Despite her frequent questioning, Joel managed to get Janie through dinner relatively painlessly. He thought that if his mood hadn’t been quite as bad she would have pressed further. As it was, he had a tension headache from holding his irritation in all night.

Janie had disappeared with her slice of cake to her bedroom as soon as the dishes were washed and he’d excused her. He would have felt bad about being so rude to her all night if there was any room left in him for any more emotions.

As it was, Nick’s words had burst a dam inside of him and he didn’t have any empty space. Every nook and cranny in his thoughts, between his ribs, under and above his organs was filled with deafening pain.

He was drowning in it.

Joel put away the last of the clean dishes and carefully wrapped the cake in plastic wrap before placing it in the fridge. A vindictive part of him wanted to throw it on the floor, watch the kind gesture smash and break against the wood. It would be satisfying for half a second. But then Janie would be upset and he’d have to get on his hands and knees to clean and, really, it wouldn’t be worth it at all. It almost felt like it would be, though.

Joel grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to the couch, flicking the lights off as he went. He turned the T.V. on, keeping the volume almost all the way off, and let the game play absently in the background of his evening. He didn’t even know who was playing. It wasn’t like it mattered.

Nick’s words rang in his ears, angry and sharp. They were razor blades underneath his skin, digging in deep and he would just cut his hands if he tried to dig them out.

Joel placed his feet flat on the floor and let his head fall between his knees, breathing deeply. The nearly empty beer hung from between his forefinger and thumb by the neck.

He missed Angela.

He missed the way she would have been rubbing his back, reminding him that he wasn't alone. He missed the way she would have had a sharp retort for Nick, always a half step ahead in every conversation she had. The way she laughed and the smooth line of her neck.

He was used to missing Angela. He missed her every day, every time he wished he had a partner for raising Janie and every time he thought of something he would have wanted to tell her. That was a dull ache he had grown used to, almost comforted by, in the last five years.

But tonight, he missed not being alone. He wasn’t used to that.

Nick’s words were a phantom punch, each time he thought of them the air rushing from his lungs. But at the same time, the idea of Nick’s hands raised goosebumps over his arms and the memory of his lips made Joel groan with loneliness so profound, he wondered how he hadn’t felt it before.

Joel wanted to hate Nick.

He almost did.

But mostly, he really didn’t.

He didn’t know how he felt about Nick. It was—complicated. He barely knew him. But in another way, Joel thought he might have known him better than he’d known anyone else in years. He knew that Nick liked his coffee black and that he’d lost his dad and loved his job and was searching for something in his life that he couldn't name, let alone find. And Joel knew that Nick was kind and generous and cared for his daughter an inordinate amount and that his daughter cared for Nick right back.

He knew that Nick made him feel bigger and louder than he could ever remember feeling.

He hadn’t—what had it been that Nick had said? Thought of every good thing in his life as an affront on Angela’s memory? He didn’t do that. He didn’t. Joel had plenty of good things in his life. He had his business and his house and his daughter and—

Well, he had those things. And it was a good life. It was a good life that he and Angela had built and, sure, sometimes it was a little empty. He could admit that. And he could admit that the last few days, with Nick slipping through the rooms and through their lives, things had felt—fuller. More. Brighter.

But that didn’t mean his life was bad and it didn’t mean he was afraid to let things in now that Angela was gone.

Although, a small part of Joel rallied, aren’t you?

Joel’s lifted his head, feeling the blood rush down his neck as he pushed himself up. He downed the last of his beer and tossed it into the recycling, grabbing. second one for himself and going back to the couch. He yanked the throw blanket off the back and covered himself up.

Joel was a rational man. He was proud of his ability to separate himself from the situation, to look at things with a discerning eye. It was what made him so good at his job. It was what he thought made him a good father, able to more clearly see things from Janie’s perspective most of the time. It was what made him, him.

But if he was being rational about Nick—

There was no rational solution to Nick. Be with him, and risk everything. Push him away, and never see what could’ve been.

Because the truth was, as hard a pill as it was to swallow, Nick was right.

Joel’s life wasn’t perfect but it was his and he wasn’t willing to risk the good, stable life he’d built for Janie. After Angela—it was everything they could do to piece themselves back together. He didn’t have the luxury of pretending like they were on a sturdy enough foundation to lose a leg and still be standing.

Any amount of room for Nick would risk their clumsy, fragile lives. And Joel didn’t need Angela here to know the reason that Joel pushed him away, time and time again, was that he was afraid.

He was afraid and there wasn’t a single rational way to deal with that at all.

He felt like a doll made from thin yarn. He could feel the pieces of himself start to unravel and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was absolutely terrified to see what would happen if a piece of him started to go.

Joel shot up when he heard Janie’s door creak open. He sat his second half empty beer on the coffee table and pretended to be paying attention to the game on the screen. At least he knew it was baseball.

Janie was drowning in a nightgown two sizes too big for her. He had no idea where she’d gotten the blue monstrosity but she looked adorable drowning in it.

Her hair was braided in two plaits and she padded over to him, climbing onto the couch and resting her head on his shoulder.

Moments like these were rarer and rare as Janie got older. He didn’t know the last time his little girl and crawled near him for a snuggle. He wound an arm around her and tried not to fall deeper into devastation at the thought that it might be the last time.

