I can only hold her stare for a few seconds because she’s right, I do know that. Yoga keeps me in shape, but Elsie has a natural scrappiness I could never compete with. Plus, she’s been carrying children or car seats for the last four years; her upper-body strength is incredible.

“Fine.” I pout and fall back into my chair. “You win, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Well, you better get happy because here she comes.” She looks over my shoulder and I think she’s lying until she stands up, shouting, “Daisy, hey! We’re over here!”

Friends are overrated. There really is something to be said about living that recluse life. But I can only wallow in my poor life decisions for a moment before the chair beside me is pulled out and Daisy’s long body folds into it.

“Daisy! Um, hey.” I sound every bit as uncomfortable as I feel. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” She sounds as awkward as I do. The usual pep and excitement in her voice are missing. “I’m sorry if this—I mean, Elsie said it would be fine, but I know everything with Dad and . . .” She trails off, closing her eyes and taking a breath so deep that I feel it. “I can leave if this isn’t okay with you.”

“No,” I answer without hesitation and grab her hand in mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Really?” Hope sparkles in her blue eyes and embarrassment causes the margarita I’ve been sipping on to sour in my gut.

As much as I try to tell myself that my dad doesn’t control me, here I am, letting him dictate my relationship with Daisy. I’ve given him so much power without even realizing it. And that ends now.

“Yes, really.” I tighten my grip on hers, anxious to say what needs to be said. “You know my relationship with Dad isn’t great, and I don’t see that ever changing. I know he does what he wants without ever considering anybody else. I don’t hold his actions against you, but I know you have a different relationship with him. I was worried about offending you because there’s a one hundred percent chance I’ll call him an asshole in front of you at some point. I thought a little distance would be better than fighting over him.”

“Oh my god. I think Dad is an asshole too! You should hear my sessions with my therapist.” She pulls her hand out of mine and tugs me into a tight hug. “I’m embarrassed it took me so long to understand how he left you, but I want you to know that I would never judge you for your feelings toward him. I’ve given you so much space because I didn’t want to force you into a relationship where you felt uncomfortable.”