CHAPTER TWO
“A daughter needs a dad to be the standard against which she will judge all men.”

 

The smile left McKenna's face as if it were a drawing erased. She stood there for a moment, letting those words sink in. 'Your father, your father, your father.' Then, McKenna turned and ran out the house.
She ran hard but pretty soon she was gasping for breath. She sank to the curb, fingering her locket, and took out her iphone. Once again, she remembered that it was dead. Dead, just as her mother was. Dead, just as they had assumed her father to be.  With a shaky sigh, McKenna got up and walked the last few feet to Jace's house.
“Hey Shrimp,” Jordan held the door open for her.
“Jordan.” McKenna sniffled and hugged him. She couldn't wait until the day Jace married her and Jordan became her brother-in-law. She pushed her face into his Polo sweatshirt as he hugged her back.
“What's down?”
“Do we have any ice-cream?” McKenna's voice shook harder as she tried to stop it. She hated that! She hated not being able to control her emotions!
“No, I don't think so.” Jordan held her at arm's length and frowned at the tears in her eyes. “I'm on my way to work,” he said, “but Jace is in his room.”
“Okay,” she sniffed.
“You kids be good, alright?” By that Jordan meant no sex, no drugs, no drinking, no smoking, and no having people over. It was kind of funny. Jace and Jordan's dad was always at work and Jordan was working a lot as well, so they were basically unsupervised. They had spent hours alone up in Jace's room, but Jordan was cool with that. He trusted them to do what they were supposed to. However, even if they did something they shouldn't, nobody would know.
“We will, Jordan.” McKenna climbed the stairs up to Jace's room. She knew he was probably playing Call of Duty or some other stupid game, but she didn't care. He could play video games later; they were ruining his mental capacity anyway. “Jace?”
His eyelids flew upward and he jumped up from his prostrate position on the bed. “McKenna!” A red flush crept up his neck.
“What were you doing?” McKenna frowned, leaning into him. “How come you're just lying there like that?”
“I was just thinking. T-tired, I guess.” Jace stuttered.
“About what?” McKenna murmured as she and Jace, intertwined, fell onto Jace's bed. Luckily for him, he had an excuse not to answer her question. He framed her face with his hands and kissed her deeply. McKenna sighed and allowed her despair to dissipate, if only for a moment. He began to pull off her orange tank top.
Suddenly, McKenna turned away. The tears finally streamed down her cheeks. They felt good, hot and salty like roasted seaweed in miso soup. Those were the very best kind of tears. Hot tears were not only cathartic, but they temporarily released pain in a way that nothing else could.
“Ken?” Jace tilted her face with his hands, but she buried it into the gray-blue blankets. “Ken-ny.” He kissed her neck and earlobe. When she didn't respond to that, Jace buried his face right next to hers so he was looking into her cloudy eyes.
“Jace, I went home and I didn't know. I guess Grammy called me or something, but my iphone was dead. I went in the living room and saw this guy and then she told me he was my father!”
“Your father?” Jace was incredulous.
“Yes! Where did he even come from? And how come she has him in the house like that? She, of all people, should not let him in that house without a reasonable explanation from him as to why he disappeared off the face of the earth for like forever!”
“So what's a reasonable explanation?”
McKenna used a fist to swipe angrily at her tears. “Like if he was in a coma or he was kidnapped by aliens or something! How could Grammy just accept him like that?”
“He is her son, Kenny.” Jace said.
“I don't care if he's her son or not! He still disappeared without saying where he was going or even goodbye to her. She was worried sick about him! We thought he was dead, Jace! He just abandoned me! What if Grammy died- I would be a disconsolate orphan!”
McKenna sat up on the bed. She looked a mess! Her hair was rumpled from the bedsheets and her eyes were crazed. Jace laughed. “I love you,” he said and leaned forward to kiss her hard. “Wanna get some pizza?
McKenna smiled slightly. “I think you want pizza. But I have to go back home. Grammy doesn't know where I am; I just ran out.”
“I'll walk with you.”
“No, it's okay.” Both Jace and McKenna watched McKenna's hands as they pulled her tank top down. Then, they both sighed. “Next time,” McKenna promised.
“Next time.”
McKenna used the walk from Jace's house to her own to calm down. She didn't know if everything would collapse once she stepped inside again. She didn't know how she would deal with this because right now all she felt was hatred and the burning desire to slice his throat and make sure he was good and dead. She wondered what had ever possessed her mother to marry him! Honestly though, she hadn't really known her mother and didn't know what kind of person she was. It was nice to pretend, but she really didn't know the truth.
“Where is he?” McKenna confronted her grandmother in the kitchen.
Lilliana Skye continued stirring the pot on the stove, then sighed softly. “Mamasita, Mamasita.”
“Where. Is. He.” She crossed her arms, refusing to be softened by the familiar nickname. This was not funny! Hopefully, Grammy had sent him away.
“Upstairs, Mamasita.” Lilliana turned the stove off and turned to her granddaughter. “Patrick's upstairs.”
“Well, what is he doing up there?” Tears spurted into McKenna's eyes. She wanted to scream! Arghh! How could this be happening to her? She knew better than to start cussing in the house, but if something did not change soon, it just might happen. “Why is he upstairs?”
“Sit down, McKenna,” Lilliana spoke in her lilting Spanish accent. She herself sat at the kitchen table. “Let me talk to you.”
“I do not want to sit down.” McKenna rolled her eyes, but she sat down anyway. Only out of the great respect she held for her grandmother. “I don't want to talk either. I just want you to please tell me in one simple sentence why in the world that man is upstairs.”
“He's unpacking.”
“Why Grammy? Why?” McKenna's voice cracked and she laid her head on the wooden table. This was more than she could take! Let him stay for dinner, fine. No, he could not, and would not, spend the night. “Can you please get that man out of this house! I know it's yours, but if he stays, I leave. Why is he here, Grammy?”
“He's staying for a while, Mamasita.” Lilliana was crying too. She did not want to hurt her precious granddaughter in this way, but it had to be done. It was needed. “He's finally settled, and he came back here to make things right with you.”
McKenna stood up. “No.” She said. “That can't be done. Even if it could be, I don't want to make things right. I hate him! Do you hear me? I loathe that repulsive reprobate! I want absolutely nothing to do with him! I hope somebody crucifies him.”  With those last words, McKenna turned her back in plans to stalk out of the kitchen. And there he was, “that repulsive reprobate,” listening to her whole speech about him. McKenna didn't care. She was glad he had heard. She didn't even look at him, just continued on her way out of the room.
“Mami,”  McKenna heard on her way up the stairs. “Uh, where could I wash these?” Even his voice sent creepy crawlies down her back. This was not going to be fun!
“Hey, Ash.” McKenna locked her bedroom door and sat against it. She hadn't talked to her best friend, Ashleigh, in ages! “Hello?”
“Yeah, hi, McKenna.” Ashleigh's voice sounded so distant.
“Hi.” McKenna relaxed a little. She inched closer to the outlet in the wall so the charger wouldn't pull out. “I missed you this week. “
“Yeah, I know, I've been, like, kinda busy or whatever.”
“Oh.” McKenna nibbled on her fingernail. “Guess what happened today. You won't believe it- not even Jace did!”
“McKenna, I gotta go. My mom's calling.”
“Oh. Okay. Bye then.” But Ashleigh had already hung up. All that was left was the dial tone. “Arghh!” This time McKenna let her scream out. She pulled off her Converses and threw them at the wall. Thump! Thump!
Her room was really bright and colorful. The walls were fuchsia and the wooden floor was topped with a huge, neon green, fuzzy rug. McKenna's bed was gigantic- it had to be in order to fit all of her pillows and her! The comforters and sheets were hot pink and lime green. Then, there was a pretty neat closet which stored a lot of McKenna's many things.
McKenna changed into her Phineas and Ferb pajamas and sat on her bed with her pillows. She had 23 of them: purple, green, pink, orange, yellow, blue, and red pillows in a bunch of different shapes and sizes. She even had a pillow that was the perfect replica of an ice-cream cone!
Usually, the comfy pillows would calm McKenna down, but she did not want to calm down. She wanted to be angry. McKenna plugged her ipod into the ihome and turned it to the max. Play list? Drake, Lil' Wayne, Nas, Jay-Z. All rap. Songs her grandmother had specifically asked her to listen to with earphones.
Two hours later the doorbell rang. McKenna quietly crept to the top of the stairs to listen.
“Hi,” his voice sounded so awkward. McKenna grinned. “I brought some stuff for Ke- McKenna. She here?”
McKenna hopped down the stairs two at a time and jumped into Jace's arms. She didn't care if that man behind her was watching; she just clung to Jace. Standing behind Jace was Jordan. McKenna hugged him tight also and he kissed her cheek.
“We brought you some pizza,” Jordan said.
“And Pete made you an ice-cream.” Jace smiled and took McKenna's hand. “Six green skittles on the first scoop, six purple skittles on the second, and an orange gummy bear on the top. How come you painted your toe nails black?”
McKenna looked down, curled her toes, and giggled. “I don't know. I felt like it. It's just one of those days.”
“Well, we're gonna get going.” Jordan planted another kiss on the top of McKenna's head. “Take care of yourself, okay, shrimp?”
“Yeah.” McKenna hugged them both again. “You guys are the bestest. Thank you.”
“Friends of yours?” The man asked once McKenna had closed the door behind them. She pretended he wasn't there and walked up the stairs. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't there. He wasn't there and never would be.

CHAPTER THREE
“A dad's job is to make his daughter feel beautiful.”

“I'm going to the store, Mamasita,” Lilliana peeked into her granddaughter's room. “I need to get a few things. I'll be back soon.”
“Huh. Okay,” McKenna muttered into her pillow. Seconds later, her head cleared and she remembered. “Wait, Grammy!” She ran down the stairs to where her grandmother was grabbing her keys. “Wait for me. I'm coming with you.”
“No, Mamasita. I'll be back soon. You'll take too long to get showered and dressed. Alright?” Lilliana leaned over and kissed McKenna's cheek. “And buenos dias to you.”
“Buenos dias,” McKenna mumbled as Grammy left. She couldn't believe her grandmother was leaving her with a man she didn't even know! Well, there were a lot of things she couldn't believe.
After taking a hot shower and dressing in a red hoodie, white jeans, red sneakers, and her customary locket,  McKenna went back downstairs. Fortunately, Grammy was back. Unfortunately, the man was also in the kitchen. Ignoring everybody, McKenna poured herself a bowl of Lucky Charms and Tuscan.
“Mamasita, I didn't hear you say 'good morning' to your father.”
“To who?” McKenna stared at Grammy. At first, Grammy stared right back at her, but gave up when McKenna wouldn't relent.
“To Patrick.”
“That's cuz I didn't.” McKenna continued to eat her cereal. She couldn't ever remember being so blatantly rude to her grandmother, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? Apparently, she was wrong because Grammy pressed two fingers to her temple and winced. “I'm sorry, Abuelita.” She took a deep breath, then, “Good morning,” in the man's general direction.
A few minutes later Grammy spoke in a forced bright tone, “So, I was thinking we could go out today.”
“Oh?” The man said. “Where?”
“The city, maybe.”
“Sounds like fun, Mami.” He responded. “What do you think, McKenna?”

Silence.

“McKenna?” Grammy warned.
“Okay.” McKenna stood up and put her bowl in the sink, completely disgusted. “Grammy, could you please tell him not to speak to me because I do not want to be rude for your sake, but I will not speak to him. I refuse to waste my breath on that man.”
“It's alright, Mami,” He gently touched Lilliana's shoulder. “Don't make her answer.”
McKenna simply rolled her eyes and walked out, yet again. Why couldn't he just disappear? She was so angry at Grammy for demanding so much from her, for him. 'Her father?' The President may as well be her father! Say good morning? Unnecessary. This was all unnecessary! But then she felt like such a sassysquatch.
Within the hour they were all at the subway waiting for the A train. McKenna was listening to her ipod, glad she had charged everything last night- ipad, iphone, and ipod. She so did not want to be there, and guess who Lilliana and the man were talking about. Yup! Her sorry self.
“Mamasita, tell Patrick about your painting for art class.” McKenna pretended she couldn't hear. Grammy sighed and pulled out McKenna's left earbud. “I said to tell Patrick about your painting for art class.”
“I am so fed up with you right now, Grammy.” McKenna glared. “Why do you keep insisting I speak to him? I don't care if he is your son; you talk to him. I don't know him, I don't want to know him, and everything would be fine if you would just keep him away from my face. Or better yet, send him away from my life.”
The look on Grammy's face killed McKenna. She felt bad, but why was Grammy doing this to her? What else did she expect her to do? She was not going to apologize again. When no-one said anything, McKenna sighed inwardly and tried to fix things in the best way she could.
“I did this painting for art class,” she still didn't look at him. “It was a contest. I won.”
“Who judged the artwork?” He asked, continuing the conversation.
“Each student in the high school voted for one.”
“And what did you paint?”
There was a long pause and everybody, including McKenna, thought she wouldn't answer. She surprised herself. “My mother.”
It was so quiet. Grammy squeezed McKenna's hand. “Thank you,” she whispered. To Patrick she said, “McKenna's painting was beautiful. She got an A+ in the class. Then her teacher, Mrs. McDowell, entered her in a city-wide art contest. McKenna won 1st place and made front page in the Daily News.”
“Wow.” He sounded truly awed. “That's great, McKenna. I hope I'll get to see this special painting.” Luckily, the train came then and she didn't have to respond.
They spent the day in the city. It was so terribly awful! Sure, Grammy and the man enjoyed themselves, but McKenna refused to view, comprehend, or consume anything. She had done more than enough for the day.
Once back home, McKenna naturally assumed the worst of the day was over. She was very mistaken.
“Mamasita, let me talk to you a moment.”
“I'm so tired, Grammy. Can't it wait until tomorrow?”
“I'm leaving tomorrow, McKenna.”
“Leaving, going where?” McKenna sat on the bottom stair and looked up at her grandmother. Didn't she think that day had been enough? Didn't she think that entire weekend had been plenty?
“Puerto Rico. Three weeks.”
“Three weeks!” McKenna jumped up. “But I have school, Grammy. So I'm staying next door again, with Ms. Jasmine?”
“No. You're staying here. With your father.”
“What?” McKenna breathed. “You're kidding, right? You have to be. You cannot be serious. You cannot be doing this to me! You cannot hate me that much.” McKenna stopped. “Can she?” She asked herself aloud.
“No, Mamasita. I do not hate you. I cannot hate you.” Lilliana prayed McKenna would understand. Please let her understand!
“Why are you doing this to me?” McKenna turned her face to the wall and sobbed. Seconds later, she felt unfamiliar hands about her shoulders. “Don't touch me!” She glared at him, shaking. “Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me.”
“Mamasita,” Grammy cried for the second time that week. “It is what's best for you.”
“Oh, really. I like how you think you know what's best for me.”
“I know what is better. Mamasita, you need to hear him out- hear what he has to say. I know you do not want to, but you need to.”
“I hate you.”

“McKenna, I am leaving now.” McKenna heard her grandmother, but she pretended to be asleep.  She was not going to speak to her. “I love you so much. I'll call you.” Grammy sounded so sad it almost caused McKenna to get up, but she wouldn't. “T'amo, Mamasita.”

The man seemed to be gone. McKenna searched the house, but she was the only one there. Then, she saw the two notes on the refrigerator.

  Mamasita,
    I know you weren't asleep when I left this morning. I know you are angry with me, and I do not blame you. This is a lot for you to take so suddenly- a lot for me too. So why am I doing this? I know you do not understand. Right now you won't allow yourself to.
Let me try and explain. The reason I left you there with your father (because he is  your father whether or not you admit it) is because I know that I would only be a hindrance to your relationship. With me gone, you will be forced to form something with him. You have no choice. There is no way you can ignore him for three weeks. Something will happen- good or bad.
I would never leave you, my precious granddaughter, with him if I did not trust him. I trust him with you, Mamasita. I would not have left you if I thought this would turn out badly. I believe something muy bien will come of this.
After Arielle died, he fell apart. He became someone I did not know. Not my son. He moved in with me again, but he was never home. Then, one day, he just disappeared. I was so afraid. He was addicted to the drugs and alcohol; he was so sick. After ten years had passed, and you were twelve, I had taken him for dead. Until yesterday morning when he showed up on my doorstep.
He had almost died, Mamasita. But now he is clean, sober, and living once again. Alabado sea Dios!
Talk to him, Mamasita. Don't just shun him. Hear his story and then judge. Maybe his actions cannot be justified, but maybe you can forgive him. Ask him what happened. Ask him why he left you. Ask him why he returned.
Don't worry about your disrespect towards me. I understand. I know you do not hate me. Also, I asked Ms. Jasmine to check on you every so often. You'll be fine.
         T'amo,
          Abuelita

 

There was that. Then there was:

                          
   McKenna~
             Went to church this morning. Didn't think you'd want to come.
    Be back soon.
                                                    Patrick

McKenna scoffed. At least he got that right. She hadn't been to church since she was twelve and probably would never go again.
She sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of Kix and chocolate milk. There were always seven boxes of cereal in the cupboard. You see, McKenna was a very different kind of girl. She didn't mind not eating cold cereal for breakfast, but whenever she did eat cold cereal for breakfast, the days of the week had to match with the kind of cereal and milk. Sunday's cereal was Kix, Monday's was Froot Loops, Tuesday's was Cap'n Crunch, Wednesday's was Rice Krispies, Thursday's was Honeycomb, Friday's was Toasties, and Saturday's was Lucky Charms. And every day was Tuscan except Sunday, which was chocolate milk.
“Hello, McKenna.” He came into the house.
McKenna sighed. He was her Aubela's son- could he really be that bad? “Hi,” she grunted after drinking the remainder of her milk. “Going out.”

CHAPTER FOUR
“There is no need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.”

“Akenna, can you take me to the store?”
McKenna smiled at the familiar lisp of her five-year-old neighbor. “Hey, Kayden.” She hugged him. “Sure, go ask your mom.”
Kayden ran inside and a minute later his mom poked her head out of the door. “McKenna, hi!”
“Hey, Ms. Jasmine!”
“Do you mind?” Ms. Jasmine called. “He wants to get something from the bookstore down the street. I gave him some money; there should be enough for ice pops for the both of you afterward.”
“Sure.” McKenna said. “Let's go, Kayden.”
“Akenna, know what happened yesterday?” Kayden skipped alongside her. “I found a frog outside and Mommy said I can keep it.” McKenna wasn't surprised. Ms. Jasmine was very down-to-earth and loved anything nature. “His name's Moses.”
“Moses?” McKenna laughed. “Why Moses?”
“We learnt about Moses in Sunday School so today I named him that.”
“You learned about Moses.”
“Yeah. How come you never come to Sunday School, Akenna? And in church we seed a man Mommy said is your daddy.”
“Oh.”
“I didn't know you had a daddy,” Kayden beamed up at her, “My daddy lives in Long Island. Mommy said I can't go anymore acuz he does bad things like smoking and its bad for the 'vironment and his 'partment is messy. He's mean. He yells if you wet the bed.”
“Your Mommy is very good.” McKenna grabbed Kayden's hand as they crossed the street and stepped into the bookstore. What was displayed in the front caused McKenna to stop dead in her tracks.  “Look, Akenna!” Kayden pulled at her excitedly. “That's the man we seed in church!”
“I know.” McKenna murmured, still gazing at the huge banner. It was stretched across two tables and said PATRICK SKYE- EVERY LITTLE PRINCESS. It also had a picture of him holding a book. One of the very books that were stacked on the tables.
“They're on sale- $12. 99,” said the bald man who was standing behind the tables. “And each is autographed by Patrick Skye himself!”
“I'm fine.” McKenna said. She didn't even want to look at the book. What did he, of all men on this earth, know about little princesses? Or maybe she hadn't qualified as a princess. Well, she didn't care. Princesses were superficial and shallow anyways.
“What does it say, Akenna?”
McKenna blinked. She had forgotten Kayden was beside her.  “It says Every Little Princess.”
“Oh. Let's look at another book.” Kayden pulled McKenna away from the display. “That one is too big.”

Sunday had to be the longest day of the week! Normally, McKenna would make paella with her grandmother, but today that wasn't feasible. There was nothing else to do either. Sunday was Ashleigh's family day, so she had to spend time with her mother, step-father, sisters, and half-brothers. Tiara, another one of McKenna's friends, was upstate to spend the weekend with her mother. This left McKenna with only one other option: Jace.
“Are you guys doing something or anything?”
“Something or anything?” Jordan laughed and pulled McKenna into the house. “Not really. Jace isn't here though.”
“Aww.” McKenna stuck out her bottom lip to show her disappointment. “Where did he go? It's Sunday- family day.”
Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but when Dad's not even around for Sunday I don't have the heart to make him stay in.”
“He's working overtime again.” McKenna stated. She hopped up on the kitchen counter. “That makes me really sad for you guys.”
“I'm fine. I just worry about Jace.” Jordan sat next to McKenna on the counter.
“Can I spend the night, Jordan?” McKenna turned to him pleadingly. “Pretty please? Then me and Jace can go to school together in the morning.”
“I guess if your grandma don't have a problem. But you're gonna have to find Jace; I'm leaving for work in the next hour, and I don't want to leave you here alone.”
“Grammy went to Puerto Rico. For three weeks.”
“Three weeks? Dang. You with Ms. Jaz?”
“Watch your language, Jordan,” McKenna giggled. “We have minors in the room. No, she left me in the house with her son.”
“Oh-oh,” Jordan said. “And I take it he doesn't know where you are right now. Does he?”
“So what.”
“C'mon,” Jordan stood and lifted McKenna down from the counter. “I'll walk you back. Honestly, I don't like the guy myself, but I would guess your grandma knows him better than the rest of us. Me, especially. I moved here after he left.”
“Well, I remember him and I do not like him.”
Jordan snorted. “You do not remember him, McKenna. How old are you, sixteen?”
“Fifteen and three quarters. And I do remember what's important. I remember that he left me before I was even old enough to remember what's not important. He left me even before I fully memorized his face or voice. He just left me without a legit reason. And after all that, I don't need to remember anything else about him.”
“That's exactly why I don't like him.” They stopped in front of McKenna's powder blue house. “He's not just some guy I don't know. He's some guy I don't know who hurt my shrimp.”
“That's sweet, Jordan,” McKenna smiled at him.
“Time to go inside.”
“Oh brother,” she rolled her eyes. “I wish I could see Jace but I guess I'll see him tomorrow. Or I'll text him. Or maybe he'll text me.”
'Or maybe not,' thought Jordan, but he just smiled and said goodbye.

“Where have you been?”
He scared McKenna, waiting by the door like that, but she didn't show it. Instead, she ignored him and walked into the kitchen to get something to eat. The man followed her.
“Next time you need to tell me where you're going. I'm sure your grandmother doesn't allow you to be out on the streets without her knowing where you are.”
“First of all,” McKenna turned to him, “I wasn't out on the streets. Secondly, you are not my grandmother.” She wanted to ignore him, pretend he was invisible, but she couldn't. She could ignore annoying people, mean people, loud people. But she could not- and would not- ignore people who told her what to do. Especially those who had no right or authority whatsoever to do so.
“I made some spaghetti for dinner,” the man changed the subject. He better had.
“I do not like spaghetti.” McKenna lied. Truthfully, besides pizza, pasta was her favorite food. She opened a sleeve of pop tarts and slid them both in the toaster. Grammy would appalled to see her eating those for dinner, but she was left with no choice. The only dinner food she knew how to make was pasta and she had just told the man she didn't like it.
As she turned to the fridge to find some milk, McKenna noticed a highlighted list on the wall beneath the cabinet.

McKenna's Favorite Foods:

Pasta- any kind [baked ziti, lasagna, spaghetti (butter, garlic, cheese, meat sauce)]
Tacos
Quesadillas
Paella
Mexican rice with vegetables
Bacon
Sausage
Scrambled eggs with cheese
Peanut butter, Nutella, and marshmallow crème sandwiches
Fried tomato and turkey sandwiches

DO NOT:
Use basil or cloves
Put chicken in anything

WHEN IN DOUBT:
Cold Cereal
Pizza
'Ugh, Grammy, you just had to!' McKenna thought. Now he knew she was lying. Her grandmother was not helping the cause at all.
“So, McKenna.” The man broke the silence. McKenna wished the drugs had burnt out his lungs, making it impossible for him to speak. He seemed to not grasp the point: She did not want to talk to him! “You'll need me to drive you to school in the morning?”
“No.”
“You take the bus?” The man persisted.
“Listen.” McKenna was annoyed. “ I do not want to talk to you. The only reason I have been polite is for Grammy's sake. Do not press your luck. Nothing you do or say will ever make me like you.”
The kitchen was so quiet. McKenna felt bad, but he deserved that and worse. He just stood there looking at her. Staring at her. She put her left hand on her hip, narrowed her eyes, and stared right back. Seconds passed, long seconds.
“Alright,” he said. And blinked first.
McKenna sat at the table and nibbled at her cinnamon pop tart. She wasn't hungry anymore. Actually, she felt sick.  Apologizing to the starving children in Africa, McKenna tossed the pop tarts in the garbage. It made no sense to save them for tomorrow; they would be stale.
She wanted to go to her room, but she made no effort to get up. This was going to be a very long three weeks. McKenna groaned. And she was out of school the next week for spring break! Could life get any worse? 'Yes,' she decided an hour later when Jace still hadn't texted her back, 'it really could,'
The living room door made a squeaky sound when McKenna pushed it open. She held her breath, then relaxed once she realized the man didn't hear her. He could not hear her for he was crying too hard. He was seated on the couch, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. The cries came from his heart as those from a wounded animal. McKenna was embarrassed to be witnessing this grown man cry like a little child. Still, she stepped forward.
“I didn't mean I don't like you like I hate you,” McKenna stammered. She wasn't a very strong person; not strong enough to scorn someone who was crying. “I mean, I do, but I just meant...”
Patrick looked up through his hazed eyes. He first saw her little feet that he could remember kissing so many years ago. They were still the same, just larger and with painted nails. His eyes traveled upward over her gray sweat suit- she was so tall and slim. Then, he mustered the courage to look up into her face. It was still beautiful, just like her mother's.
As he watched, McKenna's long, dark lashes (courtesy of him) swept across her cheeks when she blinked her large, dark eyes (also his). She made a short, huffy sound and rolled her eyes. It made him want to smile. The next thing he knew, McKenna was sitting on the other end of the couch.
“What's wrong with you,” she demanded. “Why are you crying? Cuz you're stuck here with me?”
“No,” he laughed. “If anything, cuz you're stuck here with me!”
“Well, you know, I feel the very same way,” McKenna shrugged. “I guess I can sympathize.” He had a nice laugh, McKenna admitted. Okay then, she had done her duty as a citizen. He was fine, and apparently, he wasn't about to tell her the cause of his tears. She got up to leave.
“McKenna, please.” She turned towards him slightly, unwilling to show her face again. “Please let me talk to you.”
“No.” She blurted. Just then her phone buzzed. She smiled, thinking it was Jace, but it was just the quote of the day from Dictionary.com.

