“In here.” I sit up and pull a protesting Cheese onto my lap.

“Hey, you know it’s Friday, right?”

I nod.

Dad looks around for a minute, and I wonder what it feels like to be back in this house now that he doesn’t live here. I’ll never forget the first night without him. I kept waking up all night, feeling like I’d forgotten something.

“I just missed Cheese,” I say.

And upon hearing his name, Cheese jumps out of my arms and weaves in and out of Dad’s legs, purring and letting out the occasional meow. Dad squats down to scratch his chin, and Cheese immediately plops down and rolls over, inviting belly rubs.

“Me too,” says Dad. “You don’t want to come hang out for a few nights, buddy? Not a fan of split custody, huh?”

Cheese nips lovingly at Dad’s knuckle.

It’s one small thing, like Kiera said. But I can’t stop it. The tears just flow out of me like someone turned on a faucet.

Dad stands up and rushes over to me. “Oh, Sweet Pea. What is it, baby?” He reaches down and pulls me up off my feet and into a hug. And I don’t even care that he’s still covered in paint from work.

“Nothing,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “Everything. Mom has a boyfriend. Oscar’s mad at me.” And so much more I can’t say.

We stand there for a moment in the house that will always belong to all of us as Cheese settles in on top of our feet and Dad lets me cry every tear in my body.

“Let it all out. This isn’t easy,” Dad says. “This isn’t easy for any of us, but especially you. And I’m so, so sorry for that.”

I nod, taking a step back as I dry my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. I’m guessing Mom’s boyfriend wasn’t news to him.

“You ready to head over to my place?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, hey,” says Dad, reaching past me. “My mail! What the heck? How could they send me absolutely nothing and then this?”

He takes the envelope with a red FINAL NOTICE stamp across the front and stuffs it into his pocket. I’m tempted to slap it out of his hand—anything I can do to just make time freeze.

As we walk out the door, Cheese surprises us both by following us out to the sidewalk and to Dad’s house as we walk hand in hand.

Dad laughs. “This cat calls all the shots, doesn’t he?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

My Calling

On Saturday morning, I wake up before Dad and head on over to Miss Flora Mae’s to check the mail for a bundle from Mr. Joe Salazar and to water the plants and play them some Aretha Franklin.

I gasp the moment her voice crackles out of Miss Flora Mae’s speakers. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before! I spent all of last night searching for inspiration for my research project, and the inspiration has been here all along. Aretha Franklin! She is the perfect subject for my research project. Once that decision is squared away, I feel a burden lift from my shoulders, and I’m all ready to skim through the latest stack of letters.