“Huh.” Shaking his head, he says, “Larry must be doing good to get back into their graces.” His tone turns just like it always does at the mention of the Estates. He looks at me as if he’s seeing me in a new light, seeing me as a grown woman. “Did you make good money?”

“Yes. It was a pretty party at a big white house. Green shutters—”

“Fancy cars and buttoned-up crowd?” His grin is genuine as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Yeah,” I reply, my hackles lowering when his dislike of that crowd turns into support for me. “A giant buffet, full party on the other side of the swimming pool. Grass so green . . . It was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.”

Sitting forward, he rests his forearms on his knees. “Did they treat you with respect?”

Harbor comes to mind, standing in the hallway with that devastating smile asking to spend time with me. Feeling that weak in the knees for someone will only get me in trouble. Saying yes to him once would free the floodgates to a thousand yeses right after. It’s best if I don’t lose focus on a gorgeous guy and keep my attention on my school and applications. “They did. They were very kind to me.”

I receive a nod in satisfaction as he gets up to check on the burgers. “Remember, don’t flip until they’re almost fully cooked. That way, the burgers don’t dry out.”

Seeing right through his own tactics of changing the topic, I ride along with him on the detour by getting up and taking the spatula from him. “Do I keep them on the flame or move them off?”

“Right on the flame, but don’t walk away, or they’ll burn at this stage.”

When the burgers are ready, we eat in front of an old box TV and watch the game. At halftime, he walks me outside and looks up. “It’s getting darker earlier.”

The cue for me to get going is his subtle concern for my safety and makes me feel loved. He’ll worry about me riding home in the dark until I text him that I made it. He tries his best not to treat me like I’m his little girl, but he’ll always look out for me.

I look at the sky and the golden light peeking through the trees. “I think we have another month before it gets dark earlier.” Taking my bike by the handlebars, I swipe the kickstand with my foot and swing my leg over.

He gives me a hug. I bury my head against him. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, Pipsqueak. Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

I roll down the driveway and into the street, waving as I ride in front of the house. “Love you.”

My dad is the best anyone could ever ask for. He stands there on the small steps and watches, waiting until I’m out of view. I wave one last time as I turn the corner.