Swiveling back toward the desk, he chuckles as the photo pops out, and I lean over his shoulder to watch it develop with him. He smells minty, like toothpaste and shaving cream, and I cock my head toward him instead of the picture. His brows are puckered, and the back of his hair is thinning. I didn’t notice that before.
Sometimes when I stare at him for too long, I have this moment where time freezes, and it hits me all over again. This man is my dad. My actualdad. I still have trouble believing it, like I’ve been caught in an unexpected gust of wind. It’s comforting on one hand, knowing he’s here, but it scares me too. Because just like a gust of wind, he could come and go at any time without warning.
Pressing my lips together, I try to ignore the fear creeping up on me. The faint outline of heartbreak around my chest. It’s rare when I let the sensation bubble up enough to really feel it. I don’t like it at all. All it does is confuse me and remind me of all my unanswered questions.
“Well?” he asks, snapping me back to the present. “It’s decent, right?”
I look at the photo between his fingers. “It’s perfect. Thanks.” I smile, hoping it covers up the shakiness in my voice.
Something sad passes through his eyes. It’s a look I’ve seen a few times now. “Good,” he murmurs, glancing back at the picture. “That’s good. Do you mind if I keep this one?”
I shake my head.
“Thank you, Bluebell.” He sighs, pushing up from his chair, and pins the photo to the corkboard above his desk with a thumbtack.
I’m right in between pictures of Rebecca and Kimmie, snug in the middle, and a swallow sticks in my throat. My chest swells more with every second I stare, expanding to make a permanent spot for these new people in my life. People I had no idea existed three and a half months ago.
“Something on your mind?”
“Hmm?” I drag my attention back to Tim.
“You looked a little lost in thought for a minute there.”
“Oh. It’s nothing.” Glancing back at the corkboard, my voice drops almost to a whisper. “Just ... happy to be here.”
There’s a pause. “You are?”
“Yeah.” I turn back to him, and that sadness in his eyes has spread to the corners of his lips, pulling them down.
“Well, I’m really glad too. Would you mind if ... can we take a walk?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
Something softens in his expression. “Really.”
“I’m always up for a walk.”
“I was kind of counting on that.” With a small smile, he steps aside to let me lead the way.
I let out a breath while we head to the stairs, trying not to tense. As excited as I am about the fact my dad wants to hang out with me, I can’t stop my nerves from flaring.
What if it goes bad? What if we don’t mesh well on our own?
Or worse. What if he says it out loud?
That he didn’t want me.
When we get downstairs, Kimmie’s peeking through the curtain of the living room window, her cell phone against her ear. She stops talking when she spots us, her eyes darting from her stepdad to me, and she lowers the phone.
“What are you guys up to?” she asks.
“Going on a little walk.” Tim meets my gaze. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”
Kimmie’s expression hardens on me. She scans my oversize fringe top and cut-off jean shorts, wrinkling her nose. “Whatever. Have fun.” Then she places the phone back against her ear and mutters, “Tiff, I’ll call you later, ’kay?” and hangs up.
“You still waiting for your dad?” Tim lifts his arm to check his wristwatch.
“He’ll be here any second.” She turns back to the window, flipping her hair over her shoulder and squinting as though maybe, if she stares hard enough, he’ll appear. “You guys should go. He hates missing time with me, so he’ll be pissed if he sees you distracting me and making him wait.”
