Two classic horror films and one early-morning sunrise later, I’m just drifting off to sleep when I’m jolted awake by the sound of Caitlyn coming down the stairs.

“—back and we can play later,” she’s saying as I blink my eyes open.

She freezes, surprised to find me on the couch, again.

“Hey, pumpkin,” I say, rubbing my face.

“Hi …”

“You hungry?”

“Yep!”

She hurries off to the kitchen.

I can’t keep doing this. In the past forty-eight hours, I think I’ve had a grand total of four hours of sleep, and today is going to be a long day.

I sit back on the couch and close my eyes. One moment. I want one quick moment to relax and not th—

“Dad, what’s for breakfast?”

I sigh and get up to feed the little monster.

*

After breakfast, we set off into town.

Our first stop is the main square. We park on a side street and spend the next hour or so, strolling among the antique shops and occasional clothing boutique.

Caitlyn spots Murphy’s, the old-fashioned soda shop on the main square, and asks if we could go in.

“How can you be hungry?” I ask. “We just ate breakfast.”

“Because it’s ice cream,” she replies.

Her logic is airtight and I’m too exhausted to argue.

*

Murphy’s has just opened and we are the only customers.

I’m hit by the memory of our last meal/milkshake here with Nicole. If Caitlyn remembers, she makes no sign. She’s too preoccupied with petting the owner’s black lab while we wait for our milkshakes. When they arrive—plain vanilla for me, peanut butter and chocolate for Caitlyn—we sit in a booth by the window and watch Kingsbrook come to life …

“—na race …? Dad? … Dad?”

I snort awake and sit up in the booth. I dozed off. It was only for a second. My head had drifted back, my eyes closed, and I was out. My milkshake sits undisturbed on the table in front of me, while Caitlyn’s is almost halfway gone.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”

“Do you wanna have a race?”

“A race? A race to where?”

“To see who can finish their milkshake first.”

I’m still trying to get my senses in order. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

“And go!”

Caitlyn clamps her lips around the end of the straw and starts pulling it through. She closes her eyes tightly with the effort.

I leave my milkshake untouched and watch.

“You’re going to get brain freeze,” I warn her, but she’s almost done.

The level of milkshake in her glass falls to the bottom.

She reaches the end and the remains of the milkshake slurp through the bottom of the straw.

Caitlyn gulps it down and opens her eyes. “I won!” she says, smiling triumphantly.

I know what’s coming.

Wait for it … wait for it …