“Whatever is happening, we won’t let it. And I’m so happy to be here, but I’m also starving.” She smiled at him. “Airplane peanuts didn’t quite do the trick.” She thought of her beer, sitting at the pub, with only a sip taken from it.

“Well, my little lark, then we must go to the grocery because the cupboard is bare. I was going to eat at the pub myself.”

“Let’s go inside and see if there’s anything I can rustle up.” She wanted him to herself for a little while even if she hadn’t rustled up anything in longer than she could remember. She wanted to assess the situation without Shane or Hallie standing by with their mournful expressions, with their know-it-all facts about a relentless disease. She looped her arm through her dad’s and kissed his round cheek.

“You can surely try.” He fell into step beside her.

Halfway to the house, their feet denting the soft summer grass and the world quiet, he faced his daughter. “I know you came here because Shane and Hallie guilted you into coming, what with my diagnosis. But you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be. They’re wrong about it all. I just have a head too full of too much and sometimes I forget things.”

“I want to be here, Dad.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t. I know that. You haven’t wanted to be here since that terrible day. I understand. I wish it was different.” He paused and stared at the dome of sky. The thunderheads that had been building at the horizon had arrived and were starting to sprinkle warm raindrops. Then he gazed back to her, his eyes soft. “I’ve wished for you to return, but not this way. Not because something might be wrong with me. I want you here of your own desire.”

“Dad.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “I am here because I want to see you. If the doctors are wrong, or the doctors are right, we’ll find out. But I’m here for you!” She tugged at him. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

As they entered the house, the warmth of her childhood home embraced her. A fragrance, one she’d never been able to label, sifted around her. Toast with butter, she’d once told Hallie. No, Hallie had said, clean laundry. Salt water. Soil. Whatever it was, the elements combined into an aroma both primal and Donohue.

A loud clap of thunder, a shuddering of the world outside, and both Colleen and her dad jumped at the sound. Fat raindrops fell onto the wide windows and ran down to dimple the view outside. “We just made it.” Her dad pressed his hand against the window. “This house has always protected us.”