15. Clover

"So this is the construction site, huh?"

I look up from where I've been peering at a diagram in The Yurt Bible—my nickname for the thick textbook of instructions that came with the yurt kit—and find my dad ambling up the path to the clearing.

I set the book down with a thud and get up from sitting on the first few boards of the wooden platform I've been building for the past couple days.

"Yep, this is it."

Jinx has been slinking around the clearing while I work. She pauses in the middle of running along one of the beams to blink at my dad before skittering off into a clump of ferns.

He does the typical dad routine of surveying the project with his hands in the pockets of his very dadcore utility pants, hemming and hawing as he bends to look at the foundation and give a couple boards a few test shoves with his boot.

"What's the verdict?" I ask.

He nods and crosses his arms over his chest after giving his bushy beard a contemplative stroke. "Looks good."

I stifle a laugh. To say my father is a man of few words is an understatement. Still, he's not one to dish out even basic praise if he doesn't sincerely believe it's deserved.

"Thanks, Dad," I say with a grin.

He wanders over to inspect the pile of supplies still stacked up beside the shed before peering inside at the collection of tools I've lugged out here.

I take the opportunity to check the time on my phone where I've stashed it next to my water bottle and a sweater. I wince when I see the time on the screen.

My plan to distract myself from all my nerves today by getting sucked into construction mode worked a little too well. It's almost an hour later than I thought, meaning Neavh will be here any minute.

My throat goes dry, and I glance over at my dad as panic surges in my bloodstream.

He has to get out of here.

I still haven't told anyone Neavh is helping me. I don't even know if she is helping me anymore. We went a whole day without either of us texting before she asked if she should still come over for our next building session.

I said she didn't have to.

She said she'd understand if I didn't want her to.

I said that's not what I meant.

Then I panicked and sent her three different GIFs of Spongebob Squarepants riding a giant jellyfish before telling her she should come over if she wants. After that, I threw my phone across the room and didn't look at it for the rest of the night.

"Uh, Dad…" I begin before trailing off after I realize I don't have a plausible reason to get him out of here.

He lumbers out of the storage shed and says something about my choice in power tools, but I don't process the words. I can feel my armpits getting slick with sweat as my pulse drums out an insistent warning.

He has to leave. He has to leave.

Any second now, I'll get a text from Neavh to go meet her at the gate. The last thing I need is for our first post-kiss interaction to be chaperoned by my father, especially since he's never been Neavh's biggest fan and definitely hasn't formed a positive opinion in the years since she disappeared on me without a trace.

"Clover?" He takes a few steps closer to me, his bushy eyebrows crinkling. "You all right?"

I blink a few times and realize I must have zoned out for longer than I thought.

"Oh, um, yeah," I say. "I'm fine. Just, uh, working through all those instructions, you know? Lots of, um, thinking."

I pick up The Yurt Bible and awkwardly wave it around like that's supposed to explain everything.

Dad gives me a weird look. I bend over to set the book back down. When I look back up, he's still watching me, but his expression has shifted into something that makes me freeze with my breath caught in my throat. The deep lines of his face have softened into something that looks a lot like tenderness.

I open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to it.

"I'm…"

His voice is hoarse. He pauses to clear his throat, a little of his usual gruff demeanor returning as he rolls his shoulders back.

"Just, erm, wanted to say I'm proud of you."

I gawk at him, my jaw hanging open as I blink like I've been hit over the head with one of the boards stacked beside the shed.

"Huh?"

It's not like I grew up starved for praise. If anything, it was the opposite of that, but when my dad tells me he's proud of me, I can usually tell why. He doesn't have a habit of following me out in the woods just to get misty-eyed and sing my praises.

"You're doing good out here. It looks great."

He shoves his hands back in his pockets and kicks at a few pebbles on the ground.

"Thank you?"

He avoids my eyes as he nods and says, "I'm glad you still want to be part of the campground."

I take a few fumbling steps backwards, and my calves knock against the frame of the platform.

"O-oh?" I stutter.

"It's, uh…it's not the same without you here, Clover. I'm glad you're home."

He looks up at me, and in the second our eyes lock, all the shock and confusion of the past few minutes is wiped away.

My dad loves me. My dad needs me. My dad is happy I'm here.

How could I have any doubt this is where I belong?

How could I ever leave this all behind when he needs me?

"Oh, Dad."

I teeter forwards and then lunge for him. I wrap my arms around him and take a deep breath of the familiar scent of his flannel: pine boards, dryer sheets, and an ever-present trace of the woods.

He smells like home.

This is home.

I close my eyes and squeeze him tighter, like a little kid coming home from a long day at school.

For a second, he seems just as shocked by my emotional display as I was by his, but then his arms slide around me in one of those signature Robert Rivers bear hugs—the kind only a few people in the world are lucky enough to get.

We stay like that for what feels like a couple minutes, until a rustling in the bushes makes us glance over at the noise and break apart.

Jinx pokes her head out of a clump of ferns, her green eyes glinting like hidden jewels, before disappearing again with a swish of her tail.

"Crazy cat," Dad mutters.

My eyes are burning. I reach up to dab at them with my sleeve, and the motion draws his attention to the bracelet on my wrist.

He reaches out to give the silver Canada goose charm a flick.

"You ever want to go out looking for goose eggs some morning, you let me know, okay?"

He gives my bracelet another flick and gets a watery laugh out of me. I'm about to let him know we're a little late for baby geese season when another rustling sound interrupts me.

I turn around, wondering how Jinx got to the other side of the clearing so fast, and freeze when I spot the source of the noise.

Neavh is standing at the end of the path, frozen mid-step with a startled look on her face.

My heartbeat jolts like a spaceship engine kicking into hyper-drive. Blood rushes in my ears, and the whole forest seems to spin for a moment as my brain catches up with reality.

Neavh is here.

My dad is here.

Neavh and my dad are in the same place.