“A strong nation, like a strong person, can afford to be gentle, firm, thoughtful, and rest...”
          Jimmy Carter

“No,” she said again, softer this time, “Not yet.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR
“There is no need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.”

“Akenna, can you take me to the store?”
McKenna smiled at the familiar lisp of her five-year-old neighbor. “Hey, Kayden.” She hugged him. “Sure, go ask your mom.”
Kayden ran inside and a minute later his mom poked her head out of the door. “McKenna, hi!”
“Hey, Ms. Jasmine!”
“Do you mind?” Ms. Jasmine called. “He wants to get something from the bookstore down the street. I gave him some money; there should be enough for ice pops for the both of you afterward.”
“Sure.” McKenna said. “Let's go, Kayden.”
“Akenna, know what happened yesterday?” Kayden skipped alongside her. “I found a frog outside and Mommy said I can keep it.” McKenna wasn't surprised. Ms. Jasmine was very down-to-earth and loved anything nature. “His name's Moses.”
“Moses?” McKenna laughed. “Why Moses?”
“We learnt about Moses in Sunday School so today I named him that.”
“You learned about Moses.”
“Yeah. How come you never come to Sunday School, Akenna? And in church we seed a man Mommy said is your daddy.”
“Oh.”
“I didn't know you had a daddy,” Kayden beamed up at her, “My daddy lives in Long Island. Mommy said I can't go anymore acuz he does bad things like smoking and its bad for the 'vironment and his 'partment is messy. He's mean. He yells if you wet the bed.”
“Your Mommy is very good.” McKenna grabbed Kayden's hand as they crossed the street and stepped into the bookstore. What was displayed in the front caused McKenna to stop dead in her tracks.  “Look, Akenna!” Kayden pulled at her excitedly. “That's the man we seed in church!”
“I know.” McKenna murmured, still gazing at the huge banner. It was stretched across two tables and said PATRICK SKYE- EVERY LITTLE PRINCESS. It also had a picture of him holding a book. One of the very books that were stacked on the tables.
“They're on sale- $12. 99,” said the bald man who was standing behind the tables. “And each is autographed by Patrick Skye himself!”
“I'm fine.” McKenna said. She didn't even want to look at the book. What did he, of all men on this earth, know about little princesses? Or maybe she hadn't qualified as a princess. Well, she didn't care. Princesses were superficial and shallow anyways.
“What does it say, Akenna?”
McKenna blinked. She had forgotten Kayden was beside her.  “It says Every Little Princess.”
“Oh. Let's look at another book.” Kayden pulled McKenna away from the display. “That one is too big.”

Sunday had to be the longest day of the week! Normally, McKenna would make paella with her grandmother, but today that wasn't feasible. There was nothing else to do either. Sunday was Ashleigh's family day, so she had to spend time with her mother, step-father, sisters, and half-brothers. Tiara, another one of McKenna's friends, was upstate to spend the weekend with her mother. This left McKenna with only one other option: Jace.
“Are you guys doing something or anything?”
“Something or anything?” Jordan laughed and pulled McKenna into the house. “Not really. Jace isn't here though.”
“Aww.” McKenna stuck out her bottom lip to show her disappointment. “Where did he go? It's Sunday- family day.”
Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but when Dad's not even around for Sunday I don't have the heart to make him stay in.”
“He's working overtime again.” McKenna stated. She hopped up on the kitchen counter. “That makes me really sad for you guys.”
“I'm fine. I just worry about Jace.” Jordan sat next to McKenna on the counter.
“Can I spend the night, Jordan?” McKenna turned to him pleadingly. “Pretty please? Then me and Jace can go to school together in the morning.”
“I guess if your grandma don't have a problem. But you're gonna have to find Jace; I'm leaving for work in the next hour, and I don't want to leave you here alone.”
“Grammy went to Puerto Rico. For three weeks.”
“Three weeks? Dang. You with Ms. Jaz?”
“Watch your language, Jordan,” McKenna giggled. “We have minors in the room. No, she left me in the house with her son.”
“Oh-oh,” Jordan said. “And I take it he doesn't know where you are right now. Does he?”
“So what.”
“C'mon,” Jordan stood and lifted McKenna down from the counter. “I'll walk you back. Honestly, I don't like the guy myself, but I would guess your grandma knows him better than the rest of us. Me, especially. I moved here after he left.”
“Well, I remember him and I do not like him.”
Jordan snorted. “You do not remember him, McKenna. How old are you, sixteen?”
“Fifteen and three quarters. And I do remember what's important. I remember that he left me before I was even old enough to remember what's not important. He left me even before I fully memorized his face or voice. He just left me without a legit reason. And after all that, I don't need to remember anything else about him.”
“That's exactly why I don't like him.” They stopped in front of McKenna's powder blue house. “He's not just some guy I don't know. He's some guy I don't know who hurt my shrimp.”
“That's sweet, Jordan,” McKenna smiled at him.
“Time to go inside.”
“Oh brother,” she rolled her eyes. “I wish I could see Jace but I guess I'll see him tomorrow. Or I'll text him. Or maybe he'll text me.”
'Or maybe not,' thought Jordan, but he just smiled and said goodbye.

“Where have you been?”
He scared McKenna, waiting by the door like that, but she didn't show it. Instead, she ignored him and walked into the kitchen to get something to eat. The man followed her.
“Next time you need to tell me where you're going. I'm sure your grandmother doesn't allow you to be out on the streets without her knowing where you are.”
“First of all,” McKenna turned to him, “I wasn't out on the streets. Secondly, you are not my grandmother.” She wanted to ignore him, pretend he was invisible, but she couldn't. She could ignore annoying people, mean people, loud people. But she could not- and would not- ignore people who told her what to do. Especially those who had no right or authority whatsoever to do so.
“I made some spaghetti for dinner,” the man changed the subject. He better had.
“I do not like spaghetti.” McKenna lied. Truthfully, besides pizza, pasta was her favorite food. She opened a sleeve of pop tarts and slid them both in the toaster. Grammy would appalled to see her eating those for dinner, but she was left with no choice. The only dinner food she knew how to make was pasta and she had just told the man she didn't like it.
As she turned to the fridge to find some milk, McKenna noticed a highlighted list on the wall beneath the cabinet.

McKenna's Favorite Foods:

Pasta- any kind [baked ziti, lasagna, spaghetti (butter, garlic, cheese, meat sauce)]
Tacos
Quesadillas
Paella
Mexican rice with vegetables
Bacon
Sausage
Scrambled eggs with cheese
Peanut butter, Nutella, and marshmallow crème sandwiches
Fried tomato and turkey sandwiches

DO NOT:
Use basil or cloves
Put chicken in anything

WHEN IN DOUBT:
Cold Cereal
Pizza
'Ugh, Grammy, you just had to!' McKenna thought. Now he knew she was lying. Her grandmother was not helping the cause at all.
“So, McKenna.” The man broke the silence. McKenna wished the drugs had burnt out his lungs, making it impossible for him to speak. He seemed to not grasp the point: She did not want to talk to him! “You'll need me to drive you to school in the morning?”
“No.”
“You take the bus?” The man persisted.
“Listen.” McKenna was annoyed. “ I do not want to talk to you. The only reason I have been polite is for Grammy's sake. Do not press your luck. Nothing you do or say will ever make me like you.”
The kitchen was so quiet. McKenna felt bad, but he deserved that and worse. He just stood there looking at her. Staring at her. She put her left hand on her hip, narrowed her eyes, and stared right back. Seconds passed, long seconds.
“Alright,” he said. And blinked first.
McKenna sat at the table and nibbled at her cinnamon pop tart. She wasn't hungry anymore. Actually, she felt sick.  Apologizing to the starving children in Africa, McKenna tossed the pop tarts in the garbage. It made no sense to save them for tomorrow; they would be stale.
She wanted to go to her room, but she made no effort to get up. This was going to be a very long three weeks. McKenna groaned. And she was out of school the next week for spring break! Could life get any worse? 'Yes,' she decided an hour later when Jace still hadn't texted her back, 'it really could,'
The living room door made a squeaky sound when McKenna pushed it open. She held her breath, then relaxed once she realized the man didn't hear her. He could not hear her for he was crying too hard. He was seated on the couch, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. The cries came from his heart as those from a wounded animal. McKenna was embarrassed to be witnessing this grown man cry like a little child. Still, she stepped forward.
“I didn't mean I don't like you like I hate you,” McKenna stammered. She wasn't a very strong person; not strong enough to scorn someone who was crying. “I mean, I do, but I just meant...”
Patrick looked up through his hazed eyes. He first saw her little feet that he could remember kissing so many years ago. They were still the same, just larger and with painted nails. His eyes traveled upward over her gray sweat suit- she was so tall and slim. Then, he mustered the courage to look up into her face. It was still beautiful, just like her mother's.
As he watched, McKenna's long, dark lashes (courtesy of him) swept across her cheeks when she blinked her large, dark eyes (also his). She made a short, huffy sound and rolled her eyes. It made him want to smile. The next thing he knew, McKenna was sitting on the other end of the couch.
“What's wrong with you,” she demanded. “Why are you crying? Cuz you're stuck here with me?”
“No,” he laughed. “If anything, cuz you're stuck here with me!”
“Well, you know, I feel the very same way,” McKenna shrugged. “I guess I can sympathize.” He had a nice laugh, McKenna admitted. Okay then, she had done her duty as a citizen. He was fine, and apparently, he wasn't about to tell her the cause of his tears. She got up to leave.
“McKenna, please.” She turned towards him slightly, unwilling to show her face again. “Please let me talk to you.”
“No.” She blurted. Just then her phone buzzed. She smiled, thinking it was Jace, but it was just the quote of the day from Dictionary.com.

“A strong nation, like a strong person, can afford to be gentle, firm, thoughtful, and rest...”
          Jimmy Carter

“No,” she said again, softer this time, “Not yet.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE
“His leaving wasn't about you. It was about him.”

“McKenna, hey.” Tiara slung her arm through McKenna's own.
“Tiara, the bell rang not one minute ago. How did you get here so fast?”
“Here, walk with me.” Tiara pulled her away from the direction of the lockers to the door. “I got out a few minutes early. My brother's picking me up.”
“Tristan? How come?”
“Courtney, his girlfriend, wants me to come shopping with her. Stuff for the baby. So I gotta go. But I just wanted to tell you to call me. If you need to, I mean. My phone's on.”
“Okay.” McKenna scrunched her eyebrows. That was weird, but Tiara was already down the steps.
“McKenna!” Tiara called up. “You know your jeans are falling down?”
“Yeah,” laughed McKenna, pulling them up with both hands. “Everybody's telling me that today. I guess I lost weight or whatever.”
“Alright, bye!” McKenna watched Tiara climb into her brother's pickup and kiss his cheek.
“Kenny, I was looking for you,” Jace jogged up the stairs to where she was standing. He hugged her quickly and pulled away. Just then, Ashleigh came out of the school's double doors.
“Got a minute, McKenna?” Jace walked over to Ashleigh and she hissed in his ear. “I thought you wanted me to tell her.”
“Didn't we agree that I would tell her?”
“Yeah, no.” Ashleigh smacked her forehead. “I should tell her since I'm her best friend. But maybe you should tell her.”
“Tell me what?” McKenna pushed her way between her best friend and her boyfriend. They looked at her guiltily. McKenna folded her arms over her chest. “Tell me.”
“Let's just tell her together, Jace,” Ashleigh said.
“Alright,” Jace started down the stairs. “But lets walk.” Confused, McKenna followed them. A few minutes later he cleared his throat, “McKenna, I...”
“You what?” McKenna looked at Jace. When he looked away from her, she dropped her gaze on Ashleigh. “Just tell me. I mean, what's the big deal?”
“Jace,” Ashleigh put her hand on Jace's arm, “let me tell her.” As she looked at Ashleigh's manicured hand on her Jace's freckled arm, a sickening feeling crept into McKenna's stomach. “McKenna. Jace and I are going out.”
“What?” McKenna voice cracked. She stopped walking. “What?”
“Yeah,” Ashleigh said. Jace stared at the ground.
“Jace, you were cheating on me? How long?” McKenna groaned. “How long have you been cheating on me?”
“McKenna,” Ashleigh sighed. “Jace didn't cheat on you. What happened was... I liked him. I like him. But I just ignored it cuz, I mean, he's your boyfriend. Was your boyfriend. But I liked him a lot, and I could tell he felt it too, so I told him. And I was right, he liked me. So we wanted to go out, but we had to tell you. We didn't want to hurt you.”
“Okay.” McKenna looked at Jace, but he still refused to look at her. “Okay.”
“McKenna,” Ashleigh said in the most pitiful, sympathetic voice. “That doesn't mean he doesn't love you anymore.”
“No?” McKenna laughed shakily. “I suppose it just means he loves you instead.” Then, with both Ashleigh and Jace calling after her, McKenna took off down the street. She would not let them see her cry.
McKenna was winded by the time she got to her house on Dougherty. She unlocked the house, noticing the man's car wasn't in the drive. 'Good,' she thought, 'I hope he stays gone.' The stairs were such a hard climb, but when finally at the top, McKenna went in her room and locked the door behind herself.
She placed her shoes by the door, set her bag beside them, and entered the closet. This was the coolest thing about her room. No, not the closet. The secret room behind the closet. At thirteen, McKenna had been in the closet, trying to organize it. She noticed that the paint on the bottom of the back wall was a shade lighter than the rest. When she pushed at it, a good portion of the wall fell back and McKenna was able to climb through the space there into an entirely different room.
It had reminded McKenna of the Holocaust and Corrie Ten Boom. That's why she had called this secret room her 'Hiding Place.' No-one knew about it, not Grammy, Ashleigh, Tiara, or Jace. Whenever things got really bad or she just needed her own space, McKenna stayed there.
Three months after finding the room, she had completely furnished it. The ocean blue and sea foam green walls were painted as waves and she had carpeted the room herself with help from Google. She had a few beanbags on the floor as well as pillows. There were seven handmade shelves on one wall for her books, art supplies, and junk food. Yes, the room was kind of cramped, but it was very cozy.
Now McKenna curled up on the carpet and squeezed her eyes shut. Her head was pounding. She had never imagined this would happen. How could this have happened! McKenna stuffed her face in the nearest pillow and sobbed. Thanks a lot, Jace. And you too, Ashleigh. These people were supposed to be her friends!
In just a weekend her world had come crashing down. She was so destroyed! Grammy had gone off to Puerto Rico and left her with this son-of-a... Well, no, because that would make Grammy a... Yeah. But still! She couldn't believe this was happening to her! She couldn't even visit Jordan because Jace lived there, and she couldn't talk to her best friend because her best friend was Ashleigh!
McKenna was furious. With herself for not seeing this coming, with her grandmother for leaving her here, with him for coming back, with her mother for dying, with Jace and Ashleigh, and with God! This was totally and completely unfair. Ashleigh already had everything in the world and now she wanted McKenna's boyfriend.
Ashleigh Smith was the prettiest girl in their high school. She was also the most popular and put together. Her hair was always perfect, makeup and nails too. Her mother was always around when Ashleigh needed her and they were forever doing “mother and daughter things.” Although Ashleigh's biological father had left her, her step-father just filled in the blank! He was right there and Ashleigh might as well have been his own blood daughter. Whatever Ashleigh needed was always supplied. But she still had to take the one thing McKenna had that she didn't.
McKenna cried for hours. She cried until she thought her head would split in pieces. Then, she fell into a turmoiled sleep.
“Princess? McKenna?” His voice was so soft McKenna barely heard it. But she did. She blinked and struggled to sit up. Her head hurt so much you would think she had been drinking all night.
“How did you get in here?” McKenna demanded.
The man closed the little door behind himself and sat against the wall. “Well, your bedroom door was locked so I picked it. I'm sorry.”
“No,” McKenna coughed into her sleeve. “I mean, how did you get in here.” She gestured to the area about her.
“Oh, well, this place is no secret to me.”
McKenna glared at him. “So how did you know I was even in the house? I could have been out someplace.”
“The same guys who came here Friday stopped by again. They said you had been upset and ran off. So I hoped that if you weren't with them you would be here.”
“Oh.” McKenna began to think. Jace and Jordan. Probably Jordan had known this whole time too. Even if Jace hadn't told him; Jordan knew everything. “How come you knew about this room?” she asked the man.
“Your room now was my room when I was a kid.” He explained. “I found the room one day just as I imagine you did. Don't worry. Nobody else knows.”
“Yeah, except you,” McKenna sniffled. Gone was her sanctuary, her hiding place.
“Here, look.” The man handed her his phone. “Your grandmother is calling for you. I told her to call back in a few minutes.”
“H-hello?” McKenna said. “Grammy?”
“Mamasita, how are you!” Lilliana exclaimed over the phone. “I called earlier, but you weren't home. How have you been?”
“I'm okay.” Considering how you left me here with this man.
“Muy bien,” McKenna could her hear smiling in the phone. “See? I knew everything would be fine. Look, Ma Bella, I have to go. I'll call again soon, alright?” And then she was gone, so fast, before McKenna could even say 'I love you.'
“What's wrong?” The man asked when McKenna burst into tears. He stood, uncertain if he should come closer.
“N-nothing,” McKenna hiccuped. She reached behind her for a tissue. “Here's your phone.” She handed it to him with a quivering hand.
“McKenna,” he came a couple of inches (maybe centimeters) closer and squatted in front of her. “Did I do something? Did I make you cry? I didn't mean to.”
“You can't make me cry,” McKenna lied. “You could never do anything to make me cry. Nobody can make me cry. I only cry when I want to cry. Nobody can make me do anything I do not want to do.”
The man smiled. He had nice teeth, lined up neatly, like hers.
“How come you called me princess?” McKenna asked suddenly.
“Huh?” The man blinked.
“When you came in here. When I was sleeping. I heard you call me princess. Remember?”
“I don't remember. I guess I just did it out of habit. When you were little I used to call you that all the time. You know how Mami calls you Mamasita like it's your given name? I called you Princess.”
“How come?” McKenna hiccuped.
“You really want to know?”
“Well, duh.” McKenna said, sitting in an Indian position. “Why do you think I asked you?”
The man laughed. “Okay. It's really simple. When you were born, I was in Florida for a three-day writer's workshop. I had planned to be back a week before your due date, but, needless to say, you came early. So I took the next flight in to New York. I came in the hospital like 'Where's my baby? Which one's mine?' The nurse and yo- your mom,” he cleared his throat, “brought me to the nursery. And Arielle said, 'Hun, guess which one is your princess.' So I looked through the glass, chose a dark-haired little girl, and said, 'That one. That one's my princess.'”
“And you guessed wrong, didn't you?” McKenna laughed.
“Hey! Why would you think that?”
“You did!” McKenna said. “You chose the wrong baby.”
“Yeah,” the man admitted. “I did.”
“Did you want that little girl?” McKenna turned her face into the pillow. “You wanted that one for your princess? I wasn't “royal” enough? Is that why you left me?”
“No. McKenna, no.” All the mirth drained from his face. He groaned. “McKenna, please don't cry. Why are you crying?”
“Not because of you.” McKenna half-lied. “It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Then, why the tears?”
“None of your business.” But he had been really nice, McKenna conceded. Maybe he wasn't all that bad. Unless he was just trying to trick her. But maybe he wasn't. “My boyfriend broke up with me, today. We were all walking together and my best friend told me that she and my boyfriend are going out. Well, technically, according to them, they weren't 'going out,' they just 'liked each other' and just now made it official. He didn't even say anything to me! He just decided to like my best friend and dump me.”
  The man said a curse word. He shook his head. “Wow, that's really messed up.”
McKenna blew her nose loudly. “What is it with you grown-ups! Watch your language.”
“Sorry.”
“And you know what's so messed up about it all? I would never have guessed this was coming! But now as I'm thinking about it, I should have guessed something! Cuz for weeks Ashleigh's been avoiding me in the hallways, ignoring my texts and phone calls... I guess maybe she felt guilty or whatever. And Jace too; he's been acting so weird. I mean he's still been sweet- bringing me pizza on Friday- but he's been doing stuff, then being all flustered. But I never thought this...”
“Your boyfriend, Jace, is the boy who came here on Friday?”
“Yeah. He came with his brother, Jordan. And I bet Jordan knew too! Not that Jace told him or anything; Jordan just knows us so well. Yesterday when he walked me home, he made some kind of weird face when I said something about Jace texting me. I feel so stupid.” McKenna swiped at her eyes so she could look at her phone. “And Tiara knew too. All this time. She just texted me and asked if I was okay. Like, for real? Am I so blind everyone saw this but me?”
“McKenna...”
“No! Don't McKenna me. You're just as bad as Jace! What is it with you stupid people? Or is it me, huh? Is that it? Something's wrong with me! Is that why everybody just keeps leaving me?”
“No, McKenna.” He felt so bad. She was right. Everyone did keep leaving her. But it wasn't because of anything she had done; it was their wrong, not hers. He watched as she curled herself into a ball. His first instincts were to hold her, but his second instincts told him he shouldn't. Instead, he sat there and painfully watched McKenna break.
She was speaking, but he couldn't comprehend her words. Most likely, the words weren't even meant for him. McKenna rocked back and forth and back and forth until her cries lessened, then dissipated, and were replaced by soft breaths. She was asleep.
He rose up from the ground, tiptoed over, and bent to look at her. She was so beautiful. So beautiful he dared not touch her. He backed up towards the door. McKenna rolled over and sighed. He closed his eyes and did the same.
“I'm sorry, Princess,” Patrick whispered.

CHAPTER SIX
“The main reason why a daughter needs a dad is to show her that not all the boys are like the ones who hurt her.”

 

“I don't cry.” McKenna felt the need to inform Patrick. “It's just that last night I was pretty exhausted, and everything was just pent up inside of me.” He nodded and kept his eyes downcast. McKenna did not know what was wrong with him- yesterday he couldn't stop talking and today he couldn't speak. Well, she preferred him quiet anyway.
“Do I need to write you a note for your absence today?” Patrick asked from where he was seated at the computer.
“Yeah.” she said. She looked down at her phone. Both Jace and Ashleigh were blowing it up. They wanted to know why she hadn't been in school, if she was okay, what she was doing, should they stop by. Jace wanted to make sure she knew that what had happened was in no way her fault. Ashleigh wanted to know if she hated her. Before McKenna could decide whether to respond, the doorbell rang.
Seeing through the peephole that it was Jordan, McKenna opened the door and slipped outside. “Jordan,” she gave him a slight smile. “Hi.”
“Hey McKenna,” he said, her full name sounding foreign on his tongue. He sat on the step and beckoned for her to sit beside him. “I figured you weren't gonna come to me, so I came to you.”
She sighed, “You knew, Jordan, didn't you.” It wasn't even a question.
“Yes, of course I knew, but it wasn't my place to tell you. Jace didn't even tell me; his behavior was just different, and I know my kid brother, so I asked him. He knows better than to lie to me.”
“I'm so messed up,” McKenna whispered. “Like, here I am, ready to commit my whole life to him and boom, I get this. I feel so betrayed, Jordan, you know? Like, my best friends in the world just up and left me in the hardest time of my life. Now is the time I need them more than ever, and they just threw this at me. I feel like, what did I do to deserve this? Am I such an awful person? Am I, Jordan?”
“No, shrimp.” Jordan shook his head vehemently. “To be honest, I have no idea what's going on with Jace right now. It could be he just got hit by the whole mom gone/ dad working thing. But there's one thing I can tell you, and that is that he did not want to hurt you.”
“He did, though.” McKenna drew in a sharp breath, “I feel like he cut my heart out of my chest, drove a motorcycle over it, and shoved it back inside of me. I don't even want to be alive right now!”
Jordan reached over and tugged McKenna into his arms. She was so strong, sitting there without shedding a tear. He squeezed her tightly and rocked her back and forth. 'Please, God,' he mouthed to the darkening sky, 'Give her a break. The kid's been through enough.'

