I take the photo as the music fades with the soft crash of cymbals. Polite applause fills the lounge and I watch my dad bask in it, in his element. Lately, Dad has been consumed by Melted in his own way—and as much as I resisted his involvement, it has brought us closer together, too. He spends after-school rehearsals dedicated to the band and making sure the music sounds nothing less than perfect. And at home, we recap our progress from the day and discuss what’s next. If Dad has questions about the songs, he even comes to me, not Reid.

It almost feels like how the clarinet used to feel, but better, since… I actually like this. And that has been the best surprise.

Delia and I applaud with loud woots, yelling, “Aaron!” because it’s the only time we get away with calling Dad by his first name. And though he pretends to hate it, we all know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Mom smiles her most toothy grin when she looks at Dad. I hope I look at someone someday the way that Mom looks at Dad when he plays the clarinet. I think maybe it’s easier to Art, to pursue dreams that feel impossible, when someone believes in you the way my parents believe in each other.

Dad and Reid join us after the closing notes of their set, as we’re gathering our coats and hats. I for one am so ready for the latke portion of the evening.

“Nice set, Reid,” Dad claps Reid on the back, pride radiating in his voice. “Maybe your best yet. What did you think, Leo?”

“He’s okay, I guess.” Leonard laughs, like he’s just teasing, but he doesn’t look up from his phone and I can see Reid’s face fall as he starts making his way to the exit. I hurry out after him, slinging my scarf around my neck.

“Okay, I guess is a glowing review,” Reid says before I can say anything. We stop in the parking lot under a streetlamp and I wrap my coat around me tight, holding it in place because the zipper broke last week. “He didn’t even watch, did he?”

I shrug. “I’m sorry.”

Reid sighs and covers half of his face with the fedora. “You’d think I’d stop giving two shits by now. Why do I care?”

I lift the rim of the hat and place it back on his head properly. “Because he’s your dad.”

It hits me like a punch in the stomach, the fact that Reid has Dad Feelings too.

“I watched,” I say. “You’re more than okay, I guess.”

Reid blushes.