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my father on the phone weekly for years. But I hadn’t seen him in just as long. I’d stayed away, feeling like that was Cameron’s territory. And if Cam wasn’t speaking to me, I didn’t want to accidentally bump into him on his turf. I’d been a coward. I nodded. “I’d like that.”

“I can find ways to entertain myself,” Connor said.

“No,” I shook my head, squeezing his hand. “I’d like you to meet my father.”

Cam nodded.

“Do you think that will confuse him?” Connor asked.

I looked to Cam to answer.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He met Jess. He liked her. He might not have understood exactly how she fit into our lives, but he was kind to her.”

“Will you come?” I asked Connor.

“Of course,” he said.

I looked at the man beside me, and experienced a brief flash of awe. He held my hand in his strong grip, but his unmoving strength was at my side—a comfort in itself. He was kind and generous, smart and insightful. And his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw didn’t hurt either. A strong wave of love washed through me suddenly, and I leaned toward him, bumping his shoulder with my own.

He smiled and put an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to him.

Cameron raised his bottle to us silently, and then turned his eyes away as he drank.

It wasn’t a short trip from Cam’s house in LA to the place where Dad was living up north, but Cam wanted to go. He didn’t feel like he could go straight back to work in light of everything that had happened, so he made a few calls while we put our things together the next morning, and then we all set out. Connor and I drove, and Cam insisted on following on his bike. I gave up trying to convince him to ride with us when Connor suggested that the mind-numbing ride up Interstate 5, coupled with the wind and vibration of the motorcycle, might be a good thing for a man with a lot on his mind.

I checked repeatedly behind us, and Cam was always there, the dark helmet, leathers, and dangerous-looking motorcycle, giving me unwanted flashes of Mad Max movies I’d seen as a kid. Cam’s bike was some Harley hybrid thing. He’d explained it when Connor had asked him, calling it a Zero-T5. Connor had looked impressed. At least Cam was talking. I had been a little worried he might send us away and sink into himself.

It took the whole day, but eventually we pulled up outside a long low building with a glass atrium pushed out front and manicured bushes reaching out on either side toward the parking lot. The building was lined with wide grassy walkways that held benches, flowers and plenty of folks sitting and strolling in the late afternoon sun.

Cam fastened his helmet to his bike and led us inside.

“Visitors for Bill Turner.”

The woman behind the desk smiled at Cam, despite the fact that he looked like some half-crazed mercenary with his leathers on and his face lined with dirt from the exhausting ride. The dead look in his eyes didn’t help. “You’re, uh, family?”

I nodded and stepped up. “We are. Daughter and son. And friend.” I grasped Connor’s hand.

She made a quick call, pointing us to a set of chairs. A few minutes later, a man appeared, wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. I didn’t know if he was a doctor or some kind of orderly. He looked like he might be visiting another patient.

“Hi Cam,” he said, clearly having met my brother before. “I’m Alex.” He stretched a hand out for me to shake.

I stood and took it. “I’m Maddie, I’m Cam’s sister, and my boyfriend Connor.”

“Good to see you. Cam, glad you’re back.”

We all stood.

“You chose a good day. Bill’s been lucid for the last few hours. We thought about calling you actually, Cam, but with the long drive, we were worried that you’d get here and it’d be too late. Your timing is incredible. Come on back.”

He waved a badge at the doors beside the desk and they opened for us. We walked down a hallway and then through a well-furnished and stylish lounge area that looked like a huge living room where many people sat playing cards, knitting, and watching television. While we walked, Alex talked about Dad, and about how well he was doing.

Soon we came to another hallway, and Alex led us to a doorway. Through the open door, I could see a man sitting outside the room on a small exterior patio, his back to us. There were two other people out there with him, and they were all laughing together. A shock of recognition went through me as the man turned his head slightly. It was my dad, but it wasn’t. I could only see him in profile, but I would recognize the chin and nose anywhere. The thing that shook me was that his familiar features were set beneath a shock of unruly white hair, and the lean in the frail shoulders was nothing like the strong man I remembered, the man who’d swung me around in the air.

I hadn’t seen Dad in the same three years that Cam and I had been apart. And he had changed a lot. My heart threatened to crumple from the weight of guilt and sadness, but I took a deep breath and determined to be strong.

Alex went out and spoke to him while we waited, and Dad turned to gaze through the open doorway, a look of wonder on his face. I heard him exclaim, “I don’t believe it!”

Shame at my absence flooded me as he came inside, moving slowly, to pull me into his arms and bury his face in my shoulder.

“Maddie! My Peach. I’m so happy you came.”

I found Connor’s eyes over Dad’s shoulder as I hugged him, and tried to push away the regret that was washing through me when I thought about how much Dad had changed in so short a time.

“And Cameron. Son.” He stepped back and then pulled Cam into his arms. “You aren’t eating enough. You look terrible.” He grinned at us as he released Cam and then turned to Connor. “Aren’t you that writer fellow?” To my surprise, Dad turned and picked up a book from a side table. Connor’s face gazed out from the back cover, and Dad nodded at it.

Connor smiled and put out his hand. “I am. Connor Charles, sir.”

“This is my boyfriend, Dad,” I said.

“Your jerk of a husband okay with that?” Dad asked, waving us to sit down.

This was the first time Dad had referred to Jack at all since our wedding. Every time I’d spoken with him recently, he’d rewound time and had me back in grad school. Before Jack.

“We’re divorced,” I said.

“Well that’s a relief,” he laughed.

“You’re a Connor Charles fan?” I asked him. I hadn’t thought of Dad reading at all, let alone gritty thrillers.

He smiled. “Truth? Something about them reminds me of you. The curly haired girls always live.”

Connor laughed and the sound ran through me like fire. I took his hand and pressed my thumb against his palm.

Cam and I exchanged glances. Dad was actually here, he didn’t think he was on a cruise today, and he knew exactly who we were. It was like the last three years had never happened.

“How are you?” I asked my father, wishing that question could contain so much more than a simple pleasantry.

He smiled and for a minute, we were back in time. He was young and strong, my daddy, my hero. I saw his wry sense of humor and the strength that shone from him. “I’m old, Peach, and I have to tell you, it’s not all fun and games. But I’ve got some friends here,” he glanced back out the door to the two other men who were slowly crossing the lawn, headed away from us. “And life is good. Time passes, you know?”

I wanted more for my father than just time passing, but in the face of age and dementia, I had no real way to give it to him. I vowed silently to visit. Regularly. Often. All I had to give him now was myself, and I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore.

“Got a new book coming out soon?” Dad asked Connor. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.”

Connor blushed and grinned. “I do, sir. I’ll make sure you get an early copy.”

Dad picked up the book he’d set aside and handed it to Connor. “If you sign this one, I’ll be like a celebrity around here, you know.”

Connor looked around for a pen, finding one lying on a small table, and signed the inside cover of the book. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” He handed the book back.

“Honor’s mine. I’m not the famous one here.” Dad spoke to Connor, but his eyes had landed on Cam after he’d set the book in his lap. The watery old eyes narrowed and he seemed to know there was something wrong.

“Where’s that cute little blond wife of yours, Cameron? Jess?”

Cameron’s eyes dropped and he missed a few beats. Dad’s face changed as he watched him, and

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