you fail, you fucking fail. Shit happens to everyone. Our fathers didn’t build their businesses without fucking up. Our parents didn’t fall in love and stay together all these years without making astonishingly bad choices. They just dealt with the fallout from their bullshit and kept going. That’s all I’m asking you to do with me. Succeed or fail, just keep moving forward.”

Audrey rests her head on my shoulder and exhales all of her worries until she’s completely relaxed in my arms. I’m always surprised by how uneasy she is in her own skin. Her father is a badass, and she lived a charmed life. We grew up with the same luxuries, yet I wear my choices—good and bad—as a badge of fucking honor. Audrey, though, second-guesses even her best decisions.

Holding her, I realize she’s third-generation badass. Her grandfather came from nothing and built something. Her father took that something and expanded it. Whatever she accomplishes must feel insignificant in the wake of their successes. Crap, is this what our children will face one day?