Once the crowd around me dispersed, we climbed into the car and headed to get ice cream. I was glad Dad had decided to take me to my concert instead of Mom. She didn’t like ice cream.
We sat outside the shop with the clear night sky above us. Dad didn’t get anything to eat. He just watched me and didn’t say much.
“Look. It’s the Big Dipper.” I pointed up at the speckles of light.
Dad laughed. “Is that the only one you know?”
I shrugged and grinned, licking my cone before the ice cream dripped onto my hand.
After I popped the last bite of my cone into my mouth—the best part of an ice cream cone, in my opinion—my dad and I got back in the car to head home, and I turned on the radio.
He tapped his fingers as I sang along to The Beatles. And then Blondie. And then Fleetwood Mac.
“I’m really proud of you, Av,” he said, turning the stereo down and staring at the road ahead. “Your brother too.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I looked up at him and saw his wet cheek. He was crying again, but this time, he wasn’t smiling. “What’s the matter?”
A sob broke loose from his throat.
I reached over the console and rubbed his arm. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”
We started to go faster.
“You know I love you. Right, Avery?”
I nodded.
“You, your brother, and your mom…you all mean the world to me,” he cried, pushing his foot down harder.
I glanced from him to the road and back to him, nodding again. “Dad?”
He didn’t blink. “I’m sorry, sweet pea. I never want to hurt you. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
I started to cry too. “Dad, you’re scaring me. Slow down.”
“I’m so tired, Avery. So tired.” He shook his head and scrunched his face. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” His voice was shaky as he continued to focus on the road, but I didn’t know how he could see it anymore with all the tears he was letting go of. “I just can’t leave, knowing you’re stuck here too. You shouldn’t ever have to feel this pain. Ever. You’re too good for it, too kind.”
I didn’t understand. “What pain? Are you hurt?”
His foot touched the floor of the car. We were racing down the road, passing oncoming traffic in a blur. I screamed when he nearly clipped the side of a truck.
Terror constricted my throat, and I gripped the dashboard. “Daddy! Stop it! I’m scared!”
“The world is scarier, Avery!” he shouted.
I’d never seen a sudden burst of anger like that from my father.
His eyes widened as we entered the bridge, and then he looked at me. “I can’t let you stay. I’m sorry. Trust me, it’s better this way.”
I rolled down my window, hoping the fresh air would clear his thoughts. There was nothing but darkness and water below. I felt something tug on my waist and looked down to see him unbuckling my seat belt. I frowned and noticed he wasn’t wearing one either. But we were going too fast to get out of the car.
My head started spinning.
Spinning.
Spinning.
Spinning.
