“Thanks, Mr. Cooper!” Ada leapt out with the door already slamming home before the car had rocked back from stopping. “Bye, Carly! Message me!”

She bounded over the tidy bed of pansies to shortcut the walkway to her front door.

Jonathan dropped the car into reverse and drifted backward toward the street.

“Wait,” Carly commanded.

He hit the brake hard, expecting Carly to point out a cat or a toddler in the way.

She didn’t look at him. “You’re supposed to wait until she gets inside.”

Of course. That should have been automatic. It was fundamental to his role of fatherly not-father to act as if he cared about things he didn’t. But he was curious that Carly somehow felt bold enough to deliver the stern poke of you know better. She needed to be in a more useful mood. All his obvious brooding hadn’t been enough to get her there.

He needed more time. “We need a few things from the store. And you and I need to have a talk before we get home.”

She nodded and took up a more Ada-like interest in the street rushing past them.

“Carly, what the hell were you doing showing up there?”

She whipped around in her seat. She’d been spring-loaded for him to say anything. “Me? What were you the hell doing there? It sure the hell wasn’t racquetball!”

Carly should have been easier to play. She was a kid. “Don’t say hell.”

Her pink cheeks went neon.

He and Carly had a side-door communication. He wasn’t her parent. He wasn’t her peer. Neither of those approaches would have been the way in. So from the beginning, he’d teased her. He delivered most everything he needed to say on a joke with only the faintest edge of authority, and they’d always understood each other. As much as he ever wanted to be understood by anyone, she’d been the best. “You’re not good at it. The hell thing just isn’t working for you. Your mother will—”

“John! Stop it!”

“Okay! Fine. But seriously, what were you doing following me? What were you thinking? It’s crazy. I mean, I’m not mad. We’ll get past it. But this is not okay.”

Carly turned toward him in her seat, burning her opinion into the side of his head.

He glanced back from the road to see where they were in this. He didn’t recognize her. Jaw set, eyes sparking. And the strangest thing yet—that she didn’t mind being seen like that. She didn’t wilt into the grumbling fourteen-year-old expected thing. Under challenge, she didn’t look down or flinch to a lower wattage.