I shake my head. “He’s not even listed on my birth certificate. I’m not sure my mom actually knows who it is.”

Daniel blows out a long breath. “Do you ever think about finding him?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Not really. I mean, I guess I’m supposed to be all maladjusted and melancholy with daddy issues, but the truth is, I’ve never thought about him much. I was too busy missing my mom—hating her, worrying about her—to expend any energy on him. Does that sound harsh?”

“Nah. I get it.”

“So, what was that cute-but-dumb speech all about?” I venture.

Daniel laughs uncomfortably. “Mawmaw Barb wasn’t fond of Madeline. Told me I needed to stop isolating myself after we broke up. Her exact words were, Daniel, you got to jump in with both feet, like a clean pig finding a new mud puddle. I think she thinks that’s you.”

“Great. So I’m a mud puddle now?”

“Of sorts.”

“Does that mean she likes me?” I ask.

“A lot more than she liked Madeline,” he replies.

“I wonder why,” I say without expecting an answer.

“You’re nothing like Madeline. You’re opposite in, like, every way.”

It doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment or an insult. I raise my brows in question.

He groans. “I’m so bad at this.”

“Yes, you are,” I laugh. “But I think I know what you mean.”

“Madeline was high-maintenance. It was exhausting. But you’re relaxed. You don’t need to hide behind all that stuff. And you don’t care what people think.”

“How do you know that?” Maybe I didn’t care what others thought of me in the usual sense, but there were parts of me Moony did not accept. Parts like my mother in me. Parts like the artist in me. Something had been unknotting inside me since I’d come here. It was making me more real. I always believed that Moony was unapologetically herself and that I’d gotten that from her. But here in New Orleans, I could see the opposite was true. If anyone was unapologetically themselves, it was my mother. So why was Moony’s version more acceptable?

“It’s written all over you. Don’t have to be Mawmaw to see it.”

I fold my hands in my lap, processing.