Not just a nurse, really, but the best emergency room nurse at El Camino Mountain View. But let’s be modest about it.

“And June is when people start doing more dangerous things like hiking and camping and rock climbing, and they end up needing emergency care more often than usual,” he continues. “And what would those people do if Poppy were on vacation when they needed help?”

“The same thing people do when they need surgery when Mom’s on vacation,” comes Afton’s voice from the doorway. This time she’s wearing a pajama shirt and boxers, thank god. “They get it done by somebody else, and they’re fine.”

“And you always come to the STS conference,” I say again. “Plus, you’ve been working so hard lately. You could use the R and R.”

“What’s R and R?” asks Abby, adorably, because she can’t fully pronounce her R’s yet.

“Rest and relaxation.” Pop rubs at his eyes like he’s tired just thinking about work, which proves my point, but he’s already saying no even though he knows I’m right. “I’m sorry, girls. We’re short staffed this year. I can’t get away.”

Afton and I exchange tense glances, the friction between us momentarily placed on hold while we assess this new information. I don’t believe his flimsy excuse about work for a second. This has to be about Mom. Maybe they even had a fight between last night and now, one that we don’t know about. Maybe they’re breaking up.

“What does Mom think about you not going?” Afton asks, because she’s come to the same conclusion.

“She understands. Of course she does,” Pop answers a bit sadly.

This is not good. Not good at all. “But, Pop—” I start.

“You probably don’t even want to go to the conference,” Afton theorizes.

“That’s silly,” Pop says. “Why wouldn’t I want to go?”

I can think of a reason: Because Hawaii is where he and Mom were in all kinds of intense, beautiful love, and they’re not in that kind of love anymore.

“Because you hate having to spend an entire week with a bunch of judgmental, stuck-up surgeons who think nurses are morons, and male nurses are even worse,” says Afton.

Pop’s face goes slightly red. “No. That’s not—”

“Then why?” Afton asks sharply.

“I told you,” he says. “I have to work.”

“But this year is Hawaii. You love Hawaii.” I hate that my voice is a whine, but I can’t help it. Pop is my favorite person. I know it shouldn’t be a kind of competition between who I like best in my family, but if I’m being honest, there’s no contest. It’s Pop. Not Mom or Afton or even Abby.

Pop is my rock.