Chapter 7

“Dad?” I slowed my step as I reached my school’s attendance office and found him standing by the glass doors. They’d called me down to get checked out, but I had no idea why. “Is Mom okay?”

“Hi, baby princess. Everyone’s fine. I thought we could go out to lunch today. My treat.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he looked tired, but otherwise fine.

I released the bad scenarios that had gripped me on the way here and grinned. “Of course. I didn’t want to take that math test anyway.”

“Math test?” Dad groaned. “I have perfect timing. Where do you want to go?” He offered me his elbow, royalty-style, and I took it as we sauntered out the doors toward the parking lot. Spontaneity, fun, and dodging responsibilities weren’t like him at all. There had to be a purpose behind all this.

“The puppy café,” I said. “Nowhere else will do.”

His shoulders dipped, but to his credit, his smile didn’t. “The puppy café it is.”

The Japanese owners, Ami and Haru, had cleverly lined the tables against a glass wall with a shelf on the other side. Their adopted dogs, at least a dozen of them, could sit next to us as we ate with the glass between us. We could even go in and pet them afterward if we wanted. Ami had once explained to me that animal cafés were common in Japan. It only made me want to add it to my ever-growing list of places to visit someday. Any country where dogs and people could enjoy a meal together had to be amazing.

We ordered at the counter—Dad his burger and I one of their giant slices of pizza, my favorite—and chose a table near the largest mass of dogs, all playing with a ball. A golden retriever leaped over the rest, tossing the ball high into the air with his nose while the smaller dogs yipped and bounded after it.

Dad shifted in his seat. When he spoke, he didn’t look me in the eye. “You like to come here because of Jack, huh?”

“Yeah.” My shoulders slumped a little. Since Jack’s disappearance a few years back, I came here as often as I could. I didn’t mean to, but I always examined the dogs on the other side of that glass carefully, hoping he would appear among the rescues. He never did.

“I’m sorry, baby princess. I know he meant a lot to you.”

I swallowed. Dad never apologized. Something must be really wrong. “It’s okay.”

“But now we have cats, right? You love cats. Denny, and the other one . . . ”

The disappointment sliced through my gut. He couldn’t remember my kitten’s name. “Sunshine.”

“That’s right. Because sunshine is orange and so is the cat.” His smile was fake. Too wide. “My sunshine girl.”

I finally blurted out my question. “Dad, why are we here? Is everything okay?”

He folded his hands, still not looking at me. “Does something need to be wrong for me to spend time with my youngest daughter?”

Well . . . yes. We’d been close when I was a child, and I wanted it to be that way again. But this whole thing felt so contrived and awkward. The way he fidgeted and looked around the room—something was definitely up.

They brought our food and Dad forgot to thank the server. He placed my giant pizza slice in front of me. “Enjoy.”

“This is great. Thanks.” I dug in, the first bite burning my mouth yet not caring a bit.

“We were close when you were little.” Dad stared at his food, his voice distant. “My little buddy. I miss those days.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed and took another bite, washing it down with a large swig from my drink.

“Every father wants a son, but only the luckiest ones get daughters instead. You and your sisters have been the joy of my life. You’ve gotten me through some rough times.”

“Sorry you only got girls,” I told him between bites.

He smiled to himself and spoke through the food. “You don’t need to apologize, Jillie. Like I said, my girls are my sunshine. Especially you.” A big swallow, and he set his burger down. “Which is why I wanted to give you something special for your birthday this year.”

I grinned. “My birthday is eight months away.”

“Then you’ll have eight months to look forward to this.” He retrieved something from his pocket and held it out. Two paper tickets.

My heart galloped in my chest. I took them carefully, reverently, and read the words on the front.

“Tayler Laurie?!” I cried. I threw myself at him across the table, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you, Daddy!”

His arms snaked around me, and I heard the smile in his voice. “You’re welcome. The least I can do for my baby princess. Check the date.”

I stared at the tickets again, afraid the words would change. But no, this was real. “The date says my birthday. We’re going to the concert on my birthday?”

“It’ll be a three-hour drive, but yes. Your favorite artist is performing here in Arizona, on your birthday. I think we’re meant to be there. What do you think? You willing to go with your old man?”

“Yes! Of course. I can’t believe it. You’re the best!” I hugged him again, and he chuckled through the embrace. As I pulled away, though, a thought occurred to me. Dad often made promises like this, but he didn’t always follow through. I glanced at the dogs on the other side of the window and looked at my lap.

Dad sighed and his chair squeaked as he leaned back in his seat. “I know I haven’t been the perfect father, but I want to do better. The whole Jack thing was a big mistake. Nothing is getting in the way of this. Understand? Not work, not an accident causing traffic on the freeway, nothing. I’ll make sure we get to go, you and me. No matter what.”

I squirmed. He read me too well. “What about Alexis and Kennedy?” They weren’t big fans, but they did like Tayler’s music. Dad had never done anything like this for them.

He leaned forward, placing a hand next to his lips as if to make sure the people at the next table couldn’t hear. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite.”

I sat a little taller, the tickets still gripped in my hand. I’d put them front and center on my dresser, so I could see them every day. I pictured us at the concert, screaming for my favorite singer and dancing along to the songs, and let myself relax. “I know, Daddy. You’re my favorite, too.”