I wrapped my arms around my second dad, weeping all the sorrow out together. I had never seen him cry before then, and I would never see him cry again. Though he wore his sadness every day. I saw through the fake smiles and awful dad jokes he tried to mask it with. This was the first time he was real with me. And maybe even a little hopeful.

“Did you at least make sure the baby had her velveteen rabbit with her?”

“Of course. She’ll have it to always remember you by.”

I kissed his rough cheek. “We’ll be okay.”

“Because we’re built tough.” He smiled. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

I grinned weakly. “What?”

“An investigator.”

I chuckled, not because it was funny but because Dad needed it.

“How about you take a $100 and get yourself a new wardrobe?” He handed me his wallet as he got up and walked to the kitchen, stirring the Hamburger Helper and smelling it with a satisfying mmm.

I laughed for real this time that Dad thought I could buy a decent wardrobe for $100. But I learned how to stretch a dollar. I pulled out the bill and noticed a name written across the top:

Felicity Portman

In my dad’s neat block handwriting.

Never before had we had this kind of cash. I wondered if this money was a payment from the nice lady who adopted my sister. Pocketing the bill, I memorized that name, Felicity Portman, because I had a feeling one day I would need it.

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Marin

Eight years ago…

For my twentieth birthday I decided to treat myself to freedom. I didn’t have enough cash from waitressing and doing community theatre to treat myself to a spa day like I would have preferred, but freedom was the next best thing.

Tiptoeing to where my father sprawled out on the couch, asleep while watching archeologists uncover the mysteries of ancient Egypt on the History Channel, I kissed his forehead. He stirred, eyelids fluttered open, gazed hazily up at me.

“Hey, kiddo.” I loved how he still called me kiddo, when ironically I felt like I’d never been a kid. “Ya need something?” His breath reeked of whiskey, assaulting my nose. He shifted to sit up, but I rested my hand on his shoulder.

“No need to get up, Dad. I’m just heading out for a bit. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmkay, honey. Could you pick me up a six-pack on your way home?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

I turned to leave, but his hand touched mine, stopping me. “The past, present, and future walk into a bar…” I grinned, already knowing the punchline. He’d told me this one before.

“It was tense,” I said with a light chuckle.

“Aw, I musta told you that one already.”

“Nah, I’m just that clever, Dad.”

“Ya really are, kiddo. Ya really are.”