 

After Jordan left, McKenna stayed on the steps a few minutes longer. Then, in a split second, she decided she wasn't going back in the house. Instead, she took off down the street and caught the local bus to downtown. Who cared if Patrick didn't know where she was? She hadn't known where he was for years.
“Jace.” McKenna breathed heavily into the phone. “It's McKenna. No, I don't hate you, but I do feel like you betrayed me. It's like you were leading me on. It hurts to know that all last week, when we were kissing in your room, you were thinking of kissing somebody else. And you see? The petals don't lie. Friday it ended on love me not, and three days later it proved true. But whatever. I don't need you.” McKenna played back the message to herself and then sent it.
She got off the bus, walked a few blocks, then stopped in front of Harry Fletcher's house. He was a senior in her school; he always had some sort of party going on in his house. Grammy would ground her eternally if she ever found out she was there. Jordan would lay her over his lap and beat her. Tiara would strangle her. But none of these people were around right now so she really didn't care.
The music was so loud McKenna couldn't hear herself think. She felt incredibly out of place here. It was her first time ever being in such an environment. First of all, it was jam-packed with hot, sweaty bodies. And it stank like armpits and fungi. There was naked skin everywhere; she, in a belly shirt and booty shorts, was the most covered of everyone.
McKenna's first instinct was to back up and leave, but then she spotted one of the guys from her English period waving her over. Both relieved and flustered, McKenna made her way over to where he was standing. “Hey, Nelson,” she said.
“Yo, McKenna,” he laughed. “Never thought your grandma would let you outta that coop, man!”
“No, I'm kinda with my dad right now,” she winced at his hot breath on her cheek.
“Oh, cool. Hey,” He pulled her aside. “I heard you and Jace broke up, man,”
“Yeah.” McKenna looked down at her toes; this was getting pretty uncomfortable.
“He's stupid. Know why? Cuz nobody smart gives up a real diamond for a plastic one.” He shook his head, “C'mon, let's get you a drink. What you want?”
“Um, a sprite?”
Nelson Miles laughed so hard spit flew out of his mouth and landed four feet away. “You're funny, McKenna. I like you. But for real, what you want?”
“I'll have,” McKenna drew in a deep breath, “a beer on tap, please.”
McKenna felt exposed in a way she hadn't felt before. Nelson had long slipped away, so she was dancing a little in the crowd. It wasn't embarrassing to her because she knew she could dance, and dance well. She was feeling very shy amongst these strangers, but only one thing really kept her from getting completely comfortable.
A few guys were acting really vulgar and doing inappropriate things. They had passed McKenna and one slapped her backside. She wasn't the only one he did it to, but the other girls had laughed. Maybe they were used to it; no one had ever done such a thing to McKenna. She's seen it in school all the time, but since 4th grade she'd always been with someone, and the guys she knew wouldn't do that to someone else's girl.
When she was tired of dancing, McKenna perched on the edge of a vacant couch, debating in her mind whether she should head home or not.
“Mind if I sit here?” A tall boy with clear brown eyes stood before her.
“Yeah... no,” McKenna breathed, staring unabashedly into his eyes. “You can sit.”
He smiled, showing neatly spaced, white teeth. “Thanks.” He sat enough inches from her that he wasn't in her personal space. “So... I haven't seen you around before. I'm Elliot.”
“Hi.” Her stomach began to tingle and she bit back a nervous giggle. “I'm McKenna. And yeah. I've never been to a party before. Well, I have, like, a birthday party, or a sleepover party, or... Sorry, I'm rambling.” Inwardly, McKenna kicked herself repeatedly.
He laughed, nicely, not in a mean way. “It's fine. I like listening to you.”
“Really?” She stopped. Smiled. Frowned. Looked up into his eyes. Did he mean that?
“Yeah.” His hand slid over and gently took McKenna's. “I like you, McKenna. Tell me about yourself.”
A shiver ran down her back. “Well, what do you want to know?”

Four hours of talking- and drinking- later, McKenna felt dizzy, wobbly, and her head felt near splitting. She was sitting on Elliot's lap with his hand warm on her belly. “It's so loud in here,” she moaned.
“Want to get out of the noise?” Elliot offered. When McKenna nodded, he helped her stand and led her to one of the bedrooms in the back of the house. McKenna was too blurred to notice that he had locked the door behind them.
Elliot pulled McKenna down onto the bed beside him. As she looked up at him through red eyes,  he dropped his mouth onto hers. She struggled for breath as he worked at the clasp behind her. It felt so good to not be able think. It felt so good to be drowning. It felt amazing.

CHAPTER SEVEN
“GUNS don't kill people; DADS with pretty daughters do.”

“Get up.” A voice pierced through McKenna's haze. Then, a cold hand was on her back, helping her sit up. She struggled against it, but it was stronger than she was. “Open your eyes.” The voice commanded again. She obeyed and opening her eyelids was like peeling glue off a wooden surface. At first she didn't see anything. Then, squinting her eyes in the dark, she made out Jordan's face hovering above her.
“J-” she tried to speak. Her throat was dry and raw.
“Put this on.” He threw her underwear and clothes at her. McKenna felt her face flame up as he turned away from her.
Once outside, McKenna would have fallen to the ground if Jordan hadn't been holding on to her. He held her hair up as she puked out her guts into a nearby rhododendron plant. With a grim expression, Jordan helped her sip some water from a Poland Spring bottle. Then, he took off his Old Navy sweater and zipped it around her.
“T-Thanks,” she chattered.
In his truck, Jordan turned the heat all the way up. He still hadn't said a word in response to her.
“How'd you know where I was?”
Jordan cleared his throat. Twice, actually. “Um, I got a phone call from some girl who said she was Tiara's sister. She told me she was at a party and that you were there, knocked out. In some bedroom. Naked.”
McKenna winced. First of all, she was amazed that Kiani had cared enough to call someone. Secondly, she wondered how Kiani had even known to call Jordan. “Are you angry?” McKenna asked faintly.
“I'm not gonna yell at you,” Jordan stared at the road ahead of them. “I'm sure you'll get plenty of that when you get home. But I'm not happy. At all.”
“I know. Does it help if I say I'm sorry?” She shot him an impish smile.
“Are you sorry?” He pulled over at the end of her street.
“It depends. What are you not happy about?”
“McKenna, if you needed to escape, I understand that. But why would you go there? Of all places? You could have come to me or gone next door to Ms. Jasmine. Instead of going to a safe place where people love you, you went to a drunken party? That makes me very unhappy. You knew better and you had better choices. Yet, you made a poor decision.”
“Okay.”
Jordan sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was 2:13 am and he had not slept since 5:00 the morning before. “Look,” he lifted McKenna's chin up gently. “You know I'm standing here for you, right?”
McKenna swallowed hard at the lump in her throat. “Yes. I'm sorry, Jordan, but I didn't go to you or Ms. Jasmine because I wanted to forget.”
“I know. Tell me something, McKenna. Did he rape you?”
“Who?” McKenna's eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.
“The guy who stripped you in the bedroom.”
Only then did McKenna remember Elliot. “No, he didn't. Rape me.” She bit her bottom lip and smiled shakily at Jordan.
“What did he do then?”
“Nothing. Nobody did anything to me.”
“McKenna, it's no use lying. I've known you since you were six. I can tell a lie from you with my eyes closed.”
Blinking her huge, dark eyes, McKenna spoke, “He really didn't do anything much. We were kissing and stuff. Basically.”
Jordan turned to face her fully for the first time that night. “Yes, I'm sure, but what did he do that made you feel uncomfortable? What is it that is making you wrap your arms around yourself right now? What did he do to make you feel ashamed of your own body?”
“Um.” McKenna dropped her gaze to the floor. It was amazing how well he knew her. “Jordan, he...was touching me and stuff. Licking me? In a weird sort of way? Different than... Jace. I mean, I didn't mind, except he was a little rough. Don't get mad.”
“Don't get mad!” Jordan slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “You didn't strip yourself, did you? He did that.”
“Yeah.” McKenna shrugged. “But I let him.”
This was Jordan's worst nightmare. God forbid this ever happened to his own daughter! “He put his hand...” He nodded his head toward the zipper of her jeans.
“Yes.” McKenna chewed on her bottom lip. “That never happened to me before,” she said slowly. “It hurt. And... Yeah.”
“And? He gave you a lot to drink before that so you were feeling a little out of it, right?”
“He didn't make me do anything, Jordan. I drank a lot because I wanted to. I did it.”
“He didn't try to rape you?” Jordan spoke through clenched teeth. “He didn't try to stick it in?” McKenna sat there, fervently shaking her head. “Then, why were you completely naked? Tell me that! Why did I walk into that bedroom and find you completely naked?”
“He did try!” McKenna burst out. “He wanted to have sex with me. He said it would be fine, that it wouldn't hurt, but I didn't let him. I made too much noise, so he just left me there.”
“Then what?”
“I fell asleep. When I woke up you were there.”
“Who the-” Jordan took a few measured breaths. “Tell me his name.”
“No.” McKenna shook her head. “Jordan, he didn't hurt me! He didn't do anything that I didn't let him do, okay? I did what I wanted. It's not like I'm pregnant or anything!”
“Tell me his name!” Jordan screamed at her. He stopped when she squished herself into the door and stared, eyes wide, at him. “I'm taking you home.”
“Jordan, do I have to go home?” McKenna turned her pleading face to him. “Can't I just stay with you? I'll sleep underneath your bed. Can't I just spend the night with Ms. Jasmine? Please?”
“Do you know what ungodly hour it is? You can't just barge into people's houses and ask to stay the night!” Jordan shut off the truck in front of McKenna's house. “Besides, I am not your parent. That's something you would have to ask your father.”
McKenna's eyes filled with tears at Jordan's indifferent attitude. His voice was so cold and mean! “But, Jordan...” she sniffled.
“I can't get you out of every mess you put yourself in, McKenna. That's not my job and I don't feel any sympathy for your situation at the moment. Now get out the car so I can take you inside.”
“Jordan?” She was shocked. He didn't even sound like himself. How could he be so mean?
“I have to go to work in a couple of hours, McKenna. Now.”
Feeling hurt, kicked, and beaten, McKenna opened the truck door and jumped down. She wondered what Patrick would have to say when she got inside. Would he be very angry? Would he yell at her? Would he hit her? She had no idea what to expect. And Jordan was no help at all.
McKenna stood rigid when Patrick opened the door to them. All he did was stare and McKenna felt nauseous, dizzy, and achy. The wind was biting at her bare legs, but Patrick still stood there.
“I got a call,” Jordan explained. “And picked her up. Brought her here. She can tell you the rest.” Then, as McKenna watched through fearful eyes, Jordan got back into his truck and started the engine. Without a backwards glance or wave, he took off down the street and left McKenna behind.
“Get inside.” Patrick bit out.
“I can explain,” McKenna started speaking before he said a word.
“Where were you?” Patrick shouted. He looked a mess. His eyes had dark shadows beneath them and his skin was pale.
“At a party,” McKenna said quietly.
“I do not believe you walked out of here and went to a party!” Patrick was definitely angry. “If you ever come ringing the doorbell at this time again, I swear I will not let you in!”
“Okay, then, I'll remember my keys next time.” McKenna said saucily. She wasn't surprised when Patrick's hand flew out and hit her across her jaw. She refused to let him see that it hurt her, inside and out.
“Were you drinking, McKenna?” The man's voice was incredulous. “I can smell it on your breath. Think I'm playing with you? Think I'm stupid?”
McKenna kept right on smirking. “Yes, I was drinking. Smoking, too. I probably kissed more guys than any girl in the whole place. And if I'm pregnant, I won't even know which monkey is my baby daddy!” McKenna laughed raucously. “We did the whole 'Drunk in Love' thing.”
“That's it.” Patrick wanted to grab the rude girl and beat her til her blood ran blue. “Forget it. I may not be your legal guardian, but I am in charge of you right now. You will not be going anywhere until your grandmother returns. Anywhere!”
“Oh, good!” McKenna faked a sigh of relief. “I so hate school!”
“I will drop you to school every morning at 7:45 and pick you up promptly at 3:00. Do you hear me? I better find you waiting for me.”
“Or what,” McKenna huffed beneath her breath.
“And you will be attending church with me on Sundays. Consider yourself my shadow.”
  McKenna whispered an expletive.
“Excuse me, young lady?” Patrick's ears were Mars red. “What did you say to me?”
  McKenna repeated the obscenity. She was furious. “I can't stand you! How dare you hit me? You are nothing to me! Nothing! I don't even know who you are! So we have the same DNA, but that doesn't mean a thing! You're nothing like a father! I don't even have a memory of you before now! The only way I could ever know I had a father is that Grammy told me that you had disappeared. We thought you were dead! Then, all of a sudden you come back here, talking to me like you were here the whole time!  You can't just do that! You walked out on your two-year old daughter thirteen years ago, and you can't just walk in here now and demand respect! I don't know who in Hungary you think you are! And you're not even humble!” McKenna shook her head in disgust. “I cannot believe you just slapped my face! Why did you even have to come here? God, I hate you!”
“Go to your room.” Patrick said in a trembling voice. “Now.”
Once locked in her bedroom, McKenna dissolved in tears. She couldn't believe Grammy had left her with him! She couldn't believe he had hit her! She felt so hopeless and alone. Jordan was gone, Jace was gone, Ashleigh was gone, her mom was gone, Grammy was gone. It was three o'clock in the morning. And she was a mess.
Realizing she was still wearing Jordan's sweater, McKenna ripped it off and threw it across the room with force. Then, she snuggled beneath her blankets. She reached for the locket she always wore around her neck. Although she hadn't opened it in a year, tonight she would. As soon as she opened the golden heart, the familiar words leaked out. 'Through our eyes we can't understand when life doesn't go as planned, but when through-” The voice cut off here and McKenna was left to wonder, yet again, what words she was missing.
“Mommy?” McKenna  blinked tears away as she stared down at her mother's beautiful face. “What were you trying to tell me?”
 

CHAPTER EIGHT
“A father is someone who carries pictures in his wallet where his money used to be.”

Patrick unlocked McKenna's bedroom door with a fingernail and opened it a crack. She was curled up, asleep as he had hoped. He was probably the only one who had stayed awake the four hours until now. He crept over to her bed. It was evident she had been crying; there were white streaks on her cheeks. He hated to wake her.
“McKenna. Get up. Time for school.”
“My head hurts, though.” McKenna whined as she sat up.
“You're going. Get up.”
“I'm up. Get out my room.” She got up with a groan. Her head ached. Instead of her usual morning shower, she just rolled on some Suave. The easiest thing to dress in was a gray sweatshirt and pants. Then, she brushed her hair back into a low ponytail.
“McKenna, come on! You'll be late!” Patrick shouted up the stairs.
McKenna rolled her eyes and pulled on her pink, sparkly Uggs. “I'm here.” She grabbed her messenger bag and stood by the door. Patrick tossed her a Tropicana. “I don't like orange juice.”
“Me either.” Patrick switched it for a grape and gave her that one instead. “Let's go.”

When the bell rang at 3:00 sharp, McKenna was the first one to exit through the school's double doors. She spotted her grandmother's platinum Subaru within seconds and jogged over. Tiara caught her right before she reached it.
“McKenna, stop.” Tiara grabbed McKenna's arm. “Don't just run away like that, okay? Text me.”
“Okay.”
“Girl, you better or I'mma beat those pink letters right off your behind.”
McKenna laughed. “I will, I will! I promise.”
“Hi, Mr. Skye,” Tiara showed her dimples. She waved through the door of the car as McKenna climbed in it. “I'm Tiara Nyasha Wilby, McKenna's friend.”
“Hello there, Tiara.” Patrick smiled. “Hope I'll see you around sometime.”
“Bye!”
“Bubbly friend you have there, McKenna.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“McKenna?” Patrick glanced sideways at her. “I'm really sorry. My behavior yesterday was totally unacceptable. I was completely out of order and had no self-control. It was wrong of me to yell at you like that and especially to hit you.
“I really don't care.” She turned her body to face the window and released a huge sigh.
“Yeah, but I just wanted to let you know. I lost control of myself and you were right. How dare I! I had no right or authority to do any of those things yesterday. And I have been obnoxious since I got here. I'm sorry.”
“How come people always do stuff and then apologize? Isn't it easier to just not do it in the first place?”
“I'm sure it is,” Patrick cleared his throat. “But in my case, I wasn't thinking. I was scared. I thought you were really lost and I didn't know what I should do or what I would say. Then, you had been drinking and that shook me up because I know once you start drinking it's hard to stop. I don't want you to end up like- like me.”
“Don't worry about it.” McKenna shrugged. “It was my first time and I doubt I'll do it again.”
“Do you really think you're pregnant?”
“Why does that matter?” McKenna cut her eyes at him. “You won't have to pay  anything for your grandkid when you paid nothing for your own kid.”
“Ouch.”
“I'm not sorry. You deserve that and much more.”
“Yes, I do. You're right.”
McKenna smiled. “I am always right. Can we go and get an ice-cream from Pete's Ice-Cream and Pizza?”
Patrick laughed. “Yes, we can. Does that mean you forgive me? For last night?”
“I guess. I have more than enough people to be mad at right now. And I'm nowhere near pregnant; I was just talking. I guess you were listening.”
“I was.”

“Six green skittles on the first scoop, six purple skittles on the second, and an orange gummy bear on top,” McKenna hummed, making up her own tune. She and Patrick were sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Yes, together.
“I prefer plain vanilla.”
“Uh-huh.” She bent her head and concentrated on licking around the skittles.
“Hey, don't tell Grammy we were on the counter. She hates when I sit up here. But I like sitting high!”
“I won't. Want to Ovoo her?”
McKenna laughed. “Silly. Grammy doesn't have Ovoo! She said she if she needs to see somebody, she wants to see them in person, not on a screen. You know something about Grammy? I think she likes talking Spanish and it makes her sad that she has to speak to me in English.”
“We can learn together.” Patrick suggested.
“Maybe,” McKenna considered. She still wasn't sure about him, although she wasn't great at holding lifelong grudges with the offender beside her.
“How come you're being nice to me?” Patrick asked.
“Cuz you're being nice to me,” McKenna rolled her eyes. “And I have a feeling you're acting like yourself now. Before, you were a little presumptuous, like you deserved kindness... How come you were crying the other day?”
“Because I felt like I wasn't even gonna get a chance with you.”
“You don't deserve a chance with me.”
Patrick sighed. “I know. I don't deserve a chance with you. But I've been praying that God would give me a second chance. I gave you up once, and now I'm so close, but I am terrified! You're in physical reach, but what if I am never able to emotionally reach my child? McKenna, that scares me.”
McKenna stared down at the tiles. She already knew her decision, but she wanted to process it. Yes, it was all of a sudden and new, but she felt he was genuine. Like her grandmother had, McKenna wanted to give Patrick a second chance. No, he did not deserve it. Definitely not. Somehow, though, she was intrigued. Whether or not it was justifiable, she wanted to know the reasoning behind his actions. Besides, everyone deserved a second chance to get things right.
“McKenna?” Patrick inquired softly.
“Okay,” McKenna didn't look at  him. “We can take it very, very slowly. You get one chance, and only one, to make it right. Please don't botch it, or you will regret messing with this sassysquatch.”
His eyes flooded with tears as he stood before her. “Are you serious, McKenna?”
“Of course I'm serious,” she wrinkled her eyebrows. “Anybody who messes with me regrets it.”
“No.” He laughed, albeit solemnly. “ Are you truly giving me a second chance?” At her nod, he continued, “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. God knows that's all I have wanted these past years. God knows I am undeserving. McKenna, thank you!” He was happier than he had ever been in his life. He truly felt forgiven, redeemed.
McKenna was uncomfortable with all the “God knows.” She preferred to believe that there really wasn't a God. If there was One, she would have to assume that He did know and was purposely wreaking havoc on her world.
“McKenna, what does this mean?”
She shrugged. “It means that I am willing to build a relationship with you. A cautious one strictly on my terms, but a relationship nonetheless. It means that you may end up with a daughter... that I may end up with a father.” Something I have lacked and needed my entire life.

CHAPTER NINE
“It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.”

The doorbell rang, breaking the silence between McKenna and Patrick. He backed up, barely taking his eyes off of her, and went to the door. McKenna stayed planted on the counter. She wanted to cry for the amazement and indescribable feelings bubbling within her, but she wouldn't. Not now.
“McKenna?” She looked up at Jordan's soft voice. He was standing by kitchen door, uncertain, hesitant. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” McKenna got to her feet. Surprisingly, she didn't feel anger toward him.
“I'm so sorry, shrimp.” He took her hands in his. “Yesterday hit me right in my heart. It was the most terrifying experience of this year! I can't believe I let someone hurt you like that; I'm never supposed to let anyone hurt you.”
“It wasn't your fault,” McKenna sighed.
“I keep thinking a red light should have gone off in my head before I walked away from you. I keep thinking I should have been there. I couldn't stop Jace, but I could have stopped that boy. If I had known.”
“Jordan,” McKenna looked at him with her 'seriously though?' face. “Don't be ridiculous.”
“I know,” he laughed, and rested his forehead against hers. “I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you last night.”
“But you were! You came and got me; you made sure I was safe at home.”
“I love you, love you, love you,” Jordan whispered in response. “I love you.”
McKenna shuddered and kept the tears from falling. “Jordan, don't tell Patrick about the boy, okay? He wouldn't take it well. He's kinda like you- extra protective.” She laughed loudly.
“Alright,” Jordan agreed. “Hey, I heard that message you left on Jace's phone. It was pretty sad. I told him where you were last night; he blames himself. McKenna, he feels so bad. He said he would break up with Ashleigh to make you happy again.”
“He can't do that,” McKenna said, “because then he would be unhappy, and we couldn't be happy together.”
“I know.” Jordan sighed. “It's really messed up. Jace knew this would hurt you, but Ashleigh told him it would be better that you found out from them and not any other way.”
“They're probably right,” she forced a smile on her face.
“But are you okay?” Jordan focused on her body language, prepared to catch the first lie. It was unnecessary, though.
“No.” McKenna bit her bottom lip. “But come on. I want to find Patrick.”
Jordan followed McKenna outside to where Patrick was sitting. He stood. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Jordan said. “But... aren't you... You're the Patrick Skye. I was trying to figure out where I'd seen you before. The bookstore down the street is advertising your book... Something about a princess?”
Patrick nodded. “I didn't think anyone here would recognize me; I'm not really well known yet.”
Jordan laughed. “There's a huge banner in the bookstore. I'll have to go back and look over the book. What's it about?”
“I have to tell McKenna before I tell you,” Patrick said. “Sorry.”

After Jordan left, Patrick suggested a walk to Bayswater Park.
` “Okay,” she fell into step beside him. “I thought I was grounded.” Maybe if she wasn't grounded anymore, she wouldn't have to go to church come Sunday. She didn't need to hear the cruel things people said God did, such as killing a bunch of animals and kids because a guy stole some stuff.
“You are,” he laughed, “but you're with me.”
She nodded, a little disappointed. “Do you even know where the park is?” She herself hadn't been to the park in ages. Kayden preferred bookstores.
“Yeah,” he said, “I remember. I used to live here a long, long time ago.”
“Can you please tell me?” McKenna sucked in a deep breath. “I want to know. Why did you leave? What happened? How did my mom die? Grammy never talks about her- or you. We don't even have pictures of you, only two of my mother. Why did you leave us? And how come you came back?”
“Wow.” Patrick shook his head. Did she always ask questions right after each other, not waiting for an answer? “I guess I should start from the beginning. Your mother was Arielle Hannah Rooney. I married her in August '97-”
“I know that!” McKenna rolled her eyes. “I want to know the important stuff that happened after I was born!”
“Okay. Your mom was diagnosed with cancer when you were only seven months old. We found out early enough to start treatment-”
“What kind of cancer?” McKenna interrupted again, her eyes wide. “Breast cancer? Ovarian cancer? Leukemia?”
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “Pancreatic cancer.”
“Oh.”
“She went into remission, but only two months later it came back. Although the doctors said she wouldn't make it, she did her best to fight. Your grandmother and I watched her get weaker and weaker. It came to a point where she couldn't even hold you in her arms anymore! We all knew the fight was over, but Arielle never lost her smile.”
“She was resilient,” McKenna said softly.
“Yes. When she died, you and I moved in with Grammy. I pretty much zoned out, and your grandmother took care of you. I started drinking so I could find a way to...”
“Escape.” McKenna filled in the blank.
“Escape. It didn't work, though. All I saw in my mind was Arielle. I drank more and more, forgetting my mom and my baby were right there waiting for me. I started taking drugs. And once I started,” Patrick shook his head. “I couldn't stop.”
“Did you try?”
   “No,” Patrick answered sadly. “I really didn't. I forgot about everyone behind me. I forgot about love. I didn't see life as worth living anymore. Mami tried to save me, but I didn't want to be saved. I think, subconsciously, I wanted to die. One day, I was out getting my fix and I just decided not to come home. So I didn't. I lived on the streets, killing myself to get the money for the drugs that would, in turn, kill me.”
“What kind of drugs?” McKenna swallowed hard. Facts were imperative.
Patrick stared at her hard before answering. “All kinds.”
“Grammy probably threw away all your pictures because you made her sad. That's probably why she never really talked about you.”
“Yeah. I hurt her. And you.”
“So what happened?” McKenna queried. “You obviously didn't die.”
“Nope.” Patrick laughed. “I almost did, though. I had been doing hard drugs for years, and was so sick I couldn't lift myself from the sidewalk. But someone did.”
“Who? God?” She asked sarcastically, accented by an eye roll.
“Well, He did too, but not off the physical sidewalk.” Patrick grinned. “Someone named Avalon. She, with the help of her older brother, lifted me from a Jersey sidewalk onto a couch in her apartment building. She nursed me back to health. I wasn't the easiest person to deal with, I'm sure, but she persisted. She kept me clean and sober, and is the reason I am here today.”
“Sounds like she means a lot to you,” McKenna observed.
“Yeah.” He gave a small sigh. “She's my best friend.”
“That's cool.” McKenna bit her bottom lip and stared at the cracks in the sidewalk. “Great story.”
“What's wrong?” He stopped and frowned at her. “You're about to cry.”
“I know.” She sniffled. “If you got clean, like, years ago, what took you so long to come back? You were so close by. You knew Grammy would be looking for you. You knew I was here.”
“I wasn't going to come back. I had decided to reinvent myself. I moved to Georgia, got a job, and began to pursue my writing career. I tried to make myself forget all about you, Mami, and especially Arielle.
“Then, as I was writing, an idea began nagging in the back of my mind. I kept pushing it away. I wrote children's stories, comics, anything that didn't remind me of you. But I couldn't stop thinking, so I decided to write. As I wrote, the memories flowed, the words flowed, and I had to push all other writing projects aside.
“It took me four-and-a-half years to complete my book, Every Little Princess. It was hard; a lot of pain came out of my heart onto those pages. The book was non-fiction and told the journey of fatherhood. One I had never fully experienced.”
“If you never experienced it, how could you write about it?” McKenna looked at him quizzically.
“I did a lot of research.” he said. “I wanted to write about how fathering a daughter should be, different approaches as she grew older, and what she would need emotionally from her father. All I really knew was that the journey began not when she was born, but when she was first conceived.”
“So the book wasn't based on your experience,” McKenna stated.
“No,” Patrick shook his head, “It was based on what should be. Research. So before I sent my book to the publishing office, I gave the manuscript to Avalon to read. After reading it, she called me and said, 'Rick, you need to go find your little princess.'
“I had never told her about you or Arielle, yet she knew. And I knew she was right. I processed the idea, and after Every Little Princess was published, I mustered all my hidden courage and packed for New York.”
“And Grammy welcomed you with open arms,”
“She did,” he smiled, “although I had fully expected to stay in a hotel.”
“Not if Grammy had say in it,” McKenna said, “Even though I had wanted you to. Was all that yelling at me last night recommended in your book?”
“No.” Patrick was solemn. “That is actually forbidden. It turns out that now that I've written it, I need to actually live the book. And I intend to do just that.” He stopped and turned to her. “McKenna, when you walked into the room last week, I said to myself, 'this little girl is who you are writing for; this girl is your little princess.' And you are.”
McKenna smiled, though tears filled her eyes. “Patrick, you know we passed the park a long time ago?”
“Yeah.” He gazed at her. “I didn't want to go to the park anyway. I just wanted to talk to my daughter.”