“Dad,” Janie said after a half-inning. Her voice was a rumble against his arm. He glanced down at her, only seeing the zigzag part of her hair, her face still turned towards the TV.

He sighed, as if put out even though despite watching the entire half-inning, he had no idea who was winning. “Yes, we can watch something else.”

“No, no,” Janie sat up and slapped at his hand when he reached for the remote.

Joel’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Okay,” he said slowly. She was chewing on her bottom lip and twirling her thumbs. It was almost so innocent he didn’t buy it. “What is it, Jane?”

“I just—” she huffed in frustration. He pursed his lips and waited for her to gather her thoughts. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Please not boys. “Okay.”

“About someone,” she corrected.

Please not Nick. “Okay.”

“I wanted to talk about Mom.”

He was going to have to buy an inhaler if he kept having weeks like this one. He really needed much more air than his lungs seemed willing to keep in. Quieter, he said, “Okay.”

Janie frowned down at her lap. Joel didn’t know if he was the one who was supposed to start, or if Janie had something in particular in mind, or if she wanted his guiding or—

They didn’t talk about Angela an awful lot. He wasn’t sure whose benefit that was for.

“I talked to Nick about her,” Janie whispered. Her voice was quiet, reverent, and Joel couldn’t help but mimic the tone.

“I know.”

She looked up at that. “He told me—he doesn’t have a dad.” Janie frowned again. “I can’t imagine not having you.”

Tears burned his eyes and he regretted having drank. He didn’t do it often and even a beer and a half in, he felt like his wallowing was going to make him closer to crying tonight than Janie would like. “You won’t ever not have me, Janie.”

Janie smiled, too sad for her small face. “You can’t promise that. But thanks anyway.”

Watch me, he thought, pulling her to him and hugging her tightly. The devil himself would have to pry his dead body away from Janie and even then, he thought he could be a pretty kickass ghost dad.

Janie pulled back and cleared her throat. “Anyway, it’s just.” She took a deep breath and tried again. “It’s just that, I don’t know. Nick was right when he said it’s okay if we want to be sad, but we shouldn’t just, like, always be sad, you know?”

If nothing else, Joel was always going to be grateful to Nick for how he helped his Janie.

“That’s a very good point,” Joel said gently. “I’m glad you feel like that.”

Janie shook her head. “No. I mean, yes. I do. But you need to.”

Joel frowned. “I don’t follow.”

Janie huffed and Joel nearly smiled at that little burst of exasperation. “I mean you can be sad about Mom, you know, if you want. But not only sad.”

Joel froze. His eyes widened and he slowly, slowly thawed. “What?”

“You don’t ever do anything or like anyone or anything,” Janie said in a rush, eyes wide as if she was afraid he would stop her from talking. “And I get that because the people here kind of suck and there’s a lot of stuff to do but you’re, like, old and not really into climbing and stuff—”

“I’m not old, Janie!”

“You totally are. But anyway, I get it. But with Nick you seemed kind of…” she trailed off and looked up.

Joel’s heart was in his throat. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “Janie, you know Nick and I—we aren’t—he doesn’t live here, sweetie, and we’re not—” Joel didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He settled on, “Anything.”

Janie pulled back and rolled her eyes. “Yes, you are.” He opened his mouth to reply and she cut him off. “Dad, no. It’s—Mom, right?”

Confused, Joel nodded.

“Mom’s always going to be Mom,” Janie said. “So, you’re not replacing her by liking someone else. And she’d want you to be happy. She’d want us both to be really happy and it’s not fair to her to pretend like she wouldn’t. You couldn’t replace her, Dad. Because no one else will ever be Mom and I think we’d both kill them before they even tried.”

Joel laughed despite himself. “How did you get so smart?”

Janie preened and shrugged in false modesty. “I’m twelve, Dad. Almost thirteen.”

Joel swallowed this laugh, knowing Janie would not appreciate it. He nodded as if his words were sage and wise. “Ah, yes. How silly of me to forget.”

Janie giggled and even though she was twelve, almost thirteen, let him pull her into a tight hug. He held onto her a few seconds longer than she would normally let him and he couldn’t remember another time he was as grateful for her as he was then.

She eventually squirmed away, whining out Dad as if it took three times as many syllables to say, and scrunched her nose at him in a fake glare when she was on her feet, tiny fists on her hips. She poked a finger at him. “Don’t squish me.”

Joel felt his chest rumble with humor. “Yes, ma’am.”

She jutted her finger out one more time for good measure and then turned on her heel. She made it to the doorway before hesitating, putting one hand on the wall and barely shifting her head out look back at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“And Dad?”

“Yes?” He asked.

“You know, I like Nick. In case you were wondering.” She let go of the wall and skipped down the hall. “Goodnight, Dad!”

“Night, Janie,” he called after her, shaking his head.

She was a firecracker and a hurricane but she was also the sweetest little girl on the planet. Where an hour ago Joel had felt the worst he had in years, he felt calm now.

He was always going to worry about Janie. She would always be his priority, his life. But maybe it was time Joel realized his little girl wasn’t quite as little as he thought she was. Maybe it was time he stopped trying so hard to keep things stable for her that he didn’t let them move or grow at all.

Maybe it was time to focus on what Angela would have wanted for him, instead of what Angela’s death had taken away.

Maybe it was time Joel let himself go, just a little bit.