“Are you okay, Dad?”

I wince as I ask. I know that I’ve asked the same question a million times. I can’t seem to stop myself. He seems so despondent. He made it back from the next county over almost behind me and Black. I held his hand—while Black stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder. We watched the home disappear into the flames, we watched the firemen do their jobs and go above and beyond. We did all that together, in silence. But, in the end there was nothing but rubble. The house was a complete loss. I don’t think I’d ever seen a home go that quickly.

Afterwards, Black tried to get me—and Dad—to go back to the Lucas farm to stay. I wanted to. I wanted to even after Dad turned him down, and there’s a part of me that felt really guilty for that. In the end, Dad drove us to a hotel outside of Mason and we’re here. We’re here in a huge suite that seems to echo when we move and we’re not really talking. I’ve had a shower. Dad’s had a shower. He ordered room service but neither of us ate much. I wanted to change clothes, but then I remembered…

I don’t have any.

I cried for a little while over that, alone in my room of the hotel, then I put on a robe and sent my clothes down to the laundry. Dad had a suitcase with him, so he’s in casual clothes that are clean. Still, for some weird reason, I can smell the smoke. I can smell it in this clean room. It’s as if it’s haunting me. My eyes are itchy and dry from the smoke and the crying and just whatever else. I don’t know anymore. I don’t even know why I’m being so emotional. That house wasn’t my house. It wasn’t the house of my memories and it didn’t mean much to me. Losing my mom’s pictures and the keepsakes, that’s what’s killing me inside. I don’t know about Dad. He lost those things and his new home—the home he chose to start over in. Maybe that’s why the sadness is killing me inside. I may have resented him moving without telling me. I may have felt left out and hurt by him for the way he handled matters—but, I wanted him to be happy again. I wanted him to have his fresh start.

“I’m okay, Princess,” he says, sounding distracted.

“Can I get you something? You didn’t eat much. Maybe I can—”

“I’m fine, Addie-girl. It was just a house. I just hate that most of your Mom’s pictures and things were in there.”

“Most?” I ask, a small beacon of hope beginning to form inside of me.

“There’s still more in storage. I haven’t had time to move everything. What was in the house were some of my favorites, but not all.”

“That’s wonderful!” I almost squeal.

“It is. We’ll be okay, sweetheart. I just need to regroup. I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow and a realtor. We’re going to need a new place to live and soon.”

I flop down on the sofa across from the table where Dad is. It’s probably a horrible time to bring it up, but I might as well—if I don’t, I’ll lose my nerve.

“Dad… I’ve been thinking… I kind of want to get my own place.”

“In Houston or Dallas? I know you got a second interview with that restaurant.”

“Oh,” I kind of blush. I haven’t talked with Black about my interview. Though, to be fair until earlier today he and I weren’t exactly talking. If things had played out right, we’d have done a lot more than talk by now. I’m still nursing that disappointment too. “I was thinking here in Mason. I like this place…”

“You like that Lucas boy,” he says shaking his head, though I think he smiles a little.

“I don’t think you can call Black a boy at this point.”

“He’s younger than me and he’s trying to get in my daughter’s pants. I can call him boy.”

“Fair enough,” I mutter, avoiding my dad’s eyes. I mean, what can I say to that? I can’t really admit that his daughter wants Black to get in her pants.

Even if I do.

“You can’t move into the apartments on North street,” he says adamantly.

“Dad—”

“I mean it. There’s a drug problem there that we’re trying to clean up. I won’t have my daughter living there.”

“Well until I get a job, that may be all I can afford.”

“We have money, Addie—”

“You have money. I’m living off what I squirreled away working in France.”

“Addie—”

“You’re not going to change my mind, Dad. This is something I need to do and I’m way too old to be still living off of my old man.”

He looks at me for a minute and it’s clear he’s unhappy. The urge to give in is there, but I don’t. He finally shakes his head.

“You’re stubborn just like your mother. Determined to do everything on your own,” he grumbles.

“I am, but if you wanted to buy me some clothes as a housewarming gift, that I wouldn’t turn down,” I try and joke.

I’ve just reminded him of our losses and the fire and I see it the minute his face changes. He pulls me into his arms and he holds me tight. I burrow my head down on his chest and hug him back. There’s nothing quite like a hug from your dad, even when you’re a grown woman.

“I’m so glad you weren’t in that house, Addie. I could have lost you tonight. I was so scared when they called that you were there. I couldn’t have gone on without you,” he says, his voice shuddering with emotion and anguish.

“I’m okay, Dad.”

“I love you, Princess,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

“I love you, too.”

I close my eyes and let him hold me. It wasn’t how I imagined ending my evening, but I feel like I’ve somehow reconnected with my father and that was needed even more than I realized.