CHAPTER TEN
“Lost my daddy. Time of disappearance:all my life
If you find him contact: www.where'smydad
Reward: a happy daughter”

 

The whispers and stares were really starting to get to McKenna. As soon as the lunch bell rang, she was the first person up and out the classroom. She scurried down the hallway, eager to disappear from sight. The stall door was barely locked behind her when the bathroom door opened and a flock of girls entered. McKenna crouched on the toilet so no-one would see she was there.
“Did you see the way she ran out of class?” Brooke asked snottily.
“Yeah,” One of Brooke's followers, Bree, was quick to agree. “Like we were actually going to follow her.”
“Well, she better know to stay in her place cuz I will crush her,” Brooke flipped her blonde extensions and applied an extra coat of lipstick. “She's such a slut.”
McKenna's brow furrowed. She wondered if it was her they were discussing. A slut?
“She is,” Chrissa said with disgust. “And she think she so smart, Brooks. No guy would give her the time of day!”
“Not even Jace did,” Bree said. “I'm glad he broke up with her; he deserve somebody better.”
“I just can't believe,” Brooke cracked her Juicy Fruit gum, “that girl had the ordacity to try and steal my boyfriend! She don't know who she messin' wit'.”
McKenna didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted by the girls' terrible grammar and use of the English language. Ordacity? What school did they attend? For their information, she was smart. Very, very smart. In fact, she was intelligent.
“You can come out now,” Tiara said a few minutes later.
“How 'bout we skip the cafeteria?” McKenna turned pleading eyes to her friend.
“Okay,” Tiara agreed. They walked together in the empty halls. Tiara was dressed in a long, flowing skirt with a jean crop top. Her very long, very real braids were strung with clear beads.
On the other hand, McKenna was wearing a black, sleeveless top and cutoffs. McKenna had caramel-colored skin and Tiara was mulatto with pale, freckled skin and sandy hair. They were opposites, but today they were both wearing red sandals.
“Kiani told me about Tuesday night.”
“You mad?” McKenna looked over at her.
Tiara clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Na. Just... next time you get it in your head to go to one of Fletcher's parties? Call me up.”
McKenna laughed and hugged her friend. “Who's Brooke's boyfriend that, apparently, I tried to steal?”
“I don't know what all that's about.” Tiara shrugged. “But I think Brooke's going out with Elliot Hughes.”
“Oh, Elliot!” McKenna smacked her head. “He doesn't go here, does he?”
“He does. He's a senior.”
“Well, I wasn't trying to steal anybody's boyfriend. If Brooke crushes anybody, she needs to crush him for cheating.”
Tiara sighed and shook her head, “This school is filled with a bunch of superficial people. They don't realize that the world is bigger than them. Life isn't about boys and makeup; it's not about sex and popularity.”
“Then what's it about, Ti?” McKenna stretched out on the grass beneath a tree.
“McKenna,” Tiara said. “Life is about happiness. It's about discovering yourself- your true beauty- and making a difference in this world.”
“I know you're younger than me, but you sound so wise.”
“Yeah, well...” Tiara laughed and changed the subject. “How come you didn't tell me your dad is famous?”
“He's not.”
“I saw his commercial last night on TV. He writes books.”
“That doesn't make him famous.” McKenna said. “But I think his latest book is a huge hit. I'm not ready to read it yet, though. I feel kinda sad when it comes to Patrick. I mean, I forgave him, but it hurts, you know?”
It took a lot of energy to hold anger inside. McKenna had let it go because she was tired of hating Patrick. She was done with that grudge, but she still felt the broken absence within her. Patrick was here, so why was she still missing him? All McKenna had wanted for as long as she could remember was for that hole to be filled. She wanted to be loved, hugged, and held. Grammy loved her with all her heart, but it wasn't enough. Was she ungrateful? Was she greedy?
McKenna wanted to do her life over. She wanted to be two again. This time, however, she wanted Patrick to make a different choice. She wanted him to choose life with his little girl. She wanted to know the joys and pains of having a father. She wanted him to be there.
Was it possible to miss someone you had never really known?
How could the absence of a man have such an impact on someone's life?
McKenna longed for memories. She wanted to remember walking on her father's toes. She wanted to remember sitting on Daddy's lap. She wanted to remember him taking her to school on her first day. She wanted to remember him tucking her in at night. She wanted to remember him threatening the first boy who had dared call her house. McKenna didn't want a figment of her imagination or someone who had just appeared. She wanted a dad who had been there all along; someone who knew her from the pear-shaped birthmark on her left shoulder blade to the very core of her soul.
“I know.” Tiara rubbed McKenna's back. “Come on, we're late.”

 

If McKenna had thought stares and whispers were bad, boy was she wrong! The 2:50 bell rang and McKenna headed to her locker. She stopped in her tracks and blinked. All the lockers had been covered with identical posters that showed McKenna, naked. The words 'Bradford High's Very Own Garden Tool!' were used as a caption.  McKenna swallowed hard and walked briskly to her locker. She entered her code, threw her books in, and slammed the locker door, ignoring the derogatory words that had been scratched into its metal.
“McKenna!” Jace hurried after her, while Ashleigh ripped posters down. McKenna ignored him and hurried on her way. It was three o'clock; Patrick would be waiting.
A huge crowd was gathered on the steps outside. Nelson, the center of attention, was speaking. “Yeah, and that wasn't all,” he said. “All night the little thot was hitting on me. I mean, I know I'm fine, but come on! Have some respect for yo' nasty self!” Everyone laughed.
“Shut up, Nelson.” Jace growled. He pushed himself through the crowd, forcing them to back up and give McKenna room to walk.
“Aww, ain't that sweet?” Elliot said. He had been standing at the bottom the whole time. Now he sneered in their faces. “The ex-boyfriend is a little sympathizer. Did you know that your girl was a-” Jace swung his arm and caught Elliot, by surprise, in his stomach. McKenna didn't stay to see the rest; she ran to where Patrick was waiting for her.

“How was school?” Patrick asked, turning the key in the ignition.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” He frowned. “Where's your friend? Tiara, I think her name was.”
“She's inside.” McKenna slipped her earbuds in. She turned to the window, enjoying the biting wind. Tiara was probably inside ridding the place of inappropriate posters. With Ashleigh.
Once at home, McKenna locked herself in her room. She had no tears; she had no words. Those names she had been called resounded in her ears. It was funny how she had done something in seclusion with only one witness, yet the whole school knew about it. But then again, it was possible the whole school had seen her Tuesday night. She had been too passed out to know.
“McKenna?”
Struggling to open her eyes, McKenna realized she must have drifted to sleep. She blinked in the dimness and sat up. Patrick was sitting on her bed with a Bell Boy hanger in hand.
“You picked it again?”
“Mmm hmm.” He put the hanger on the floor. “Jordan was here.”
“Yeah?” McKenna rested her head back on the pillow. She loved Jordan so much. He was trustworthy, reliable, and had done a pretty good job of taking care of her and Jace.
“He told me what happened, McKenna,” Patrick said. “At school.”
“But...” McKenna sat up again. She rubbed her eyes. “How did he even know? Jace told him?”
“He said he first saw it on Facebook. Jace only told him after school.”
McKenna groaned. “Did you see the picture?” Leave it to Jordan to get around his promise by showing Patrick a picture and allowing his mind to write the story.
“Yeah, I did.” Patrick cleared his throat. “Jordan wouldn't tell me exactly what happened, but he assured me that there was no intercourse. You're real lucky, McKenna. Anything could have happened to you that night.”
“Yeah.” She logged into her Facebook. Her page was covered with comments. Some were rude, others were ruder, and then some were just plain disgusting. Rather than read or delete, McKenna simply deactivated her page. It was easier that way.
She was embarrassed. More so of Patrick knowing than anything else.
“Jace was suspended.” Patrick informed her. “The guy who put up all those posters... Elliot somebody? He and Jace got into a fight and the principal suspended them. Jace for a day, and the other guy for three because of the posters.”
McKenna sighed, but she didn't say anything.
“Hey.” Patrick reached his hand out to her.  “Come here.” McKenna stared at his outstretched hand until tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She looked away, but his hand remained steady. “McKenna, I'm sorry.” He said. “I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me.”
“You weren't there ever,” she whispered.
“I know.” He said just as softly. “I know, Princess, but I'm here now. I'm here for you. Please let me hold you. Please?”
With a gasping shudder, McKenna closed the distance between them. She curled up beside Patrick with her head on his shoulder. “I needed you,” she cried. “I wanted you. I called for you and you didn't come!”
“I know. I know, baby, I know.” He was crying, too, His tears fell right into her hair. “If I could do it again, I would be here. I would have stayed. I would have never left your side.”
“Why wasn't I important enough?” McKenna whimpered.
He wrapped both his arms around her and held her so, so tight. It was the best hug McKenna had ever had. No hug from Jordan or Jace, Tiara or Ashley, Grammy or Ms. Jasmine could compare. Patrick wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed the places they had been. He rocked her in his arms. “Princess, you were important. I just couldn't see it then. Believe me, McKenna, I see it now. You are the most important thing in my life.”
“Don't leave.” McKenna pleaded. “I just found you- please don't leave me again!”
“Shh, shh.” Patrick hushed her. “Don't worry, I won't. God gave my daughter back to me, and I will not let her go again.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN
“Lost my daddy. Time of disappearance:all my life
If you find him contact: www.where'smydad
Reward: a happy daughter”

The whispers and stares were really starting to get to McKenna. As soon as the lunch bell rang, she was the first person up and out the classroom. She scurried down the hallway, eager to disappear from sight. The stall door was barely locked behind her when the bathroom door opened and a flock of girls entered. McKenna crouched on the toilet so no-one would see she was there.
“Did you see the way she ran out of class?” Brooke asked snottily.
“Yeah,” One of Brooke's followers, Bree, was quick to agree. “Like we were actually going to follow her.”
“Well, she better know to stay in her place cuz I will crush her,” Brooke flipped her blonde extensions and applied an extra coat of lipstick. “She's such a slut.”
McKenna's brow furrowed. She wondered if it was her they were discussing. A slut?
“She is,” Chrissa said with disgust. “And she think she so smart, Brooks. No guy would give her the time of day!”
“Not even Jace did,” Bree said. “I'm glad he broke up with her; he deserve somebody better.”
“I just can't believe,” Brooke cracked her Juicy Fruit gum, “that girl had the ordacity to try and steal my boyfriend! She don't know who she messin' wit'.”
McKenna didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted by the girls' terrible grammar and use of the English language. Ordacity? What school did they attend? For their information, she was smart. Very, very smart. In fact, she was intelligent.
“You can come out now,” Tiara said a few minutes later.
“How 'bout we skip the cafeteria?” McKenna turned pleading eyes to her friend.
“Okay,” Tiara agreed. They walked together in the empty halls. Tiara was dressed in a long, flowing skirt with a jean crop top. Her very long, very real braids were strung with clear beads.
On the other hand, McKenna was wearing a black, sleeveless top and cutoffs. McKenna had caramel-colored skin and Tiara was mulatto with pale, freckled skin and sandy hair. They were opposites, but today they were both wearing red sandals.
“Kiani told me about Tuesday night.”
“You mad?” McKenna looked over at her.
Tiara clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Na. Just... next time you get it in your head to go to one of Fletcher's parties? Call me up.”
McKenna laughed and hugged her friend. “Who's Brooke's boyfriend that, apparently, I tried to steal?”
“I don't know what all that's about.” Tiara shrugged. “But I think Brooke's going out with Elliot Hughes.”
“Oh, Elliot!” McKenna smacked her head. “He doesn't go here, does he?”
“He does. He's a senior.”
“Well, I wasn't trying to steal anybody's boyfriend. If Brooke crushes anybody, she needs to crush him for cheating.”
Tiara sighed and shook her head, “This school is filled with a bunch of superficial people. They don't realize that the world is bigger than them. Life isn't about boys and makeup; it's not about sex and popularity.”
“Then what's it about, Ti?” McKenna stretched out on the grass beneath a tree.
“McKenna,” Tiara said. “Life is about happiness. It's about discovering yourself- your true beauty- and making a difference in this world.”
“I know you're younger than me, but you sound so wise.”
“Yeah, well...” Tiara laughed and changed the subject. “How come you didn't tell me your dad is famous?”
“He's not.”
“I saw his commercial last night on TV. He writes books.”
“That doesn't make him famous.” McKenna said. “But I think his latest book is a huge hit. I'm not ready to read it yet, though. I feel kinda sad when it comes to Patrick. I mean, I forgave him, but it hurts, you know?”
It took a lot of energy to hold anger inside. McKenna had let it go because she was tired of hating Patrick. She was done with that grudge, but she still felt the broken absence within her. Patrick was here, so why was she still missing him? All McKenna had wanted for as long as she could remember was for that hole to be filled. She wanted to be loved, hugged, and held. Grammy loved her with all her heart, but it wasn't enough. Was she ungrateful? Was she greedy?
McKenna wanted to do her life over. She wanted to be two again. This time, however, she wanted Patrick to make a different choice. She wanted him to choose life with his little girl. She wanted to know the joys and pains of having a father. She wanted him to be there.
Was it possible to miss someone you had never really known?
How could the absence of a man have such an impact on someone's life?
McKenna longed for memories. She wanted to remember walking on her father's toes. She wanted to remember sitting on Daddy's lap. She wanted to remember him taking her to school on her first day. She wanted to remember him tucking her in at night. She wanted to remember him threatening the first boy who had dared call her house. McKenna didn't want a figment of her imagination or someone who had just appeared. She wanted a dad who had been there all along; someone who knew her from the pear-shaped birthmark on her left shoulder blade to the very core of her soul.
“I know.” Tiara rubbed McKenna's back. “Come on, we're late.”

 

If McKenna had thought stares and whispers were bad, boy was she wrong! The 2:50 bell rang and McKenna headed to her locker. She stopped in her tracks and blinked. All the lockers had been covered with identical posters that showed McKenna, naked. The words 'Bradford High's Very Own Garden Tool!' were used as a caption.  McKenna swallowed hard and walked briskly to her locker. She entered her code, threw her books in, and slammed the locker door, ignoring the derogatory words that had been scratched into its metal.
“McKenna!” Jace hurried after her, while Ashleigh ripped posters down. McKenna ignored him and hurried on her way. It was three o'clock; Patrick would be waiting.
A huge crowd was gathered on the steps outside. Nelson, the center of attention, was speaking. “Yeah, and that wasn't all,” he said. “All night the little thot was hitting on me. I mean, I know I'm fine, but come on! Have some respect for yo' nasty self!” Everyone laughed.
“Shut up, Nelson.” Jace growled. He pushed himself through the crowd, forcing them to back up and give McKenna room to walk.
“Aww, ain't that sweet?” Elliot said. He had been standing at the bottom the whole time. Now he sneered in their faces. “The ex-boyfriend is a little sympathizer. Did you know that your girl was a-” Jace swung his arm and caught Elliot, by surprise, in his stomach. McKenna didn't stay to see the rest; she ran to where Patrick was waiting for her.

“How was school?” Patrick asked, turning the key in the ignition.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” He frowned. “Where's your friend? Tiara, I think her name was.”
“She's inside.” McKenna slipped her earbuds in. She turned to the window, enjoying the biting wind. Tiara was probably inside ridding the place of inappropriate posters. With Ashleigh.
Once at home, McKenna locked herself in her room. She had no tears; she had no words. Those names she had been called resounded in her ears. It was funny how she had done something in seclusion with only one witness, yet the whole school knew about it. But then again, it was possible the whole school had seen her Tuesday night. She had been too passed out to know.
“McKenna?”
Struggling to open her eyes, McKenna realized she must have drifted to sleep. She blinked in the dimness and sat up. Patrick was sitting on her bed with a Bell Boy hanger in hand.
“You picked it again?”
“Mmm hmm.” He put the hanger on the floor. “Jordan was here.”
“Yeah?” McKenna rested her head back on the pillow. She loved Jordan so much. He was trustworthy, reliable, and had done a pretty good job of taking care of her and Jace.
“He told me what happened, McKenna,” Patrick said. “At school.”
“But...” McKenna sat up again. She rubbed her eyes. “How did he even know? Jace told him?”
“He said he first saw it on Facebook. Jace only told him after school.”
McKenna groaned. “Did you see the picture?” Leave it to Jordan to get around his promise by showing Patrick a picture and allowing his mind to write the story.
“Yeah, I did.” Patrick cleared his throat. “Jordan wouldn't tell me exactly what happened, but he assured me that there was no intercourse. You're real lucky, McKenna. Anything could have happened to you that night.”
“Yeah.” She logged into her Facebook. Her page was covered with comments. Some were rude, others were ruder, and then some were just plain disgusting. Rather than read or delete, McKenna simply deactivated her page. It was easier that way.
She was embarrassed. More so of Patrick knowing than anything else.
“Jace was suspended.” Patrick informed her. “The guy who put up all those posters... Elliot somebody? He and Jace got into a fight and the principal suspended them. Jace for a day, and the other guy for three because of the posters.”
McKenna sighed, but she didn't say anything.
“Hey.” Patrick reached his hand out to her.  “Come here.” McKenna stared at his outstretched hand until tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She looked away, but his hand remained steady. “McKenna, I'm sorry.” He said. “I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me.”
“You weren't there ever,” she whispered.
“I know.” He said just as softly. “I know, Princess, but I'm here now. I'm here for you. Please let me hold you. Please?”
With a gasping shudder, McKenna closed the distance between them. She curled up beside Patrick with her head on his shoulder. “I needed you,” she cried. “I wanted you. I called for you and you didn't come!”
“I know. I know, baby, I know.” He was crying, too, His tears fell right into her hair. “If I could do it again, I would be here. I would have stayed. I would have never left your side.”
“Why wasn't I important enough?” McKenna whimpered.
He wrapped both his arms around her and held her so, so tight. It was the best hug McKenna had ever had. No hug from Jordan or Jace, Tiara or Ashley, Grammy or Ms. Jasmine could compare. Patrick wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed the places they had been. He rocked her in his arms. “Princess, you were important. I just couldn't see it then. Believe me, McKenna, I see it now. You are the most important thing in my life.”
“Don't leave.” McKenna pleaded. “I just found you- please don't leave me again!”
“Shh, shh.” Patrick hushed her. “Don't worry, I won't. God gave my daughter back to me, and I will not let her go again.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Who needs SUPERMAN when you have a FATHER?”

McKenna sat in the front office with her arms crossed. She glared at the red-haired secretary. The woman seemed unfazed and continued to question McKenna.
“Is your stomach paining you?” Mrs. Greenfield asked. “You can rest in the nurse's office or take an Alleve and go back to class.”
“My stomach is fine.” McKenna growled. “May I please borrow the phone. I need to call my father. I want to go home.”
“Helen, what's going on?” Principal Rodgers came out of his office. His bald head was shiny with sweat. It kind of looked like a huge bowling ball that was covered in Vaseline. He was wearing a navy blue suit, but his tie was bright green and covered with purple glitter glue. It had words on it that McKenna could not comprehend.
“This young lady would like to use the phone,” Mrs. Greenfield narrowed her eyes at McKenna. “But I think she needs to go back to class.”
“McKenna?” Mr. Rodgers frowned at her. “Who do you need to call?”
“I want to talk to my dad,” McKenna said.
Ten minutes later, Patrick was outside the school waiting for McKenna. “Thank you, Mr. Rodgers!” McKenna grinned while the evil secretary lurked behind. “And I like your tie.”
“Oh, this?” The principal laughed. “My little girl, Alyssa, made it for me. See here? It says 'I love Daddy.'” He chuckled again. “Have a nice Friday, McKenna. And enjoy your spring break!”
“What's up at school?” Patrick pulled out of Bradford High's parking lot.
“It's just...” McKenna shook her head. “I can't deal with that today. They're grating on my nerves and I'mma hurt somebody. I don't have patience for ignorant, self-righteous beings who can't even spell 'spade' or 'tomato seeds' correctly.”
Patrick covered his chuckle with a fake cough.
“Stop laughing; I'm serious.” McKenna rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat. “All those girls need to do 2nd grade over or not even McDonalds will hire them.”
This time Patrick did laugh out loud. “That's funny,” he said. “So they don't know how to spell and they don't know how to flip a burger?”
McKenna ignored him.
“Admit it,” he knocked his knee against hers. “It's funny. They're all gonna be bums and you're gonna be the next Michelangelo.”
“That's not funny. That's sad.”
Silence ensued.
Patrick fiddled with the stereo all the way home. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, McKenna was unbuckled and out. Entering the house, she kicked the door closed and threw herself face down on the couch.
“McKenna?” Patrick tickled her, expecting a wriggle if nothing else. She didn't move. “I'm gonna douse you with water if you don't get up.”
She sat up abruptly. “Leave me alone. I am not in a good mood.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. What did the world do to you today?”
“I am very irritated.” McKenna crossed her arms. “I hate school! I hate stupid Mrs. Greenfield! I wish I could rip Brooke's hair out; she's so shallow! And I can't stand Ashleigh or Jace. Every time I see them in the hallway, he's whispering something in her ear and she's giggling like a little girl. It's so aggravating! I can't stand it. I don't even like him anymore.”
“Yet you miss him.”
“Yeeessss!” McKenna laughed. “It's so annoying.” She bent forward and her locket swung out of her navy blue sweatshirt.
“You still have this?” Surprise covered Patrick's face.
McKenna frowned and fingered her locket. “You know it?”
“Yeah, isn't it the one your mom got for you? It has your initials in the back.”
“M.A.S. Yeah.” McKenna unclasped the necklace. “Wait, so do you know about what she's saying?” She opened the locket to the soft voice that was always there. “See? 'Through our eyes we can't understand when life doesn't go as planned, but when through-' It just cuts off!”
He smiled faintly. “It's a verse from one of your mom's favorite poems. 'Through our eyes we can't understand when life doesn't go as planned, but when through His eyes we see, everything was meant to be.”
“But when through His eyes we see, everything was meant to be.” McKenna repeated. Indubitably a reference to God. “Ohh... So how come she didn't at least tell me the rest of the verse, if not the whole poem?”
Patrick didn't answer for a few minutes. He put his arm around McKenna's shoulders and sighed.
“That was the day she died, Princess. Those were her last words. She didn't have a chance to complete the verse.”
“So she just died in the middle of a sentence!” McKenna shrieked. “What!”
“She really wanted to leave her voice behind for you to hear. She wasn't very strong, so when she stopped to take a deep breath, no-one was surprised. But that was her last breath and she clenched the locket in her fist, ending the recording. I was right there.” Patrick fought to control his emotions. Fourteen years didn't take away the hurt.
“Do you think,” McKenna moved to the other end of the couch. “If she hadn't used up her strength to make that recording for me, she would have lived longer? Maybe?”
“No.” Patrick shook his head. “It was only a matter of time, McKenna. Her death was inevitable! Even the doctors had thought she would be dead already, but she was trying to hold on for you.”
“So my mom tried to hold on for me and my dad let go of me. Very interesting.”
“McKenna...”
“I'm not mad.” McKenna stood up and stretched. “I'm just saying! Just saying. Can we do something? Instead of sitting here and talking about dead people? Please?”
Patrick rubbed his forehead. No book could have ever prepared him for this. “Come here, Princess.”
“And can you stop calling me that?” McKenna rolled her eyes. “In case you forgot, I have a name! When you left, you left your princess far behind, and she died, okay? There's no princess here.”
With a serious look on his face, Patrick walked over to where McKenna stood. “McKenna, look at me.”
“And what's up with your obsession anyway?” McKenna continued to babble. “Princesses are so superficial! They're fake. Is that what you want?”
“McKenna.” Patrick lifted her chin so she was facing him. Refusing to look him in the eye, she tried to blink her tears into oblivion. Instead, they spilled over her eyelashes and down her cheeks. Patrick shook her a little. “McKenna, look at me!” When finally she did, he continued. “Repeat after me: My mom dying and my dad leaving-”
“My mom dying and my dad leaving,” she managed to say shakily.
“- had nothing to do with me.”
“Had n-nothing to d-do wi-with m-me.”
“IT WAS NOT MY FAULT!”
“It wasn't my fault,” she whispered.
“No.” Patrick said. “IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! Say it.”
“IT WAS NOT MY FAULT!” McKenna shouted. She angrily pulled herself out of his grasp. “So if it wasn't my fault, then whose fault was it? Who am I supposed to blame? God? You!” McKenna began to hit Patrick's chest. He just stood there and she kept pummeling him. “At least my mom had an excuse to leave me! You.” She kicked at his shin. “Had.” His other shin. “A.” She used both fists to beat against his chest. “Choice!”
“McKenna.” He grabbed both of her wrists. “Stop it!”
“Ow!” McKenna screamed. “Let go of me!” Patrick pulled her tight against him, in a position where she couldn't kick or hit. “I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you! You're hurting me! Let go!”
“McKenna, what's going on?” He released her a little. “Calm down, just calm down. I know I had a choice, okay? I made a bad one.”
At that moment, the doorbell rang three times in succession. Sighing, Patrick led McKenna to sit on the couch. Then, he opened the door just a crack.
“Is everything okay?” Ms. Jasmine asked worriedly. She had heard McKenna screaming through her kitchen window.
“No, not really,” he said. “Can- is it okay if we call you later?”
“I suppose so,” she said. “Kayden's worried.”
“Well, tell him not to be. We'll be fine.”
“Um, I think he's worried about his 'Akenna', not you.” Ms. Jasmine retorted, walking down the steps and away from the house.
“Sorry!” Patrick called out to her.
“Now let's see,” Patrick sat beside McKenna on the couch, not too close, and not too far away. He was very, very cautious. “Want to tell me what's going on inside your head?”
“Not really.” McKenna said. “I'm sorry I had a meltdown. I just,” she quoted him, “lost control.”
“Well, that's understandable,” Patrick said. “You just surprised me.”
“I'm sorry,” McKenna apologized again. “I even surprised myself. I think I'm feeling overwhelmed. With everything that happened at school... It's embarrassing and degrading. I feel so exposed, so... dirty. Those girls could be right, I mean,” she broke off and sighed. “And then you're here and you're being so unexpectedly nice, I mean, why couldn't you have just stayed?”
“McKenna,” Patrick began.
“It's okay!” She said with false brightness. “I don't want to talk about it. I'll be perfectly fine.”
He didn't say anything.
“I'm serious.” She blinked. “I'll be fine. I promise.”
“Okay, and promise me you won't scream like that again. I don't want the neighbors to think I'm abusive.”
“I'm sorry.” McKenna rubbed her eyes. “I didn't mean to. I'm not angry with you and I definitely do not hate you. I'm just...” She sighed. “I don't know, honestly. Maybe confused?”
“Talk to me,” he pleaded.
McKenna leaned heavily on his shoulder. “I missed you all this time.”

 

“Princess, wake up.” Patrick gently shook McKenna.
“That's not my name!” She protested while yawning. “The movie is over?”
“It's been done for about an hour now.” He laughed. “I fell asleep, too. Then, I was watching you for a little while. You never once moved; I had to keep checking to make sure you were alive.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Patrick laughed. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. At first, she felt very awkward. After all, he still was a stranger. McKenna shrugged it off and told herself it was okay to trust him, that he would be here forever.
“True princesses aren't superficial,” Patrick said while tucking her in. “A princess isn't a girl who wears pretty clothes and marries Prince Charming. She's a girl who is kind and compassionate to others, who is firm but gentle, and whose character demands respect. I don't know you very well, but you, McKenna, are a princess because you are my daughter and I believe that every little girl is a princess and should be treated like one.”
“I guess.” McKenna snuggled into her blanket. “But I'm not a little girl.”
Patrick smiled. “I know.”
“Night, Patrick.”
“Good night, Princess.”

 

CHAPTER TWELVE
“In our society, leaving baby with daddy is just one step above leaving the kids to be raised by wolves or apes.”

“What day is Grammy coming next week?” McKenna helped Patrick load the groceries into the trunk. They had been forced to go shopping- there was practically nothing in the cupboard and fridge! She was sure they had been Stop&Shop's most-paying customers for the day. Also, they had been to CVS, Rainbow, Forever 21, and Oakridge Outlets that afternoon. Not to mention Footlocker. And Michaels.
“Friday, I think.” Patrick slammed the trunk closed.
“So does that mean... you're leaving?” McKenna averted her eyes from his gaze. She fiddled with the lock on the door. If he was leaving, she had to disconnect. Now.
Patrick didn't answer until they had left the parking lot. Even then, he waited a few minutes to respond. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
It began to rain. Lightly, at first, but then in torrents. They pulled into the driveway. McKenna shrugged. “I don't care.” she said. “Do what you wanna do.” She slammed the car door behind her and headed for the house. After opening the door, she went to help Patrick with the bags. Together, they piled the groceries onto the kitchen counter.
“Honestly...” Patrick placed a carton of eggs in the refrigerator. “I was thinking about moving up here.”
“Why?” McKenna gave him a distasteful look. Hope, fear, and excitement surged through her blood. If Patrick moved to New York, she could possibly have an active father! That was terrifying because she was just getting used to having an alive father. McKenna shuddered, shook herself, and masked her face as best she could.
“Because I want to be near you,” he said gently. “And I have a feeling you might want me to stay.”
McKenna rolled her eyes. He had a feeling? “Well, I have a feeling that your feeling might be very wrong.”
“And now I know my feeling is very right.” Patrick c***ed his head and raised his eyebrows. He tapped his long, slim fingers on the counter. McKenna pointedly ignored him and continued to clean up the kitchen. Finally, she huffed and slammed the cupboard after putting away the last item.
“Whatever.” She grinned. “Isn't it a lot of unnecessary work to pack up and move your whole life to another state? Where do you live again?”
“I'm in Georgia right now,” he said. “And it won't be unnecessary work.”
There was no response. McKenna simply gave him a look and went to answer the door. Who was outside ringing the bell in the rain?
“Hi, Akenna.” A gapped smile greeted her. Kayden stood on the front steps dressed in a yellow raincoat, green galoshes, and a red hat. He held a purple and orange polka-dotted umbrella and a plastic container. “We made brownies.” He held up the container and blinked his stormy green eyes.
“And your mom sent you here in the rain?” McKenna pulled him inside and shut the door.
Kayden nodded solemnly. “Rain helps us grow,” he said. “Just like flowers.”
Shaking her head, McKenna took the brownies and thanked him. She had no doubt that was exactly what Ms. Jasmine had said. It sounded just like her! “Kayden,” McKenna gestured to Patrick who had just stepped into the hallway. “That's my dad.”
Patrick couldn't keep back his smile. It was the first time McKenna had actually acknowledged him as her father! She hadn't even called him just her father, but her dad! That made him feel really good all over- like someone had dunked him in an ocean of sunshine.
“Me and Mommy seed him at church.” Kayden said matter-of-factly. “Wanna play outside later, Akenna?”
Ugh. McKenna wrinkled her nose. “Maybe. If it's not too wet.”
“Okay, bye!”
“Okay, bye.” McKenna smiled and shut the door softly behind him.

They had taken at least a thousand pictures that week. McKenna and Patrick had gone to almost every cool place McKenna knew in the area. Now, they settled on the living room floor to sort through the pictures and fill up some photo albums and frames they had bought. Michaels sold the prettiest and most creative frames and albums around!
The living room hadn't been used until Patrick came. Grammy had uncovered the furniture, but the room still had an unfamiliar feel. They were going to cover the walls and tables with pictures. Well, they had so many pictures they would probably hang some in the hallways and rooms upstairs. Grammy would be happily amazed when she came home.
They worked in silence for a while. McKenna sat cross-legged in a red t-shirt and overall shorts. Her feet were bare and her hair was pulled into a hasty ponytail. She concentrated on the pictures. Although there would never be any pictures of her with Patrick at a young age, she could now begin to make memories. A laugh bubbled up inside McKenna as she placed a silly face selfie in a LOL album.
“You look like your mom,” Patrick commented.
“I know.” McKenna grinned. “Grammy told me.” 
“You do this thing while you're concentrating, like she did,” he explained. “She would scrunch her eyebrows together and bite on her bottom lip.”
“What else?” McKenna sat on her heels eagerly.
“Well, your features are mine. Your eyes, your nose... your hair is just like mine. But all your expressions are like your mother's. When you smile, when you give me that 'none of your business' or 'are you stupid?' look, when you laugh, it makes me think of her.”
“You think about her a lot?”
“Not when I'm with- not when I'm in Georgia, but here, with you, I do.”
“It's like, it was so long ago that you have to move on. You can't spend every waking moment thinking about it or you'll be sad all the time. So you move on, but at the same time, if you see something that, like, used to be her favorite, you think of her and remember.”
“Yeah.” Patrick smiled. “Like that. If I see a wall of bougainvillea, I will instantly think of her. Those were her favorite flowers; we had some growing outside her window at the old house. Some days I go without once thinking of your mother, but not since I came to New York. I guess because all my memories of her are here. And then you.”
“I'm a memory all by myself.”
“Yup.” He reached over and pulled McKenna into a quick hug. “The best memory.”
“How did you know where to find us?” McKenna asked. “How did you know we didn't move somewhere else?”
“I didn't.” Patrick laughed. “I just hoped you guys would still be at 36 Dougherty Lane. And I was lucky!”
“Lucky, huh.” McKenna arranged three frames diagonally on the coffee table. Their photo project was just about done. Patrick had taken care of hanging the other frames onto the walls and the photo albums were stacked neatly under the table. All that was left were the pictures designated for the kitchen, hallway, and bedrooms.
“So, how old was she when she died?” McKenna queried. “Sorry, I have a lot of questions.” She gave him an apologetic look.
“Twenty-three.”
“So you guys never got to, like, grow old together.”
“Nah.” Patrick shook his head. “I wish we had. Then things could have been different.”
“Like what?” McKenna dared to ask.
“Like, I was very immature, so I spent a lot of our time together picking fights and causing her tears. She loved me and forgave me, but if she was still here, I would treat her better. She deserved so much more.”
“You yelled at her and stuff?”
“Yeah.” Patrick was ashamed of it. “A lot of nights I didn't come home. And when I was there, I usually ignored her and made her feel inferior.”
“Slept on the couch and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“So you guys never had a fairytale marriage. I always thought you guys were so in love and perfect and happy. Like a storybook. Then, when she died, you were devastated and even your year old child wasn't enough to mask your sorrow, so you rode off into the dusk, never to be seen again.”
Patrick laughed. “Stop reading so much! No, we didn't have a fairytale marriage. Arielle was perfect, but I was selfish and unsatisfied.”
“You cheated on her.” McKenna didn't even pose it as a question. She shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's terrible!”
“I know. When she found out, she wasn't even angry. She simply told me, with no venom in her words, that she was sorry she couldn't be good enough for me-”
“What!” McKenna shrieked. “I woulda messed you up! I woulda had you on the street begging.”
“I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.”
“So you guys were never happy together?”
“Things got a lot better when you were born. I got my act together. But then the cancer came.”
“That's one jacked up story.” McKenna sighed and left the room. She rested her arms on the windowsill and watched Kayden and Ms. Jasmine dancing in the rain. Theirs also was a sad story.
Ms. Jasmine had been with Kayden's father for three years when she got pregnant. The man had promised to stay by her side and did until the day the baby was born. He disappeared from Mercy Hospital without a trace. Ms. Jasmine left her apartment and moved to a small house in a peaceful neighborhood. Now she was happy and McKenna hoped that she would be too, someday.
“You okay?” Patrick put his arm around her.
McKenna shrugged. “I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'm tired.”
“Was all that too much for you?”
“It was a lot.” McKenna's eyelids began to burn from holding back tears. “I mean... talking about my mom. We don't do that a lot here. And there's so much information, stuff I didn't know, words I have to process. I need to think. And... I miss her. I didn't know her, but I miss her.”
“Yeah.”
“I feel so weird. Like, my life is so...” McKenna shook her head as if to clear the unwanted thoughts away. “Never mind.”
“What is it?” Patrick pulled her gently to face him. She looked like the poster child for epic melancholy. She deserved the caption 'Broken Beautiful.' If you could capture her face, it would be a photograph someone would stare at for longer than minute. Her face held its usual charm, but her eyes seemed darker and larger. They stared out with such sadness; they made you want to reach out and do something!
“I want to sleep.” Tears danced in McKenna's eyes like minnows in an ocean. “Crash, actually.”
“Alright.” He frowned. He wouldn't force her to spill her sorrow. “Should I wake you for church in the morning?”
At that, McKenna actually smiled. She shook her head. “Goodnight.”
“I love you.” Patrick touched the side of her face. She squirmed and turned away. Yes. All this was too much for her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“GO AWAY.
    Show me you care enough to stay.”

“Hungry?” Patrick banged into the house.
“Church is long!” McKenna exclaimed from her seat on the kitchen table. She continued texting.
“It isn't, though. 10 to 12?”
“I guess I was asleep when you left.” McKenna had awoken feeling much better than the day before. She showered, dressed in a purple maxi dress, fixed her hair into a bun, and had spent the rest of the morning (or early afternoon) texting Jordan and Tiara. “Yeah, I'm hungry.”
“Let's go get something.” Patrick jangled his keys. “I'm not up for cooking.”
McKenna rolled her eyes and hopped off the table. “You haven't cooked all week! Grammy is so gonna kill you. I'm only allowed to eat out twice a week.” She lifted her dress and slipped her phone into the pocket of her shorts.
“I'll just tell her I wanted to spoil my only daughter.” He locked the door behind McKenna.
“More like you were just being lazy?” McKenna turned to Patrick with raised eyebrows. He gave her a sheepish grin and started the engine.
“Whoa, I forgot.” Patrick brought the car to a stop. “Left my wallet on the bed this morning. I've been driving without a license.”
“Ooh,” McKenna unbuckled her seatbelt. “I'll get it.” She grabbed the keys that Patrick tossed her and skipped up the walk.
Patrick was staying in the guest room. It was down the hall from McKenna's and across from her grandmother's. McKenna barged into the room and grabbed the brown wallet off the yellow bedspread. Forgetting she had a dress on, McKenna slammed the door behind her and took off running down the stairs. She tripped and fell down the last two steps.
“Ouch.” She muttered to herself. Then, “Oops!” She had accidentally dropped Patrick's wallet. Most of his bills and cards were now strewn on the floor. She scooped up old receipts, business cards, and other such paraphernalia, stuffing them back into the wallet. He could reorganize them later.
One last card from the floor caught McKenna's eye. Looking at it closely, she realized it wasn't a card, but a wallet photo. It pictured Patrick sitting beside an auburn-haired woman. He held her hand and she rested her head on his shoulder. A little boy sat on his lap. At first, McKenna thought he was adorable! Then, realization hit her. Bile rose in her throat.  
She was stunned. A wave of dizziness washed over her. “C'mon, McKenna,” she whispered to herself. “Snap out of it. Calm down. Don't make assumptions. Just relax.” She forced herself to paste on a smile and leave the house.
“Took you a while,” Patrick commented.
“I-I tripped on the stairs,” she explained. “Here's your wallet.”
“Thanks. You okay?”
“No. I'm not.” McKenna crossed her arms and stared at him. “Who's the lady and the baby in the picture?”
“Wha-”
“Don't play stupid.” McKenna pulled the photo from her pocket and smacked it onto the dashboard. “There. Who are they?”
Patrick's jaw dropped. His hand went to his pocket. “McKenna, I-” He sighed. “That's the woman I told you about. Avalon.”
“Your best friend?”  She pursed her lips and gave him the familiar 'are you stupid, or do you think I am stupid?' look.
“Yeah,” he answered in a small voice. “I guess I left out an important part of that story.”
“Oh, really.” McKenna felt the sarcasm rising in her voice. “I guess you forgot. I didn't know you had Alzheimer's! Must have gotten that on your way from Georgia, huh?”
“McKenna-”
“You left out the part of the story where you got married again and lived a fairytale with somebody else! Where you went and had a kid to replace me! Or maybe I'm assuming? Maybe you guys aren't married and maybe she is just your best friend and that's her illegitimate child, who's sitting on your lap and looking just like me!”
“McKenna, stop.”
“No!” McKenna swallowed the lump of tears in her throat. “I can see exactly what you did to my mother! Guess you didn't learn your lesson cuz, in my book, hiding something is the equivalent of lying. And lying is just as bad as cheating on somebody. It just means you're dishonest. So can you please tell me, since I probably already know, who that woman really is? She's your wife, isn't she?”
“Yes.” Patrick squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to disappear like a bunny into a hat.
“Thank you,” McKenna nodded her head, “for that moment of honesty. Thank you, Patrick. You really are something else. You had me fooled, believing my life could be normal, believing I had my father back. What did you come here for? You needed to bring more hurt into my life? No, but I guess it's my fault, huh. I should have known better than to trust you. After all, I was never good enough for you, was I?”
“It's not like that-” Patrick tried to say.
“Oh, it's not?” McKenna widened her eyes. “I'm sorry, but that's what it looks like to me.”
“Can I please just explain?”
“Explain?” McKenna gave a dry laugh. “I've had enough explanations from you. I've had more than enough lies to last me a lifetime! You see, I trusted you so easily because I wanted you here. I wanted a father. Deep inside, I truly believed I could be your princess and I could start a new, normal, happy life with you. When you came back, you gave me hope and possibility, but everything was a lie! I wish you had never come here!”
For once Patrick was silent. He had nothing to say because McKenna spoke the absolute truth.
“I'm going for a walk,” McKenna said quietly. “When I return, I want you gone. Out.”
“McKenna,” Patrick finally spoke up. “I can't do that. Your grandmother left you here with me. It would be wrong of me to leave you unsupervised.”
“My grandmother,” McKenna spoke with authority, as if she were speaking to a small child, “would be appalled at your behavior.”
Patrick knew it was true. Especially since he hadn't even told Lilliana of Avalon. “I feel bad.” Patrick rubbed his forehead. “McKenna, I feel so bad.”
“That's how you should feel,” McKenna said unsympathetically. “I think you should go back to your wife now; I can only hope you didn't also build that relationship on a web of lies.”
“McKenna, I'm-”
“What?” McKenna's voice was as ice. “You're sorry? Well, so am I. And you'll be even sorrier if I come back and find you in my house.”
With that, McKenna climbed out of the car. She closed the door with dignity and walked stately down the sidewalk. She kept up that facade until she crossed onto Braxton; there, she burst into inconsolable tears.
Where was she going? She had no boyfriend to welcome her with open arms. She had nothing over here anymore. Jordan had never really been hers.

“McKenna, is that you?” A blue sedan slowed to a stop. The window was rolled down and, through her tears, McKenna vaguely recognized Mr. Nohls. She hadn't seen him in so long! “I heard you've been having a rough time of things.” He left his car to wrap her in a brief, tight hug. “The boys are at the house; the door is unlocked, so go right in. And remember, you are always welcome. You're a blessing to my family, McKenna.” Mr. Nohls waved and was soon on his way.
With a sigh, McKenna wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was time to grow up. She was a renounced orphan and had to depend on herself.

“You're just gonna stand there?” Jace stepped out onto the porch.
McKenna jumped and swallowed her small scream of surprise. “How did you know I was even here?”
“My dad called.”
“Oh.” McKenna said. “I came to see Jordan, if that's okay?”
“Yeah.” Jace cleared his throat. “He should be in the den.” He watched her squeeze past him. When she was almost through the screen door, he spoke up in a strained voice. “You really hate me, don't you.”
She stayed facing the other direction. She didn't trust her face to stay emotionless. Not when emotions rolled through like a storm. “No, Jace. I don't.”
“Why not?” Involuntarily, his voice cracked.
“Because... I could never hate you. I love you too much.”
“You're amazing.” She felt him come up behind her. His warm breath on her neck was more than familiar. McKenna knew him, she knew he was about to do something crazy like touch her or kiss her or something very Jace-y. Holding her breath, she turned to face him. It was hard because she wanted him- oh how she missed him-,  but she wouldn't allow him to be unfaithful. No matter what the circumstances.
“Jace, stop.” McKenna sighed in frustration. “You can't.”
“Can't what.” His voice was deep and husky. He stared at her mouth.
McKenna knew he was barely listening, so she raised her voice. “You can't just up and do whatever your gut tells you to do. You need to stop and think. Don't be irrational. You gotta do the right thing or you're gonna hurt someone.”
Even as she spoke 'words of wisdom' to Jace, she was speaking to herself. She also needed to learn to think before acting, to be rational. That's one reason she and Jace had been so compatible: passion drove both of them, whether in anger or in love.
“Kenny...” He groaned and covered his face. “I meant what I said. You're amazing.”
“I know.” She smiled softly. She felt her anger toward him begin to dissipate. It was replaced by fear and need. “How's it going with Ashleigh?”
“Not great. It's like, I'm just working to make her happy. But she doesn't make me happy, you know?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I don't think she and I will be friends again. She's becoming shallow to me, like Brooke, Chrissa, Bree and them. I know she's not all bad, but she frustrates me. She ignored me for so long, when she could have just told me. Now, I don't know.”
“But you forgive me?” Jace tossed her his award-winning smile.
“Yes, I do.” McKenna knew it was true. “I was holding all this hurt, resentment, and bitterness toward you, but I felt it just melt away a minute ago. I forgive you... It's okay.”
“And we can be friends?”
McKenna nodded. Tentative friends, maybe, but certainly not enemies.

 

“Time to go home, shrimp.” Jordan rubbed her back. McKenna was curled up against him with a bowl of buttered popcorn. She had stripped of her dress and was wearing one of Jordan's many Boston Red Sox shirts. She snuggled closer to him.
“Pass the kernels,” Jace said from the floor. McKenna gave him the bowl.
“It's late, guys.” He pulled McKenna to a sitting position. “Almost twelve. My shift starts in a couple of hours.”
“Okay, I'm ready.” McKenna rubbed her eyes and yawned. She'd been watching movies for over eight hours! “Jace- out. I want to ask Jordan something.”
“What is it?” Jordan asked when Jace left the room. He gave her a worried look. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, no, but yeah. I'm okay. I just...” she bit her lip so the tears wouldn't flow. “I wanted to ask you to please stick around. Even though Jace and I aren't... getting married anymore. Even though I've been a mess lately. But, Jordan, I want... I don't want you to disappear out of my life. Like Patrick.”
“I won't.” He wrapped her in the tightest hug she had ever felt. “I wouldn't do that, McKenna. I'm not gonna disappear because my little brother goofed off. You weren't just his treasure; you were our treasure. Don't worry, okay? I'm not going anywhere.” He didn't let go. He held her tight and rocked her in his arms. McKenna cried and cried.
“I never used to cry!” she wailed.
Jordan smiled and hugged her tighter.
“Ready to go?” He wiped her tears with his thumbs, grabbed her dress and shoes, and walked with her to the car where Jace was waiting.
McKenna's home looked ominous in the dark. It stood there in the shadows looking like a haunted house. The moon cast an odd glow on the trees as they creaked in the night. McKenna was spooked. “What if he's not in there and the house is empty?”
“Look, the car is still there,” Jace pointed out.
McKenna was relieved until she remembered and said, “That's my grandma's car. She left it here for him to use. Do you think he's gone, Jordan?”
“I don't know.” He unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let's check it out. Jace, come on. I'm not leaving you out here in the dark.”
“I'm scared,” McKenna whimpered. She clutched Jordan's hand as if it were a handrail on a roller coaster.
“You have a key?” Jordan asked in a hushed tone. McKenna shook her head, although it was already shaking with the rest of her body. Then, memory kicked in and she feebly dug in the frog-shaped flowerpot for the spare.
“You guys can stay here,” she whispered. The house was deathly silent. “I'll check.”
She crept up the stairs. Paint from the banister curled beneath her fingernails. This was eerie. Good thing ghosts only existed in paranormal novels and TV shows! She knocked at the guest room door, in case he was there. The knock sounded hollow and no-one answered. McKenna swung the door wide open and flipped on the light.
It was no surprise to her to find the room empty, naked, stripped clean of any sign of life. The sheets and blankets were off the beds. The pictures were off the walls. The suitcases weren't there. The shoes were missing. And he was gone.
“I didn't really think he would go,” McKenna said shakily as she descended the stairs. She was too stunned to cry. “I thought he would stay.”
“In order to protect yourself, you said the opposite of what you wanted,” Jordan said with understanding. “You told him to leave because you were angry, but you thought that he would care enough to stay.”
McKenna's eyes were redder than a perfectly ripe tomato. “No, I wanted him to leave!” She scrunched her eyebrows. “At least I thought I did.”
Jordan decided that she would come home with them. He would be going to work for 3, but he felt better about leaving her in the house with Jace then here alone.
“Hey.” Ms. Jasmine nearly sneaked upon them; her footsteps were as an Indian's. She looked tired. “I fell asleep waiting for you guys.”
“How'd you know where I was?” McKenna felt as if her whole life was on stage. Lights, cameras, action! Well, if she could be the director, she would yell 'Cut!'
“Well, we figured that's where you had gone,” Ms. Jasmine tied her robe more securely about her. “Patrick and I.”
“You saw him leave?” McKenna's tone demanded an answer.
“Yes. He told me he was leaving. He insisted I watch for you and keep you here until your grandmother returns. I packed a bag for you.”
“He left.” McKenna stared into space. She was shivering, yet she couldn't feel the cold. Neither Jace nor Jordan had a jacket to offer her.
Jordan, Jace, and Ms. Jasmine formed a misshapen semicircle around McKenna. She didn't even seem to see them. She couldn't see or hear a thing. She felt as if someone had plunged her into deep, deep water. And there was only one thing she could say.
“He left.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

“Akenna,” Kayden's anxious face was streaked with tears. He didn't understand why his beloved McKenna wasn't answering! She sat numbly in her shorts and Red Sox shirt, not seeing or hearing a thing. “Mommy, fix her!” He demanded. “Fix Akenna!”
“I can't, baby,” Ms. Jasmine kissed Kayden's dark mop of curls. She held her son on her lap and they both watched. McKenna had been sitting in the same position for hours- since Jordan had had to carry her inside the house. She sat listless and unresponsive.
“Acuz she's unfixable?” Kayden stared, his eyes wide. Then, he stuck his middle finger into his mouth and sucked, something he hadn't done in two years.
It was 6 am. The sun had already risen. Ms. Jasmine had tried everything she could think of to make McKenna respond. She had played loud music, read stories, sprayed her with water, enticed her with homemade vanilla ice-cream, and assaulted her with stuffed animals. Absolutely nothing had worked and it had been a long, extemporaneous night. Kayden had been up for most of it.
“Hello?” Ms. Jasmine set Kayden down and paced her kitchen with the wireless. “Not at all, no. Very despondent. Yes.” She rubbed her temples while her eyes fluttered shut. “That's a great idea, but I don't have his number.”
“Well, do you think she would want to talk to him?” Jordan sounded desperate. “Let me see... he might have his info on the web... No, nothing. As an author, I guess he'd keep it private. Why didn't he give you his number!”
“Mommy, who's yelling?” Kayden frowned up at his mother. “Is that Daddy? If that's Daddy, you needa hang up that phone!”
McKenna didn't even stir at the word 'daddy.' Deferred hope caused Ms. Jasmine's bubbly laugh to die.
“He didn't offer it,” she answered. “And I didn't think to ask.”
“Well, what did he say when he left?”
Ms. Jasmine's thorax constricted. She glanced at McKenna and Kayden, then slipped out the screen door onto the front steps. Although she wasn't sure McKenna was hearing, she didn't want her next words to be devastating and cause further trauma.  Lowering her voice, she conveyed, “His exact words were: 'I don't mean to inconvenience you, but could you please watch for McKenna to come home? I need her to stay with you until her grandmother arrives on Friday. Just... take care of her, okay? I won't be coming back.'”
“The devil!” Jordan exclaimed. “He'd better stay far away from my shrimp or I will personally see to it that he never breathes again!”
“Oh, Jordan,” Ms. Jasmine chided. “I ventured to ask him why. He was so torn, and his answer nearly broke my heart.” She ignored Jordan's scoff. “He said, 'Because I love her. And since all I do is hurt her, I'm leaving. I'm not gonna stick around and cause her more pain. If I've never done anything good for my daughter, I'm doing it right now. She doesn't deserve a repulsive reprobate for a father.'”
It was silent for a short while. All that could be heard was a bird's singing.
“That's messed up,” Jordan said.

“McKenna, honey?” Ms. Jasmine crouched before her still figure. “Can you get dressed and eat some breakfast? Jace is gonna come walk to school with you, okay?”
To her relief and surprise, McKenna's eyes registered the words. She seemed awake now; her glassy eyes had cleared. “Alright,” she said, taking the bag Ms. Jasmine offered. Within minutes, not caring that Ms. Jasmine and Kayden were in the room, she had changed into some school-appropriate clothing.
“We lost you for a while, McKenna,” Ms. Jasmine said. “What happened?”
McKenna shrugged. She could remember sitting still for hours, but she couldn't tell you why. She remembered hearing faint, indistinct voices, but not being able to grasp anything concrete. She had completely zoned into another world. Until Kayden had sat on her lap and relayed a shocking message. He didn't know she had heard, but for some reason, his words had resounded loudly in her ears and had awoken her from her trance.
Ms. Jasmine sighed. “Well, come eat. Jace will be here in a few minutes.”
“Mommy made tomato and turkey!” Kayden piped up. His upper lip was covered with green smoothie.
“I know you only eat, what is it, honey nut oats? On Mondays.”
“Actually, it's froot loops,” McKenna corrected, “but I'm really not hungry. I'll eat later, okay? I promise.”
“Okay, I'll just wrap it up. You can take it with you.”
McKenna nodded.
“Kayden isn't going to school today,” Ms. Jasmine continued. “I have to take him for a couple of appointments. I should be home by the time you get here, but in case I'm not, here's a key.” She handed McKenna a key on a lanyard, then moved to open the door for Jace.
“Morning, Ms. Jaz,” Jace stayed on the front step.
“Bye, Ms. Jasmine,” McKenna turned to go, then paused. “Did he really say he wasn't coming back? And called himself a... repulsive reprobate?”
“How did you hear that, McKenna!” Ms. Jasmine exclaimed. McKenna wasn't about to rat little Kayden out, so she remained silent. Ms. Jasmine sighed. “Never mind. He didn't mean for you to know that.”
“Of course he didn't,” McKenna said bitterly. “He didn't mean for me to know about anything.”

 

“McKenna, did you hear the question?” Mr. Jareds tapped his fingers on the desk.
McKenna had been staring out of the window for the past twenty minutes. Someone poked her and she jumped. “No- no, sir.”
“You're no longer on spring break. Focus.” He barked. “White Fang; Call of the Wild?”
“Um, Jack London, sir,” she said. After he harrumphed and moved away from her, McKenna turned to thank the boy behind her. He grunted something that sounded like 'welcome' but just as easily could have been 'whatever.' She smiled and turned back to face the window.
By the time American Literature class was over, she had made up her mind. For the first time, she headed to Ms. Hertzelinger's class with a purpose besides texting or trying to stay awake. She had a plan. Actually, a plan A and a plan B. Plan B was a little shaky, but she was more than confident she wouldn't need to use it.
Right after lunch, McKenna began the first phase of her plan. It was simple, but she had never done anything like it before. She skipped her next class and instead headed to the front office. When she got there, she dropped onto all fours and crawled past the glass windows, holding her breath. Mrs. Greenfield didn't even notice.  Thankful their school lacked front door security, McKenna pushed open the glass doors and walked out of Bradford High. And just like that, she was free! (Her English teacher would call the front to notify them of her absence after roll call, then they would check the cameras, then call... who? Exactly.)
McKenna rushed down Dougherty Lane. Ms. Jasmine wasn't home yet, so she didn't have to stop there. Her house felt huge and silent. Shaking herself, McKenna lugged her Pixie Hollow suitcase out from the hall closet. She kept her eyes downcast so she wouldn't see any pictures of Patrick and feel an urge to knock them off the wall.
Not knowing how long she'd be gone, McKenna packed as many jeans and shirts as could fit in the bag. She didn't have time to roll them neatly, like Grammy had taught her. She grabbed a night bag and filled it with underwear and toiletries. This was so disorienting! Was that all she needed? No, money. Where was her zebra bank?
Finally, she was packed. She checked her neck for her house key; it was hanging on a purple cord beside her locket. She checked her pocket for her phone. Looking out the window to make sure Ms. Jasmine hadn't returned, McKenna tapped in Jordan's number. She had done it so many times, she didn't even need to see.
“No.” Jordan said firmly. “No, no, no. A thousand times no.”
McKenna rolled her eyes. He could be so stubborn and obstinate at times. “Jordan, please?”
“First of all, I'm at work. I can't take off days like that. Secondly, do you even know where the jerk lives? Third, and most importantly, why would I take you there so I can watch him tear you up again?”
“He didn't tear me up,” McKenna protested. “At least, he didn't mean to. He just needs to learn a thing or two, and he's good to go. He's not really a jerk.”
“That's not the point,” Jordan said kindly. “The facts remain: He hurt you twice. I'm not about to let him do it a third time.”
“But what about what I want?” McKenna asked quietly.
“No.” Jordan said.
McKenna sighed and sat on her suitcase. “Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” Jordan was astonished. “You're not gonna argue with me about? You're not gonna even try to convince me otherwise?”
“Nope.” McKenna shook her head. She hadn't lost her determination, but she didn't have time for that. She had places to go.
“Alright.”
“Okay, goodbye.” 
“Wait, McKenna,” he said.
“Yes?” There was a moment's pause. She could hear Jordan breathing, contemplating.
“I'll pick you up in half an hour.”
McKenna's eyes grew wide with surprise. “Okay,” she said, holding back her grin. As soon as the phone hung up she screamed, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She was elated.

 

Half an hour later, Ms. Jasmine pulled into her driveway. She unlocked her door and Kayden ran inside yelling, “Akenna! Akenna!” He ran through the house, then back to his mother. “Mommy, where's Akenna?”
“McKenna's...” Ms. Jasmine's eyes fell on the kitchen table. There, the spare key lay atop a post-it that simply said 'Don't worry; I'll be fine.' “Gone.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“If you lay down and make a BABY
stand up and be a DADDY.”

“So, what did you tell your boss?” McKenna asked.
“Uh...” Jordan smiled and rubbed his unshaven face. “Told him I had a family emergency. Didn't know when I'd be back.”
“Well, thank you.” McKenna said, “I really need to find him.”
“I know,” Jordan said. “That's why I agreed to this. I don't want to stand in the way of your happiness.” He sighed. “Besides, I know you. You weren't gonna take no for an answer. Next thing, I'd have Ms. Jaz calling me, telling me you disappeared. I would much rather be in on this escapade, so I can keep my eye on you.”
“Oh, whatever,” McKenna laughed. He was right. “Ms. Jasmine would never let me go and Grammy would make a thousand excuses for me to stay. But I have to find him! I know he only left because he thought that's what was best for me. He wanted to stay; I know he did.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?” McKenna was incredulous.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I believe you believe it. I'm glad you have such faith in him, but he's gotta do some serious backtracking and proving before I ever see him through your eyes.”
McKenna smiled and touched her locket through her shirt. 'Through our eyes we can't understand when life doesn't go as planned, but when through His eyes we see, everything was meant to be.' Maybe someday she would discover that meaning.

They were speeding (not illegal speeding, but going fast) on a highway. McKenna rolled down the window and let the wind blow her hair like all the girls did in movies. It was a beautiful day.
“Being the matured age I am,” Jordan began.
“You're twenty-two,” McKenna scrunched her eyebrows. “Only seven years my senior.”
“Yes,” he said, “being seven years your senior, I can't help but think of how Ms. Jaz is probably feeling right now, and how your grandmother will feel when she arrives to your absence on Friday.”
“Ms. Jasmine most likely called her already,” McKenna said confidently. “And as soon as we get out of the state, I'll call. I promise.”
He sighed. Sometimes, it was pretty conflicting to be seven years McKenna's senior. “Okay.”
“Hey,” McKenna shot him a sly look. “Remember the last time we rode in your truck together, without Jace?”
“No...” Jordan kept his eyes on the road. “What happened?”
“And you yelled at me and practically threw me out on the cold street,” she laughed loudly. “Remember?”
“I did not throw you out on the street,” he said. “I walked you to your door, if I recall correctly.”
“You don't,” McKenna grinned. “Anyway, that's what it felt like at the time. It was like you were the wicked-wizard-of the west and I was the poor Dorothy.” She sighed theatrically.
“And does the poor Dorothy also remember why she was thrown cruelly onto a cold, marbled street?” Jordan played along. “Could it be because she was a naughty girl?”
“Whatever.” McKenna grouched and crossed her arms, slouching in her seat.
That day seemed so far from her mind. It had just happened, but McKenna had so many other, better, more important things to think about. Brooke and Elliot were stuck back at Bradford High, but she was on an incredible mission.
  Life used to be so normal! She was McKenna Skye, an average teenager. She had a boyfriend with normal divorced parents. She went to high school. She had normal friends. She lived with her grandmother because of a devastating experience she couldn't remember. All in all, she had lived a very normal life. Then, Patrick came and upset everything. And McKenna was sure she would never return to normal land.
“So, he lives in Georgia,” Jordan mused. “Do you know a city? Atlanta, Savannah, Summertown?”
“Uh uh,” McKenna shook her head. “He didn't say. He didn't really talk about where he lived and stuff. I guess because he didn't want to slip up.”
“Or he could have just told you, 'hey, look, McKenna, I used to be a jerk. So before I came back to you, I got a little married and had a kid. Hope you don't mind.'”
“Shut up!” McKenna reached over and socked him. “That's not even funny!”
“I'm just saying!” Jordan protested. “It would have been so much easier to lay out all the cards and let you decide what you wanted to do with them. He got himself into this mess.”
“He probably was planning to tell us. Then, he met me, got scared, and changed his mind.” McKenna gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“See? That's not fair. He didn't give you a fair chance. He just got scared and started hiding things.”
“Jordan! I said I was going to crucify him!”
Jordan laughed. “Wow. That's a drastic punishment.”
“Yeah,” McKenna grimaced. “I was pretty cruel. I was the one who didn't give him a chance.”
“Can't blame you for that,” he said. “Did you always hate him? What was it like when you were little?”
“When I was little...” McKenna frowned in her cute 'I'm thinking' way, “I don't really know. Grammy always told me he just disappeared and she didn't know where he was. We didn't have pictures. I think maybe she threw them all away so she wouldn't remember. She didn't talk much about him- or my mom. He just wasn't there. I had zero memories, so it was normal.
“Then, in the 3rd grade, I read A Little Princess. I went off on this tangent, thinking he was gonna come back. Every night I stood by my window and chanted 'My daddy had to go away. He'll come again another day. Any moment I may see, my daddy coming back to me.' It was crazy. Like, I could deal with my mom being dead, but knowing he was somewhere out there... I would come home from school yelling, 'Daddy! Grammy, is Daddy here yet?' Then one day she just sat me down and told me I needed to be realistic, that he was probably dead.”
“That's when you started hating him?”
“No,” McKenna laughed. “I remember that exact day. It was when I met Ashleigh. The first time I slept over at her house. Her dad was... something I had never been fortunate enough to experience. He was actually her step-dad, but it didn't matter. He was so amazing I threw up and called Grammy to get me early. Hated Patrick ever since.” And made God a figment of the imagination. Like Santa Claus.
“Aww,” Jordan said. “That's actually pretty sad.”
“Do you hate your mother?” McKenna asked suddenly. She had never dared ask Jace.
“Lauren?” Jordan sighed. “No, I don't hate her. She's a load on my mind and heart, but nah, I don't hate her.”
“Does Jace?”
“He says he does, but I think that's just a guise for what he's really feeling. He never wants to talk about her; I think he's scared it's his fault.”
“It's not his fault, is it?” McKenna frowned.
“No.” Jordan shook his head. “Even when Lauren was here, she wasn't really here. I practically raised Jace myself.”
“I remember,” she nodded. “She was always gone. And she didn't come to talent shows and stuff that we did in middle school. When we ever saw her, she looked like a model or actress or something. I asked Grammy. She said some people aren't the family type.”
“Yeah. She wasn't happy. She wanted a different life.”
“If I had two kids, I think I would be happy,” McKenna said softly. “If I had any kid, I would be happy just to have them. Even if everything else was bad, your kids should make you happy. I think.”
“Me too.” Jordan faintly said.
The sky darkened as they drove on. It looked like it might rain inside and outside the car. Jordan drove on, sadness darkening his features. McKenna sat with her fists angrily propping up her face.
She didn't like when parents shirked their responsibilities. They were adults for heaven's sake! If she ever had a baby, she would never leave it behind. How could you do that? How could you not want a child that came from you? McKenna sighed in absolute frustration.
“You love her?” McKenna demanded.
“Yeah, I do.” Jordan answered without any hesitation.
She sighed again and rested her head against the seat. “I know. I love him too.”

 

“Where are we?” McKenna yawned.
“Guess.” Jordan smiled at her.
“Uh, Georgia?” She desperately wished it could be true. The sun was just beginning to rise. The car's digital clock read 5:52.
“Guess again,” he smirked. “Take an educated guess this time.”
“Pennsylvania?”
“Nope.”
“But hey, no fair!” she exclaimed, “I don't know how long you've been driving. After all, I just woke up.”
“I've been driving for about eleven hours,” he said, “While you effortlessly dreamed of- what do sixteen-year old girls dream about, One Direction? Anyway, while you dreamed, I merely paused for a three hour nap in a cornfield. We just got back on the road. The sudden engine probably woke you from your beauty sleep.”
McKenna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “First of all, I'm not sixteen. I'm fifteen.”
“Oh, right. Same thing.”
“And I do not like One Direction. And, I'm allowed to sleep. I was up for like twenty-four hours before, remember? My long beauty sleep is justified. And, for your information, I dreamed of a cow that was kidnapped by Halle Berry and given to Adam Levine and I to raise in outer space.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows. “O-kay.”
“Are you tired? You can sleep more if you want.” McKenna generously offered. “And after that, you should probably shave. You have way more than a five o' clock shadow.”
“Unfortunately,” Jordan said, “I didn't have time for a packing list like you did. I didn't remember my razor.”
“Uh-oh. Maybe we can buy one. I didn't even have a packing list! Just, my brain is very organized and I...  I don't know!”
He rolled his eyes. “Forget my razor. Forget my sleep. We'll be there in six hours. I suggest, McKenna darling, you think of where you are going to find one very hidden man in the state of the peach.”
“We're in North Carolina, aren't we,” she said in a matter-of-fact way.
“How'd you guess?” He looked toward her in surprise.
“Well, it's not very hard when you're awake and looking out the window and all the cars around you are sporting North Carolina license plates,” she blinked innocently. “Duh.”
“Okay, missy.” Jordan said. “Quiet that mouth and put your brain to use.”
“I already did!” She squealed, “when I was sleeping, I remembered.”
“I thought you dreamt of a pig!” Jordan was indignant.
“It was a cow, Jordan. The cow's name was Ernie and he was carrying a paper in his mouth. So when Halle Berry gave the cow to me, I saw the paper. It was the same picture of Patrick and his wife and kid. Then, Ernie dropped the picture and I saw the back of it. It said Chantal Charm Photography. So, it might not be the greatest idea cuz there might be more than one Chantal Charm Photography, but I was thinking we could look it up.”
“That's sounds like a great idea,” Jordan said. “But how in the world did you remember the photography studio's name from seeing the picture one time?”
“I don't think I remembered it,” McKenna's nose wrinkled. “But maybe when I saw the picture on the floor, my subconscious picked up the details. That's probably why I saw it in a dream.”
“Wow.” Jordan was truly in awe. “Smart subconscious.”
“Hey, look!” McKenna scrolled down on her iphone. “Chantal Charm Photography is a small photography studio in Atlanta, Georgia... So, Atlanta?”
“Atlanta it is.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“A deadbeat thinks of the person in the mirror... not the child in the shadow.”

 

“I'm supposed to be in American Literature right now,” McKenna laughed. “Isn't that funny?”
“Don't remind me,” Jordan groaned. “I feel so irresponsible, chauffeuring you across the states when you should be in school.”
“School's practically over!” McKenna protested. “Besides, we're just reviewing stuff. I know everything: 'Call me Ishmael,' Moby Dick, Herman Melville. It's one of the most-recognized opening lines of the greatest classics. Blah blah blah.”
Jordan chuckled. “I'm sure your teacher would be proud of you.” He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine.
“No,” McKenna jumped out the truck and stretched her limbs. “Mr. Jareds is never proud of anyone. He thinks anything you do is a duty. Ms. Jasmine said...” McKenna trailed off and turned a guilty face to Jordan. “I forgot.”
“Forgot what she said?”
“No, I forgot to call her,” McKenna chewed her bottom lip nervously.
“Well, call her before we go inside.” Jordan sat on the back of his truck. “Tell her you're in Georgia and that you're safe.”
McKenna ducked her head and nodded. Ms. Jasmine answered on the first ring. “McKenna Arielle Skye! Where are you? I'll pick you up.”
“I'm-” McKenna winced, “in Georgia?”
“GEORGIA!!!” Ms. Jasmine's yelp was so loud Jordan's hands flew instinctively to his ears. “McKenna, how did you get there? What are you doing!”
“I'm looking for my dad. I told you not to worry.”
“Oh, and that's gonna miraculously keep me from worrying? It doesn't work like that, McKenna. You telling me not to worry causes me greater fear.”
“Sorry to worry you,” McKenna said. “I just need to find him and you never would have let me go.”
“Got that right.” Ms. Jasmine sighed into the phone. “Did you eat?”
“The turkey and tomato sandwich you gave me yesterday, yeah.”
Again Ms. Jasmine sighed. “Okay, let me talk to Jordan.”
“How...?”
“You're not that foolish, McKenna. I know you're not out traipsing through the country alone. I know you didn't take the bus. And that boy's just as crazy as you are. I'm gonna box the both of y'all when y'all get home.”
McKenna smiled. Nobody needed to know that busing was her plan B. She handed the phone to Jordan and gave him an apologetic shrug.
Jordan walked away from McKenna to speak with Ms. Jasmine privately. She hoped he wasn't getting in too much trouble. She knew Ms. Jasmine wouldn't be angry but anxious. When he came back, McKenna caught the tail end of the conversation.
“I'm not starving her!” Jordan exclaimed. “She didn't tell me she was hungry.”
“I am, though,” McKenna told him after he hung up. He just gave her a look and stalked off. He wasn't mad, McKenna knew. But Ms. Jasmine had probably scolded him more than she had McKenna. After all, he was seven years her senior.


“Hi,” McKenna smiled shyly at the receptionist. “I'm... Um... I'm looking for... Is there a bathroom I can use?”
The blue-haired woman pointed her to the hallway. Jordan followed after her. “What are you doing?” He hissed in her ear.
“I'm going to the bathroom,” McKenna explained. “I've been cooped up in a car for ages. Not even a car, a truck. So I have to use the bathroom. Plus, I'm scared. I don't know what to say to her.”
Jordan sighed. He was exhausted. God forbid he ever had to do this again. “Look, go use the bathroom. I'll wait right here. When you come out, I'll talk to the lady. Then, we can go get something for you to eat, okay?”
“Okay.” McKenna gave him a hug. “Oh, and did you see her hair! Almost more awesome than the time Ms. Jasmine dyed hers violet.”

 

“Good afternoon, ma-am,” Jordan turned on his charmer voice, “I'm Jordan Nohls.”
“Nohls...” The receptionist typed something into the computer. “Do you have an appointment or are you here for pick-up?”
“Neither. I'm wondering about a man who came in here a while ago. Patrick Skye. I'm sure you have him on record.” Jordan smiled at her and gestured toward the computer.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” McKenna tiptoed and whispered urgently in his ear. “You better not.”  As a once broken-hearted girl (wow, she suddenly realized she no longer had a broken heart), she was sensitive to those type of things. Jordan's girlfriend would not be thrilled at his body language or facial expressions toward the receptionist.
“Patrick Skye.” Her name tag said Marisol and she had three rings in each ear. “Yes, he was here in January.”
“Great, that's great,” Jordan said. “Uh, could I get his address? I'm sure you have that too. Or his number?”
“You can have my number,” Marisol said flirtatiously. McKenna narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. This girl was asking for some serious butt-whupping. And McKenna didn't mind doing it.
“Yeah, sweet,” Jordan laughed a little. “But I really need this guy's number. Or his address. It's super important.”
“I'm sure it is, but I can't give it to you. I'm sorry. We don't give out personal information; it's against our policy.”
“It's really, really important!” McKenna piped up. “He's my dad. I'm looking for him. Please?”  She clasped her hands and gave Marisol the saddest face she could make. Except the face wasn't fake. It was truly how McKenna felt: a little melancholic, a little hopeful, a little fearsome.
“Pretty please!” Jordan chimed in. He tried to imitate McKenna's puppy dog face with the big, sad-looking eyes. It was nowhere near as poignant as McKenna's.
Marisol laughed. “I can't give you any information, but you can speak to my boss. Just take a seat over there and I'll get her.”
“Thanks.” Jordan smiled after her.
“Ooh, Jordan.” McKenna said. She sat on one of the comfy blue chairs and raised an eyebrow.
“Nah,” he said. “No girlfriend.”
McKenna gave him a look of skepticism, then focused her attention on her surroundings. Chantal Charm Photography's waiting room was almost like the one at Sears Portrait Studio. Probably all photography studios had portraits all over the walls. Here they didn't only have photographs of people, but pictures of animals and inanimate objects. McKenna's favorite was one of red leaves on a bank of snow.
“You really liked her?” McKenna broke the silence. “She isn't your type.”
“Oh ho ho,” Jordan laughed. “I have a type?”
“Everybody has a type. I don't know yours, but I'm positive you don't like girls like her. She wasn't very tight.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Jordan questioned. “She wasn't tight meaning... wavy? Swaggy? Angry?”
“Nuh-uh,” McKenna shook her head. “I mean, she was loose. What kind of self-respecting, self-confident girl does the whole giggly 'you can have my number' thingamajig? That was sick. You don't offer your number to a guy. You wait for him to ask for it, then you give him a coy look. Even I know that and I'm only fifteen.”
“Had a lot of experience, huh? I thought you liked her.”
“No, she was ugh. She was blah. I just wanted my dad's address.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of another woman. She wasn't at all like Marisol, McKenna observed. She seemed confident and stable, dressed in a loose, olive dress with sienna, strapped sandals. A pair of coffee stirrers held her dark hair up. Glancing at her left hand, McKenna noticed the simple, yet elegant, ring. She was married.
Truthfully, Marisol looked really bad beside her. She might have thought she looked good in her too-tight, hot pink shirt and ripped jeans. She might have thought her blue hair and excessive jewelry looked cool, but to be honest, her boss looked stunning. And Marisol just looked like a lost girl trying to find herself.
“Hello, I'm Chantal,” the attractive woman held out her hand to Jordan. He stood up instantly and grasped it in a firm hold. McKenna stood too and Chantal also shook her hand.
“I'm Jordan and this is McKenna,” Jordan said. “I'm not sure if Marisol told you-”
“She did,” Chantal responded, giving Marisol a warm smile. “Thanks, honey. Would you e-mail the Andersons about the canvases for me?” After Marisol took off, Chantal continued. “She did, and like she said, we don't give out our customers' personal information.”
“I get the whole policy thing,” McKenna said before Jordan could answer. “I get it, but aren't there supposed to be exceptions to every rule? We came here all the way from New York. Your photography place was the only clue we had. I have no other way to get my dad's contact information and I really need to see him. It's not like I'm gonna break into his house or something!”
“You do look like him,” Chantal commented.
“Did you take that picture yourself? Of him and his... family?”
“No, one of my employees must have. I do know your father and his family, though. Avalon is one of my closest friends. We went to high-school together in Jersey and somehow ended up in the same state.”
“So you know her. You think she would mind you giving us her address?”
“McKenna,” Chantal placed what she hoped would be a comforting hand on McKenna's shoulder. Judging from the stiffening of McKenna's body, it wasn't. “Regardless of what I think, I still cannot give out information like that. If you would like, I can call Patrick or Avalon and have them come pick you up.”
“I don't want him to know I'm coming,” McKenna explained. “ I kinda imagined just appearing at his door and surprising the life out of him. Then, I could see his reaction before he has a chance to hide it.”
“I'm sorry.” Chantal simply said.
McKenna stared at her. “Okay,” she whispered, then turned abruptly and started off.
“I'm sorry,” Jordan apologized to Chantal, backing up as he spoke. “Thanks for your time.” He almost ran out of the building. “McKenna!”
“Can you believe that bogusness?” She asked him. He didn't answer until they were both in the car, he having unlocked it first.
“Bogusness?”
“Words of Travie McCoy.” She smiled a little. “But seriously. She made me mad. That was the only, only piece of anything I had of him! And it was just a tiny scrap of memory or dream. I have no idea where I would ever find him. Not even an Avalon is listed in the Atlanta phonebook.”
“Did you try the White Pages?”
“There's no Avalon Skye. Unless she kept her maiden name and I should call the two Avalons in Atlanta. Avalon Reed and Avalon Shapiro.” McKenna rubbed her burning eyes and swallowed past the growing lump in her throat.
“No.” Jordan stopped in front of a Taco Bell. “Take a break. We'll get some food and then walk a bit to clear our heads.”
“I'm not feeling very hungry,” McKenna chewed her thumbnail.
“Stop stressing,” he gently pulled her finger from her mouth. “You never bite your nails.”
“Well, I used to have a boyfriend to look beautiful for,” she smirked. “And all I really want to eat is Grammy's paella. I feel like she's been gone forever. Three weeks is long.”
Taco Bell's door jingled when they entered. “You gotta eat,” Jordan said. “I don't want you passing out. And you don't need perfect nails to look beautiful.”
Soft beef tacos in hand, Jordan and McKenna strolled down the sidewalk. It was nice to be in Georgia. Everyone smiled and drawled hello as they walked past. Nobody rushed past or pushed them out the way. Everyone's pace was the same: easy. Unlike New York, it seemed as if the people here had a thousand hours in their day.
At their slow walk, it was easy for anyone to overtake them. “Here's what you need,” Chantal said when she had. “Patrick's address and some simple directions.”
“How did you find us?” Jordan inquired.
“Not hard,” Chantal said. “You're only about ten minutes on foot from my studio. I walked a little, asked around, and most passersby recalled seeing two aliens.”
Only Jordan and Alicia laughed at the... joke? McKenna hoped that's not what it was, because it would be a sorry excuse for one. Maybe it was one of those “grown-up jokes.” For the sake of his youth, McKenna desperately hoped Jordan's laugh was to be polite, not because he was humored.
“How come you suddenly decided to override your policy?” McKenna asked, still not happy with Chantal or Chantal Charm Photography. If she ever needed a family portrait, she would use Sears Portrait Studio. Actually, she could just paint one.
“I called Avalon.” Chantal said. “She told me it was fine to relay the information to you. She also promised not to tell Patrick.”
“So she's expecting us,” Jordan stated.
“Yes.” Chantal nodded.
“Thank you,” McKenna finally accepted the sheet of paper Chantal offered. She stared at it, the key to a possible future with her dad. 4400 Ashford Dunwoody Rd NE, Atlanta, GA 30346. Chantal's handwriting was strange, but beautiful.

“We're here,” Jordan's voice softly broke into her thoughts. He let out a breath of relief when her eyes rose to meet his. He had been scared she would become unresponsive again. Terrified, actually. McKenna talking too much, McKenna being rude, McKenna laughing, McKenna vocal. Anything of her was great, but Jordan didn't know how to deal with McKenna silent.
“I'm so afraid,” McKenna told him, tears rising like the tide in her eyes.
“I know,” he said. “But I'm right here.” He got out the truck and came around the passenger side. He pulled the door open and took McKenna's hand, helping her jump down. “It's gonna be fine.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“To be in your children's memories tomorrow,
you have to be in their lives today.”

 

Avalon. The second thing McKenna noticed about her was her pretty hazel eyes. They were big and framed by dark blonde lashes. She dimpled when she smiled. She had freckles. And reddish blonde hair. McKenna saw all this after her eyes landed on the very first thing she noticed: Avalon's expanded abdomen. She was pregnant. Very, very pregnant.
“McKenna, hi,” Avalon smiled and let them in the house.
McKenna tried to smile, but all she felt was a pang of sadness. “Hi. Um, this is Jordan. He drove me here.”
After shaking Jordan's hand, Avalon led them to the living room and sank into a bole recliner. “Sorry,” she said, “I can't stand for too long.”
“When are you due?” Jordan asked politely.
“In a couple of weeks. May 28th.”
` “Where's my dad?” McKenna interrupted their conversation. She was not very thrilled about the baby. Newborns were great, but it just made the whole thing worse. She could understand why Patrick had kept it a secret, but she felt like she wasn't even a part of his family.
“He went out with Lucas a while ago. They should be back soon.”
McKenna nodded. She wanted to get out of here. The living room was like a forest or inside garden. Way too many plants! They gave her an itchy feeling.
Avalon directed Jordan to a room where he could nap. With his eyes, he apologized to McKenna  for leaving her alone with Patrick's wife. She forgave him. He really was tired after that long drive. It was wonderful of him to bring her here.
“Are you hungry?” Avalon asked McKenna after they had sat in silence a while.
“Yes,” she didn't lie. “But I want to wait until my dad comes. Um, were you okay with him leaving you for so long? I mean, with the baby?”
Avalon laughed. “He wanted to wait until after the baby was born, but I said, 'Ricky, stop procrastinating.'”
“He said that he had never told you about me, but you read his book and knew. How did you know?”
“Mmm,” Avalon sighed. “I had suspected for a while. When I became pregnant with Lucas, I could see all these feelings of pain. He cried when Lucas was born. He told me it was nothing, so I didn't pry. I didn't know for sure about you until I read Every Little Princess. I don't know how I knew, but I could just tell that he had been a father before Lucas.”
“I'm still kind of upset about that,” McKenna admitted. “Like, I didn't even know his son's name until you said it just now. I didn't even know he had a son before Sunday. That makes me mad. He lied to me.”
“By leaving out important facts, you mean?” Avalon asked. “And pretending he was what he wasn't?”
“Yeah.” McKenna said. “He was deceitful. Like, he said when you read his manuscript, you called him and said, 'Rick, go find your little princess.' But if he was married to you, you didn't call him, did you? You lived with him.”
“No, I didn't call him on a phone. I did call his name, but you're right. That's deceitful.”
“So he told you why I was mad?”
“Yes.” Avalon smiled. “He finally learned not to keep things from me. I'll find out somehow, someway.” She rubbed her swollen belly thoughtfully. “McKenna, I think he learned his lesson. He was really upset when he came home. He thought he had lost you.”
“Well, I'm here,” McKenna shrugged and raised her eyebrows.
“I'm glad,” Avalon said. “I wanted to meet you from the very second I found out of your existence. When Chantal called me, I was so excited! I couldn't wait for you to come.”
“She was so difficult,” McKenna pouted. “She made me mad.”
Avalon laughed. “That's Chantal. Stubborn as an ox and a stickler for the rules. You'll warm up to her, don't worry. Ooh,” she groaned a little, “McKenna, want to feel the baby?”
McKenna felt so nervous touching the belly of someone she had just met. She bit her lip, a little excited, and placed her hand where Avalon's had been. She felt a sharp angle protruding through Avalon's skin and navy shirt.
“I hope that's not his head!” McKenna exclaimed. “The last thing I need is a little brother with a hard head.”
A loud laugh burst out of Avalon. “No, that's his heel. Although I'm not sure if it's a he. I like to keep the gender of my babies a surprise.”
“Oh,” McKenna said softly, still looking at Avalon's stomach in awe. “Does it hurt?” She felt her heart growing warm to the baby bump.
“I sure feel it,” Avalon answered. “I don't know if it hurts. I'm used to the feeling, but I can tell you it really hurts when the baby starts kicking. This one's playful.”
“So what do you do when he kicks?”
“I usually just breathe deep, but when it gets bad, I drink warm milk in hopes it will calm him. Is this your first time touching a pregnant belly?”
“Mmm hmmm,” McKenna smiled. She was so happy. Her heart felt full of love and forgiveness. Avalon wasn't a stranger; she seemed like family. McKenna was comfortable with her. In fact, she felt at home sitting on the arm of Avalon's chair and stroking her stomach. And now she couldn't wait for the baby to be born!

 

“The armchair ag-” Patrick's voice trailed off. He stood in the doorway as still as a wall. With obvious disbelief, he stared at the picture before him. McKenna, the daughter he thought he would never again see, was perched on the arm of Avalon's favorite chair. Her head rested on Avalon's shoulder while her right hand lightly caressed Avalon's tummy. Rays of sunlight streamed through the window, causing both their faces to glow.
“Mc-” Patrick's throat was so dry. He tried again. “Mc-” Was she really there? Or was she a hallucination- a figment of his imagination? He dared himself to walk forward. Trembling slightly, Patrick reached out a hand and touched her cheek.
Slowly, McKenna's eyes opened. “Daddy?” She blinked. Was she dreaming? She patted her cheek where the touch had been. No. It was real. “Your hands are cold.”
“McKenna.” Patrick was so incredulous he could barely say her name. His chest heaved with heart-wrenching sobs. “McKenna, baby, you're here!” Smiling, Avalon watched as Patrick lifted McKenna from her seat. He hugged her tightly. “McKenna, McKenna, McKenna...” It was all he could say.
McKenna was a pretty good sport about it until she had had enough. “Okay, okay.” She struggled to escape his embrace. “Yes, I'm here. Hi. You're suffocating me, Patrick.”
“Am I? I'm sorry.” Patrick still didn't let go. He held to McKenna's shoulders and looked her up and down. “Are you okay, baby? Is everything okay? Why did you come here? How did you even get here? What's wrong?” He wasn't the only one who knew how to blurt a string of questions.
“I'm fine!” She faked exasperation. “Jordan drove me here. It was against his better judgment, but he did it anyway. He's sleeping in some room over there.”
“He drove you to Georgia... What's going on, honey? Tell me what's wrong.”
“ Nothing's wrong. Everything is okay, except that it's not without you. I barely survived that first night I had to live, knowing you had left forever. I mean, you just got here! You can't just leave like that.” McKenna succumbed to a second of sentiment and truth. “I need you, Dad. And it wasn't very nice of you to leave without giving us any contact information. Do you know how much work it took to find you, especially with difficult people like Chantal?”
Patrick chuckled. “Well, you wouldn't have had to go through all that work if you hadn't kicked me out in the first place.”
“And you didn't have to leave. You chose to. It's your fault cuz you shouldn't have made me so mad.” McKenna did a much-practiced neck roll.
“Whatever.”
“Hey, that's my word!” McKenna giggled. “Where's Lucas?”
“Lucas?” Patrick looked over and smiled at Avalon, who gave him a wink. “Oh, he's outside playing. The neighbor is watching him. Want to meet him?”
“Of course I want to meet him!” McKenna rolled her eyes. “He is my brother, after all.”   Patrick grinned. He extended his hand to her and she willingly took it. On their way out the door, they heard Avalon mutter something. McKenna smirked, but Patrick pretended he had heard nothing.
She had said: “See the good things that happen when you listen to your wife?”
“Lucas, come here, man,” Patrick called to his son when they got outside. The little boy left his mud pie and ran to his dad. He was cute. He took after Avalon, with his blond hair and hazel eyes. His nose was an exact replica of McKenna's, only smaller. “This is your sister, McKenna.”
“Hi,” McKenna stooped down to his level. He grinned and hid his face in Patrick's shorts. “How old are you?” McKenna asked, surprised that she cared.  It was surprising to her that she didn't hate Patrick's “other family,” as she had begun to call them in her mind. She sensed that it had something to do with Avalon. Who could ever hate her?
Lucas held up three blackened fingers. Then, he laughed and poked McKenna's stomach. “Your picture on the 'frigator.”
McKenna looked down at the dirt on her shirt. Patrick reached over and brushed at it, but she didn't care. She grinned. “My picture is on the refrigerator?”
“Yes!” The boy laughed hysterically, like it was the funniest thing in the world. He raced past McKenna, back to his world of dirt.
“Oh gosh, Patrick.” McKenna wiped a startling tear from her eye. “He's so cute. I love him.”
“Does this mean you aren't angry?” Patrick looked at her quizzically.
“I'm not angry.” McKenna smiled. “It's okay. I forgive you. I don't want to hold grudges. Ain't nobody got time for that!”
“What does this mean?” He asked once again of her forgiving spirit.
McKenna shrugged. “It means... I want you to stay around, be in my life. Please? I want to know you and Lucas and Avalon- oh, Patrick, I love Avalon. She reminds me of Ms. Jasmine. She's so understanding and down-to-earth.
“I want to be a part of your lives. I want to be here when the baby comes. I want him and Lucas to know their big sister. I'm willing to forget everything that happened before, all those years ago and last week. I just want my dad.”
“Why do you call me Patrick sometimes, and Dad at others?” Patrick asked after he finished listening. He had been wondering for some time.
“Well, you're only my father, really. Cuz to me, there's a difference between a father and a dad. A father is someone who makes a kid by supplying the sperm. A dad is someone who raises a kid and takes care of them.”
“So... I'm you're father. Basically, I've been an absent father; assumed to be dead, even. That's pretty bad. I'm sorry, Princess.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, “like, I said, it's okay. I call you Patrick cuz when I met you last month, that was who you were. Patrick. Or 'the man',” she grinned. “Definitely not my dad. It's just normal and easiest to remember. But now that you've decided to be my dad and it's cool with me, I've started calling you Dad when I remember. Pretty soon it will be normal.” She paused and bit her lip. “Wait... You have decided to be my dad, right?”
“Of course!” He said. “Yes, yes, yes. McKenna, you don't know how honored I am to be playing such a major role in your life.”
McKenna rolled her eyes. “You shouldn't be honored,” she scoffed. “It's your job.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“She's got her daddy's tongue and temper.
Sometimes her mouth could use a filter.
God shook His head when He built her.
Oh, but He smiled.”

 

Thick sandwiches of honey roasted turkey, American cheese, Romaine lettuce, sliced tomato, Dill pickles, and mayo lay on a large platter. McKenna cut the crust off of three of them for herself and Lucas. She carried the platter of sandwiches to the kitchen table along with a bowl of Nachos. Plastic cups and a pitcher of fruit punch were already there.
“All done!” McKenna announced, sinking into a chair beside Lucas. There were exactly enough chairs around the table for herself, Lucas, Patrick, Avalon, and Jordan.
“Thank you so much,” Avalon sighed. Her chair was pushed back far from the table to give the baby some breathing room.
“Welcome,” McKenna answered cheerfully. “You shouldn't be walking around making food and stuff. You look like you're gonna bust wide open.”
“Feel that way too,” Avalon muttered.
“Mama, want some juice.” Lucas whined. “I thirsty, Mama.”
“Lucas, don't bother your Mom,” McKenna told him. “And you have to ask nicely if you would like some juice.” When he asked with a please, she poured him half a cup of fruit punch.
“I'm gonna have to hit the road,” Jordan said after finishing two sandwiches. “Gotta be back in time for work tomorrow night. Is it alright if I pack a couple of these?”
“You eat like a pig,” McKenna told him, but she wrapped up a few sandwiches and some chips. Patrick smiled at her insult. He, too, devoured food like a four-legged creature.
“Are you sure you don't want to sleep the night before driving?” Avalon questioned with much concern. “We won't need the guest room.”
Jordan thanked her profusely but refused.
“Jordan,” McKenna tackled him. He didn't even falter in his step. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You're welcome, Silly.” He laughed, hugging her. “I'm glad you're happy.”
“Of course I'm happy! I've haven't been so happy since the womb!” Jordan snorted at that. “Does that mean you don't hate him so much anymore?”
“He's okay,” Jordan shrugged, slightly comforted by the knowledge of Avalon's presence. “I trust him enough to leave you here, all these miles away from me. I only ever hated him for your sake, Shrimpster. If you're cool with him, I'm cool with my antennae up.”
Her famous eye roll earned her a smile. She smiled in return, waving at his receding figure. “Bye Jordan. You're indubitably the best, hands down.”
“Call me if you need me. My number's saved in your cranium, right?”
“Of course.”

 

“Yes, ma-am,” McKenna mouthed 'yeah, yeah, yeah' to Patrick, then grinned. “How'd you guess I was doing that?  Mmm hmm. I love you too.”
“Who was that?” Patrick asked, too eager to get into the “concerned parent” mode. An easy excuse for nosiness.
“Just Ms. Jasmine. She said next time you're skipping town, leave your number so we can avoid all this extra work.”
“Well, you don't have to worry about that,” Patrick grunted. He lifted the sleeping Lucas onto his shoulder. “I won't be skipping town again.”
McKenna lifted a shoulder and dropped it. Skipping town was some serious chuleta. Grabbing Lucas' discarded sneakers, she followed Patrick up the stairs. He went down a long hallway and opened a door on the left. She nodded grimly at the walls. The boy was obviously a true dino-lover.
“So... will you guys move up to New York?” McKenna followed Patrick back down the stairs. Boredom was starting to creep over her.
“We're thinking about it,” he answered. “It's most likely. I want to be close to you and Mami won't want to move. Besides, your school is there.”
“Ugh.” McKenna gagged. “I cannot stand my school. But I would miss Jordan and Tiara. And maybe Jace... a little.”
“So we plan to start looking at houses after the baby is born.”
“You can move in with us!” McKenna ecstatically suggested. It would be perfect. Their house had three bedrooms: Patrick, Avalon, and the new baby could share one, she and Lucas could share, and Grammy would stay exactly as she was. All of her family in one house with Jordan down the street and Tiara across town. It was perfect!
“Maybe.” He didn't rule out the idea.
“And I so want to be here when the baby is born.”
“You're going home next week,” Patrick gently reminded her. “You have some V.I.T at the end of the school year, I'm told.”
Rolling her eyes, McKenna pouted a bit. “Not very important tests, just Regents.”
“Same thing.” Patrick sat at the table with a steaming cup of coffee. He opened his laptop. Microsoft Word was calling him, but he couldn't take the time to type. Three weeks away had left him far behind in his actual work.
“So...” McKenna was not willing to let her father sink into his own world. “How long are Lucas and Avalon gonna sleep?”
“Oh, honey, she's out for the night. Lucas, too.”
“What!” McKenna screeched. This she could not do. Sleep this early? “It's only eight o'clock.”
“Yes, and she's pregnant and he's only three.” Patrick replied before focusing his attention back on the screen. He muttered to himself while furiously hitting the backspace key.
A huge sigh escaped McKenna's lips. Maybe it would be better when Patrick moved to New York. Here he was boring and irritating. She was only in Georgia for a few more days and she wanted to spend time with her dad: talk to him or just have fun.
“Sorry Kenna,” Patrick didn't look up from the computer. “I really have to get this work done. They sent me a huge pile of stuff from the office today.”
“I thought you were an author.”
“I am, but it's only part-time. I can't depend on writing to support my family. That's why I work full-time as an editor. Working from home allows me to have a pretty flexible schedule, but deadlines are coming up. This, my dear, is what pays the bills.”
“Okay.” Though she didn't like it, she could understand that. Paying the bills was important. McKenna dreaded the day she finished high-school and had to do grown-up stuff like going to work, going to college, and paying bills.
Resigned to her boredom, McKenna took out her phone and watched a few of her favorite commercials.  It was fun recognizing lines and memorizing the songs. Lays/ Wouldn't It Be Yummy was a catchy tune and had great words. She liked the stupid Honda ones, especially the one with the woman and her dog. Another great commercial was Camp Old Navy/ Unlimited; it was her 2nd favorite, but her absolute number one commercial was Always/ Like a Girl.
  McKenna slumped at the table, chin resting in her palms. She was undeniably, positively bored out of her mind.
“Why don't you go next door? Introduce yourself to Terilynn?” Patrick suggested a little later.
“Who's Terilynn?” McKenna wrinkled her nose.
“Girl next door who was watching Lucas today,” he explained. “She's a nice girl, your age, I think. Go on, get out of here.”
McKenna pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, blinking exaggeratedly at her dad. “I guess it wouldn't hurt...”
“You look so much like your mom with that face on,” Patrick mused, taking his eyes fully from the computer to McKenna. She beamed at the compliment.

 

“I'm so happy to meet you!” Terilynn hugged McKenna as if she had known her all her life. It was weird, but the hug was more normal than awkward.
The girls stepped back, silently taking each other in. Terilynn had beautiful cocoa skin that glowed when she was smiling, like now. She had a cute afro, held back by a flowered scarf. At 5'6'', McKenna stood a couple of inches above her.
“I didn't think I would ever meet you,” the girl continued. “Mr. Skye told me he was going to see you, but when he came back I realized things hadn't gone well at all. I recognized you outside earlier from the picture Mr. Skye showed me, but I didn't want to be intrusive and come introduce myself.” After that last sentence, Terilynn stopped and took a few breaths. “Your dad talks about you all the time.”
“Like what?” McKenna grinned.
“You like to paint and draw and stuff. You're really sarcastic, but he finds it endearing. You like pizza and pasta and Italian things like that. You're spunky and he hates punishing you cuz your expressions make him want to laugh.”
“He said that?” McKenna laughed. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” Terilynn nodded. “But come on, let's go inside. Jessie's on, we can watch until eleven; that's when my mom gets home. My dad left for work already. You can meet him tomorrow, if you want.”
“Okay,” McKenna agreed. Terilynn spoke in a drawl, yet really fast. There would be no awkward silence around her.
“I know Mr. Skye musta told you I'm Terilynn, but call me Teri.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Being a great father is like shaving. No matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow.”

 

“So I'm going to let you off in front of the store,” Patrick explained to McKenna. “You'll take Lucas in his stroller and get the groceries.”
“Check.”
“You sure that's not too much for you, honey?” Avalon turned as much as she could against the constraint of the seatbelt. Even through her white, violet-trimmed maternity shirt, McKenna could see the huge lump of her belly. “We can take Lucas with us.”
“But Patr- Dad said he acts up during your appointment and he's too little to stay in the waiting room by himself.”
“I not!” Lucas laughed and struck out at McKenna. Fortunately for her, she was sitting too far for his little arm to reach her. “I big like a tcharacorex!”
“A what?” McKenna raised an eyebrow and faced the front for a translation. 
“Tyrannosaurus Rex,” Avalon said. “He likes to memorize dinosaur names.”
Future nerd? McKenna shrugged, reached over, and kissed her little brother's cheek. When the vehicle came to a stop, she got the stroller onto the sidewalk and unfolded. “You guys should only take about an hour, right?”
“That or less,” Patrick nodded his confirmation.
“Ready to go, buddy?” McKenna strapped Lucas in and wheeled the stroller through the automatic doors of Piggly Wiggly. “I guess Mommy and Daddy have been neglecting this chore,” she muttered at the sight of the grocery list. It was, to put mildly, extensive.
“Mama forgot nuggets,” Lucas called from his seat down below. “Don't forget nuggets.”
“Nuggets...” she trailed the list with her eyes. There they were: Dino-shaped chicken nuggets for kids. Yum yum.
After she found his nuggets in the frozen foods aisle, Lucas became jubilant. The box of nuggets didn't have names to match with the dinosaur shapes, but still he knew them. “Velociraptor!” he crowed happily.
McKenna shook her head in wonder. He was one smart three-year old. She had only discovered the word “velociraptor” last year during a Biology unit.
As she she focused her attention on the list again, she realized there was no way she could collect all the groceries without a shopping cart. With a sigh, McKenna grabbed an abandoned one. Lucas went in the front and the folded stroller in the back. Problem solved.
“Menna,” Lucas whined. He had added a new name to her stack. So far she was Akenna, Kenny, Kenna, Ken, Shrimp, Shrimpster, Princess, and now, Menna.
“Yes?” McKenna answered with more than a hint of annoyance. She maneuvered the cart into the shortest line.
“I hungry!” He crossed his arms and pouted.
“Wait, Lucas. You can get a snack after we buy all this stuff.”
“I hungry now!” Lucas' eyebrows scrunched down. He began to kick the cart-and McKenna- with his little, scabby legs. He looked about ready to engage in a full-blown tantrum and she sure was not down for that.”
“I said to wait.” As discreetly as she could in a busy store, McKenna smacked his hand twice. Instead of crying as expected, Lucas put his hand to his mouth and stared wide-eyed at her. “What, nobody's ever spanked you before?”
“I not bad,”  Lucas' bottom lip trembled.
“Of course you aren't bad,” she said kindly. “You just need a little help behaving.” No wonder Lucas acted up all the time. Patrick and Avalon didn't spank him! If her grandmother hadn't used a paddle on her, she would be rotten as a Granny Smith apple. For someone who had written a book on raising a child, Patrick needed a lot of help with his. Both of them.
“Aren't you a tad bit young to be a mother?” The nosy, judgmental, presumptuous cashier scanned the last of McKenna's items.
“He's my brother,” McKenna spit out, glad she could avoid the “aren't you a tad bit young to have a debit card” question since Patrick had given her cash. Georgia was a trip! Didn't teenage pregnancies occur here? Maybe the little old lady had just crawled out of her turtle shell.
She had been tempted to shock the woman and say, “Too young to be a mother? No, I'm fifteen. Lucas is my fourth. Would you like to see pictures of the other three?” If she was in New York she would have done it, but she didn't want to give Patrick any unnecessary problems.

 

It was six o' clock and the sun was beginning to set. One hour had turned into four and McKenna was beyond frustrated. She sat outside Piggly Wiggly on a bench, holding tight to the shopping cart that contained a boatload of groceries and a sleeping child. After whining for a good hour or so, Lucas had stuck his cheese-covered fingers in his mouth and promptly fell asleep.
Trusting the neighborhood to be a good one, McKenna rested her head on the cart and let her eyes close.
“McKenna!” Patrick jogged across the parking lot towards the store's entrance.
“I didn't disappear.” McKenna stood and adjusted her emerald green shirt. “Here's your change. $2.29”
“Thanks, hon. Sorry we took so long. I realized too late that Avalon was scheduled for Lamaze today, as well as her regular check-up. I started to call you, but I don't have your number.”
“Yeah.” Together they packed the trunk. “You also didn't realize that I couldn't exactly push a stroller and a cart at the same time.”
“Mmm.” Patrick buckled Lucas into his car seat. “I forgot that you're only one person. Usually I push the stroller while Avalon gets the groceries.”
“Let's just not do this again.” McKenna firmly stated, slamming the car door behind her for finality. “Avalon, how's my baby?” Funny how it had become “her baby.”
“Clear, strong heartbeat,” Avalon smiled widely at McKenna. “Very healthy. Here, I got a sound recording for you. And a picture. Don't tell me what the baby is, though,” she warned. “I still don't know.”
McKenna frowned at the fuzzy picture. The fetus was pretty big. She could instantly tell the gender! “Aww, the baby is so cute! Just look at her eyes and his nose. Do you think it will look anything like me?”
“McKenna, hush,” Avalon laughed. 
McKenna smiled. She absentmindedly fingered her locket. What would her mom think of Avalon? Only Patrick or Grammy could know because McKenna hadn't known her long enough to even know what she thought of her own daughter. But Avalon was cool. She wasn't fake or disgustingly all over Patrick. She didn't try to replace or be McKenna's mother. She was just nice.

“Want to get some pizza?” Patrick straddled a chair in the kitchen.
“As long as I don't have to actually go and get it,” McKenna mumbled. Her head stayed glued to the table. “I'm too tired.”
“No, Avalon's ordering.”
“You still haven't proved to me that you can actually cook,” McKenna said, raising her head and resting her chin on her arms.
“I made you pasta, didn't I?” he protested.
“Doesn't count. Anybody can do that.”
“Okay, okay,” he relented. “You're right. I haven't cooked. We probably aren't going to really use the stove for a month or so, but after the baby comes, I'll make dinner for you. That's a promise. Deal?”
“I'm not even going to be here.”
“We're gonna try to get a house quickly, but if we can't, I'll fly you down for a visit, okay?” He poked her stomach. “Okay? I'm not gonna let you stay far from me for too long.”
McKenna nodded, trying to swallow her melancholy feelings. She wasn't usually this mopey, but she had a bad sensation in her lower abdomen. Maybe it was PMS.
“Am I disturbing?” Avalon stepped from the hallway into the kitchen. Her bare feet made a 'pad pad squeak pad' sound on the linoleum. “Your mom is on the phone.”
Patrick took the time to smile and gesture for Avalon to come before saying to McKenna, “And you were a great help today.”

“Hi Grammy,” McKenna smiled into the phone. Finally, after weeks of adventure, her beloved grandmother! “No, of course I didn't forget. Hola Abuelita... Are you angry?”
“McKenna, no,” Lilliana's voice was simultaneously familiar and strange. “Surprised? Si. I wasn't sure you would relent your stubborn will, but the beautiful pictures showed me different. Soy tan feliz!”
“Patrick's house is so nice, Abuela. He has lots of rooms, but he said he's going to move to New York soon. I'm flying in on Sunday. Oh, how was your flight, by the way?”
“It was nice. I just arrived home and I am muy cansado.”
“Aww!” McKenna fake pouted. “Okay. I missed you so much, Grammy. I'll call you before I board the plane on Sunday. T'amo!”
“I am very, very proud of you, Mamasita.”
“Okay.” McKenna grinned. “Bye.”
“She's good?” Patrick asked.
“Yes. And she did not say to tell you hi. She didn't even ask about you! But I told her you were gonna move up to New York soon. Hopefully she has time to prepare herself.”
“For what?” Patrick asked indignantly.
McKenna raised her eyebrows and her left shoulder in a half shrug. She reached into the fridge for a can of Orange Crush. Innocently tossing the can from hand to hand, she stepped closer to Patrick. “All I know is that when you walked into my life, you was like... this.” And with that, she held out the can of soda and popped the top, allowing it to fizz and bubble all over her father.

  “Just to the mall and maybe the movies,” McKenna buckled her black sandals. “Jeez, Dad. You don't have to worry so much.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Avalon punched Patrick's arm playfully. “Lighten up.”
“I just- you don't know your way around here,” he came up with a lame excuse. “I could drive you; I got all my work in last night.”
“Look,” McKenna straightened and placed her hand on his shoulder. “If you can't trust me, at least trust Terilynn. She lives here, you've known her longer than you've known me, and you trust her to watch Lucas.”
“It's not that I don't trust you, McKenna, but it's a crazy world out there. You plan to be gone all day?”
“Yes, and Georgia is nothing like New York. If Grammy lets me out in the city with just Ashleigh, then you have no reason to worry. We're not exactly kids.” She wanted to add that they could never get back to the days when she was a kid and in need of protective restraint, but she was sure he knew that by now.
Patrick's mouth opened to utter more complaints, but a touch from Avalon silenced him.
“I'm starting to have concerns about the whole you moving to be near me thing,” McKenna joshed.
“McKenna Arielle Skye! We gotta go,” Teri shouted from outside. “The mall waits for no man! (Or girl for that matter) They stop giving out those really big cookies at 8:15. On the dot!”
McKenna gave Patrick one of her famous looks. “How exactly does she know my middle name?”
“Um...” Patrick feigned ignorance.
“Yeah yeah,” she laughed. “Okay, may I go?”
“You may go.”
“Thank you,” McKenna sarcastically said. She kissed Patrick quickly on his cheek, kissed Avalon's baby bump, and gave Avalon two face kisses: one for her and one for Lucas when he awoke.

CHAPTER TWENTY
“A dad is someone who wants to catch you before you fall but instead picks you up, brushes you off, and lets you try again.”

 

The girls had conquered the lower level of the mall and were moving upstairs on the escalator when Teri's phone rang for the fifth time.
“These people cannot wait?” Teri asked with Southern exasperation. “They need to go back to the days before Alexander Graham Bell and see how often they would ride a horse to my yard to tell me something foolish like 'Emma got color contacts.'”
McKenna laughed. “You must be popular. The only people who call me are old. My grandma, my neighbor, my ex's older brother.”
“Your ex's older brother!” Teri exclaimed. “So, you don't have any friends in New York?”
“Not very many. I like to stick with just a few people. I'm not big on crowds. My best friend, Ashleigh, and I haven't spoken since she started dating my ex before he was my ex.”
“Ooh.”
“Yeah, so I lost two friends at one time. One of my other friends, Tiara, is really cool, but we haven't talked in a while. I've been busy and distracted and she hasn't texted or anything.” McKenna thought for a second. “I should text her.”
“You should. Is she friends with that other girl, Ashleigh?”
“No, I don't think so,” McKenna frowned. “It was always just Ashleigh and I. All the other kids were mere acquaintances. Now Ashleigh hangs with the popular girls. They're really nasty, but I don't blame them. I would probably be nasty, too, if I thought there was such a thing as an 'ordacity.'”
“They said that!” Teri gasped. “Get out! That is too funny! All the popular girls at my school are super uppity. They wear their own uniform: skirts with knee socks and blouses with ties. They're really annoying, but manageable because they've never been mean to anyone. They just ignore people. And nobody cares.”
“I could deal with that,” McKenna said.
“Your ex talks to you, or no?” Teri asked, looking at her phone. They had set all their purchases on a bench for a moment.
“He does. We might be friends now. He's really sorry about what he did and I'm really sorry for him cuz Ashleigh does not know how to treat him right. She acts like she's some sort of goddess and he has to bow to her.”
“McKenna...” Teri stuck her phone into her back pocket. “We have to go.”
“Why? What happened?” McKenna was confused by the obvious concern etched on Terilynn's face. “Who was that?”
“Your dad. He said you have to come home immediately.”

 

“Is the baby okay?” McKenna burst in through the unlocked back door. “What's going on, guys?”
Patrick and Avalon stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“Mr. Skye?” Teri said calmly. “Is everything okay?”
“I just received a call,” Patrick told them. “Mami suffered a severe heart attack. She's at St. John's. They need us to come.”
Cold washed over McKenna. “When are we leaving?”
“Now,” Patrick said. “I switched your flight. The plane leaves in two hours.”
“Are you coming, Avalon?” McKenna walked over to her and took her hand. She was already sure of the answer; it would be positively ludicrous for such a pregnant woman to travel anywhere unless absolutely necessary.
“If only I could, McKenna,” she squeezed McKenna's hand. “I packed all of your things for you. Leave the stuff you bought here and I'll ship it down later. Might be after the baby comes.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Where's Lucas?”
“I already put him down for a nap, but you can wake him up to say goodbye.”
McKenna shook her head. “No, I don't want him to cry. Just tell him goodbye for me.” She knew that if she had to tell that precious little boy goodbye so suddenly, her own floodgates would open.
“Goodbye, McKenna,” Teri hugged her new friend tightly. “I'm so glad I got to meet you. I hope you come back and visit soon. And don't worry, I'll take care of Lucas and Avalon while your dad is away.”
“Thanks, Teri,” McKenna blinked hard and turned to hug Avalon. “Thank you for having me, Avalon.”
“Oh, please,” Avalon wiped at her own watering eyes. “Don't forget you're a part of my family. You give my best regards to your grandmother and tell her I'll be waiting for the day she can meet her youngest grandchild.”
“And give my regards to Chantal,” McKenna grinned, bending down to Avalon's stomach. “Bye bye, baby. Oh, I feel it kicking against my hand!”
“I think it recognized your voice,” Avalon whispered happily.
“My child is certainly not an it,” Patrick said.
“Well, that's what it gets called when one specific big sister is not allowed to reveal its gender!” McKenna teased Avalon in a singsong voice. Everyone laughed.

The taxi ride to the airport was a short, quiet, and bumpy one. While Patrick paid the driver, McKenna retrieved their luggage from the trunk. She hoped her grandmother was okay! Sudden sicknesses, sudden goodbyes, and sudden flights were no fun. She preferred to be prepared for everything than to have spontaneity in her life.
“McKenna,” Patrick called her name brusquely. “You need to give me your phone number, now.”
At first she stared at him, then glared, turned on her heel, and strode away. Why was he demanding her phone number? And why did he find it necessary to be so harsh? She entered the airport terminal and waited for him beside an ATM machine.
“Heya, sexy,” a dirty-looking, ugly man leered at her. Used to it, McKenna turned and ignored him. She didn't know that Patrick had already reached her.
“What's your problem?” He shouted angrily, “That's my daughter, man.” The man laughed, which riled Patrick even more. He got closer to him. “You think that's funny? You think this is funny?”
“Patrick, stop,” McKenna hissed between her teeth. “Don't start a fight in an airport of all places. Next thing you know, we can't board the plane.”
“Come on,” he growled, leading her away.
“Take a chill pill, man,” McKenna said once they were settled in their seats. “I can feel your tension from all the way over here.”
“I'm sorry, Princess,” Patrick sighed. “I'm stressing. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that earlier.”
“Nope, you shouldn't have.”
“But I do need your number. I couldn't reach you today. I couldn't reach you yesterday. And I won't be able to reach you tomorrow.”
“You're not supposed to reach me,” McKenna said. “It's 646-990-8720.”
They settled into an amiable silence, leaving McKenna alone with her thoughts. She dug in her backpack, relieved to find the sketch pad she always carried. Using a No. 2 pencil and concentrating hard, McKenna tried to sketch Grammy's face. Try as she might, a perfect picture wouldn't come. The chin was too pointy, the lips too wide. She couldn't see a clear memory of Grammy in her mind; everything was hazy.
“You didn't know your grandmother was sick, did you?” Patrick asked.
“She isn't sick.” McKenna declared, then repeated quietly. “She isn't sick. She just had a random heart attack, right?”
“No,” Patrick cleared his throat. “The people I talked to said that she's been sick for quite some time. Her trip to Puerto Rico was actually to a treatment center.”
“She didn't even look sick. Why wouldn't she tell me?”
“I'm sure she didn't want to worry you.”
“That's ridiculous!” McKenna snapped. “She should have told me. I could've helped her more and now she's in the hospital. What exactly is wrong with her anyway?”
“The doctors say her heart is weak.”
McKenna pressed the tip of her pencil against the paper. “Her heart is just fine.” She sighed, then asked the question that was in her mind. “Patrick, do you think she's going to die?”
He was quiet for so long McKenna wasn't sure he had heard the question. She looked at him, ready to ask it again, but he answered, “Well, I think we need to be prepared for that possibility.”
Frustrated, McKenna ripped out her drawing and crumpled it. “Why do people always say stupid things like that? Grammy isn't going to die!”
Patrick didn't remind her that she had been the one to ask him that question. “Maybe you should try to draw something that's fresh in your mind,” he gently suggested. “You haven't seen her for a while.”
McKenna shrugged, her face fixed with a scowl. “My stomach hurts. I'm cold.”
“Can't fix the stomach,” Patrick said, “but, fortunately for you, Avalon has an organized mind in times of chaos. I'm never cold on planes, but she insisted that I pack a blanket for you.”
McKenna gratefully accepted the warm, blue blanket. Her stomach still griped, but she ignored it and rested her head on Patrick's shoulder. She took his advice and began to draw a face that was fresh in her mind. The face of her unborn sibling.

By the time they arrived in New York, McKenna had completed three sketches. One of the baby, one of Avalon, and one of Lucas. She had been too shy to draw Patrick with him watching.
“You're really good at that,” Patrick told her after he gave directions to the cab driver.
“I haven't created in so long,” she half-smiled. “My life has been extremely topsy-turvy. I hate it. I just want to sit down and get back to normal.”
“You know you can define normal. Make a new normal.”
“No thanks.” McKenna sighed. She adjusted her hair tie. “I don't need a new normal. I just want what I'm used to. Home and stability. Deviating from the plan is not cool.”
“Oh, hey, that reminds me,” Patrick fumbled in his pocket. “I found a copy of that poem your mom liked so much.”
Taking the rimpled paper from him, McKenna bit her bottom lip. She touched her hand to the locket at her neck. With a quick intake of breath, she unfolded the poem and read its lines. Her eyes watered throughout it, but she suspected it was solely because the poem was her mother's favorite.
“So she believed in that stuff, like there's a great Deity who controls everything and it all happens for a reason.”
“Yes. We believe in God. You know Mami does.”
“Yeah, I know. I just didn't know my mother did. That bothers me; why would anybody want to believe that? Isn't it easier to believe that bad things happen to everyone randomly instead of believing that there's Someone actually making bad stuff happen on purpose to hurt you?”
“Not on purpose to hurt you, Princess.”
“By accident to hurt me?” McKenna gave him a 'get real' look. I don't think I need to believe that Someone so powerful hates me so much. Sorry.”
“Don't apologize.” Patrick put an arm around her. “And don't worry. It will all work out.”
McKenna shifted so his arm was no longer encircling her shoulders. “The hospital is right up there.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“A daughter is a treasure- and a cause of sleepless nights.”

“No, you didn't stress me out, Mamasita,” Lilliana did her best to assure her young granddaughter. “The heart attack was brought on by my refusal of the medication. I was very stubborn.”
“So you'll get better if you take your meds?” McKenna asked.
“No, Mamasita,” Lilliana answered softly. “I'm ready to go now. I was holding on for you. Didn't want to go off and leave you orphan. Now you have muchos good people to care for you. I won't have to worry. That's good, no? Sin preocupaciones?”
“Si, Abuela.” McKenna surprised herself by having perfectly dry eyes.
Patrick stood against the door, still shocked. He had never seen his Mami like this. She was always so beautiful and strong. She had deteriorated in what seemed like seconds, but he imagined the process had begun in Puerto Rico. The stark white of the hospital sheets brought out the emaciation of her yellow-colored face. It made Patrick feel sick to see his mother look so tiny, weighed down by medical instruments and tools.
“I cannot sit and watch you die, Grammy,” McKenna was now saying. “So I'm gonna skip. You have Patrick, okay?”
“McKenna, be very strong,” Lilliana said. “God will help you be stronger than you know you can be.” McKenna bit back the bitter words slicing her throat. “You will be okay.”
“But what if I need you?” McKenna's question was a half cry, half whisper. “I don't want to say goodbye.”
“Let's pretend I'm going away again,” Lilliana said brightly. “I am leaving to.. El Salvador!”
“Okay,” McKenna sniffed a little. “You're going to El Salvador and I'm going to the grocery store, but by the time I return, you will have already gone. So Patrick's waiting with you at the airport.”
“Si,” McKenna's grandmother smiled faintly. No tears on her sunken cheeks. “Make sure you practice your Espanol, Mamasita.”
“I will.”
“And mind your manners,” she chided playfully.
“Yes, Grammy, I know!” McKenna faked exasperation.
“Alright, go on.” Lilliana sank back into the bed. “T'amo, Mamasita. Adios.”
McKenna kissed her grandmother's forehead several times. It had a strange, papery feel, but she didn't care. Goodbye was forever. “I love you, I love you, a million times, Grammy. In English and in Spanish. T'amo, Abuelita. Adios.” She was almost out the door before she added, “Safe flight.”

McKenna had barely reached the hospital lawn before she was vomiting chocolate-chip cookies. She retched and retched and retched and finally her stomachache was gone.
“I would have held your hair, but it's tied,” a voice said from behind her. It was Jace. “Want some Tic-Tacs?”
She thanked him and they went to sit on a sidewalk bench.
“School has missed you,” Jace commented.
“Well, I haven't missed school.”
“Okay, school hasn't missed you much. Especially not Mr. Jareds. But I have. And Tiara asks about you constantly.”
“I meant to text her,” McKenna smacked her forehead. “I just need to settle down. Everything's a mess.”
“She would've texted, but she didn't want to be a nag.” Jace bent down and retied his Jordans. They were 10s.
“I am now gladly welcoming any nags or distractions. I'm tired of thinking about stuff. And my phone has been inactive for way too long. I probably won't even have a real bill this month.”
“You know Ash and I broke up?”
“Wow, that was random,” McKenna pulled down her hair and began to chew at a few dark strands. “What happened? You guys had some colossal fight, she realized she liked somebody else, she stole someone else's boyfriend, she dumped you to lead a single life?”
“No, no, no, and no. I dumped her because she was becoming totally and completely high-maintenance... and I like you way better.”
“Oh. That's nice.”
“What?” Jace peered at her through her loose mane. “We can't work us out again? We can try, Kenny. Or is there some other guy?”
“There's no other guy, Jace.” McKenna rolled her eyes. “How about we just be friends? I don't want a boyfriend right now. I'm happy being single. You know, we've been 'with' people since we were little kids and nobody knows what being single is anymore. You should try it sometime.”
“Sure, we can be friends.” Jace said meekly. He was quick to amend his thought pattern after McKenna's little lecture. “I just like you is all.”
“I know.” McKenna felt older and more mature than Jace at that moment. He seemed kind of shallow to her too, caught up in the whole girlfriend thing. Tiara's lesson had really sunk in. When would people realize that popularity and coupledom was nothing to attain to?
“You sad?”
McKenna nodded. Uh-huh.
“You need a hug?”
McKenna shook her head quickly. Nuh-uh.

“McKenna, McKenna, McKenna,” Brooke Dennis walked up to their bench, Elliot in tow. “You been skipping classes.”
Shaking her head, McKenna gave a sigh. Poor Brooke. She was another one stuck in the shallow realm.
“I haven't forgotten you,” Brooke snarled. “Nobody tries to steal my boyfriend and gets away with it. I could respect it if you was at least pretty, but I can't respect trash.”
“She tried to steal me?” Elliot asked idiotically. “Who is she?”
“She's McKenna,” Brooke told him. “Remember we put up pictures of her all over the school? And you were suspended because her stupid ex was fighting with you?” Brooke turned and glared at Jace, who was taking the silence cue from McKenna.
“Oh, yeah,” Elliot smirked, then stopped thinking and went back to looking good and taking selfies with his iphone 5c.
“Why do you look so sad, McKenna?” Brooke advanced menacingly. “Are we hurting your little feelings?” She pursed her too pink lips and fluffed her obvious weave with both hands. Even Barbie's synthetic hair looked better than hers!
“No,” McKenna surprised her with an answer. “You are doing nothing to me. I look sad because while you are going on and on about superficiality, my grandmother is dying in that hospital.”
Brooke's face paled. “Ms. Lilliana is dying?” At McKenna's nod, she grabbed Elliot's arm and walked briskly away. “Whatever, McKenna. Nobody cares.”
McKenna smiled a little at her departure. Poor, poor Brooke. She was like a lemon, grapefruit, and rotten McIntosh all together. Disgusting.
“Sor-sorry, Kenny,” Jace stuttered. “I should have said something.”
“It's okay, Jace,” she said. “I don't need you- or anybody- to stand up for me. I'm not afraid of girls like Brooke. They're just like cheese doodles. Full of air.” She smiled at him. “So Jordan sent you over here?”
“How'd you know?”
McKenna just shrugged and smiled. She stood up when she saw Patrick coming toward them. His hands were stuffed deep in his pockets and his broad shoulders were hunched. “He's bothering you, McKenna?” Patrick asked, his voice husky, nodding towards Jace.
McKenna shook her head slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the too-eager-to-please Jace stand quickly. He looked unsure, but walked a couple feet away from them. McKenna was grateful. “Is she gone?” She asked Patrick quietly.
“Yeah.” He tried to smile a little. “It was a peaceful takeoff.”
“It's okay, Dad,” McKenna slipped her arms around his waist. “You don't need to smile or be strong for me. You can cry.”
It was as if he had been waiting for her permission. He began to sob, soft at first, but then louder. It was different than a baby's cry; it was deeper than any cry she had ever heard. They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but McKenna didn't care. Her poor father had lost his wife and his mother before the age of 40. He deserved to grieve in any place he wanted.
His chest heaving against her face moved McKenna to tears, but she couldn't cry. Not now.
“Princess, I am so glad I have you,” Patrick shuddered. “God, please don't take her. She's all I have left.”
McKenna knew what he meant. She was the only one left from his original family. He had no mother, no father, no brothers or sisters. Only McKenna, a reminder of his past life and love. It confused her to think how he could believe in a God who took away people's mothers. If she were to believe in God, she would hate Him. And here Patrick was, pleading for her life. It was crazy.
Jace was gone by the time Patrick was ready to go. He had disappeared without McKenna being aware of it. She sent him a text of thanks and a 'hey, I'm home' to Tiara.
“I love you, McKenna,” Patrick told her in a serious voice as they walked up her street. “I thank God every day that even after all I've done, I'm still allowed to have my daughter. I do not deserve you.”
McKenna didn't know what to say to that. Luckily, Kayden spotted her the same time she spotted him and she was saved!
“Akenna! Akenna! Mommy, Akenna's here!” He hugged her with more force than McKenna could imagine he had. She picked him up and swung him around and around. “I missed you, Akenna. Why did you move away?”
“I didn't move away, Kayden,” she laughed. “I was visiting my dad in Georgia, but I'm home now.”
“Did you miss me a lot?”
“Yes, I missed you a lot,” she kissed his tousled hair and gave a smile to his mother, who was behind him. “Hi, Ms. Jasmine. I'm back.”
“McKenna,” Ms. Jasmine hugged her. “I am so sorry about your grandmother. I visited her earlier. Is she doing any better?”
She had forgotten. McKenna set Kayden on the grass. “Yeah, she's not in the hospital anymore. She left a little while ago.” That being said, McKenna walked as quickly as possible to her door. She fumbled a little with the key, but soon was inside.
Patrick came in a few minutes later and found her in the kitchen, standing over a pot on the stove. “What's that?” he asked, “You look like you done seen a ghost.”
“It's paella,” she whispered. “I thought I would never taste Grammy's paella again. And it's still warm. It's like she knew what was going to happen, so she had it here waiting for me.”
“McKenna-”
“Does Ms. Jasmine know?” McKenna cut him off.
“Yes,” he reached out and touched her arm. “Come here.” She allowed him to lead her from the paella to the living room, which was homier than it had been a month ago when Patrick first arrived. The aroma of the paella followed them until Patrick sprayed some Febreze in the room.
“It's so creepy,” McKenna rubbed her arms. “It's like she's here.”
“I can throw out the entire pot if you want me to,” Patrick offered. “Or I'll take it next door to Ms. Jasmine and Kayden.”
“No, I want to eat it,” McKenna said. “She made it for me.”
“Okay,” he put the air freshener down and sat beside her. “If you're sure.”
“I am.” She sighed and raised her eyes to heaven. “Patrick, how can you believe in God and know that He took my mom and Grammy? How could my mom believe in God, knowing that He gave her the cancer?”
“What I'm trying to figure out is how you could possibly not believe in God and have lived in this house all your life.”
“Grammy did teach me about God, if that's what you're wondering. From when I was little.”
“And now you don't believe in Him?”
McKenna's shoulders drooped. “No. I mean, I guess I know God is there, because that's all I was taught. But I don't want to believe in Him. When I started to hate you, I forced myself to stop believing in God. If I'm really really honest, I don't think it's possible for me to not believe in something I've been told all my life, but I don't let myself think about Him. I don't want to believe He would do this to me. If there's a God, then everything is His fault and I hate Him.”
Patrick laughed at McKenna's scowl and gently pulled her arms from their crossed position. “Want to know what I think?” He didn't wait for a yes. “I think you have the wrong idea. Try not to think that God is doing something to you, but think that God is doing something for you.”
“Like how?” McKenna wrinkled her nose.
“Like your mom's poem.”
McKenna automatically touched her sacred locket. “What about it?”
“She found that poem after she got sick and it helped her to cope. You can say that everything is God's fault because God is in control and He allowed it to happen, and some people blame and hate God, but instead of thinking of what He did as bad, think of it as good.”
“How can it be good?”
“Being God, Princess, He can see way farther than the human eye can. He can see what will make us stronger, better people. He can see what we need to make our lives complete.”
“Well, my grandmother made me a stronger, better person.” McKenna said bitterly. “She made my life complete. How could her being gone be good?”
“I don't know,” Patrick answered honestly. “I have no idea why God would want that for us, but I trust Him. I may be sad that my mother is gone, but I trust His judgment.”
“Grammy never told me anything like that,” McKenna said. “When I refused to come to church, she didn't tell me about God doing things for good. She just said that in time I would understand.”
“Maybe now it's time,” Patrick said. “I could waste my energy hating God and be filled with bitterness. Instead, I choose to accept the things He gives and live my life in peace. Believe me, McKenna. Everything God does is because He loves you.”
“How do I know your information is correct?” McKenna demanded. “And I never said I hated God. I said I didn't want to hate God and that's why I don't want to believe in Him. I just want to pretend He isn't there.”
“You can't.” Patrick chuckled. “You have to think about Him sometime. And when you do, please don't let it be with hatred, McKenna. I know what I'm saying is true because I believe the Bible. Your grandmother dying, I don't know about that, but tell me what good things you wouldn't have experienced had your mother not died.”
McKenna frowned. “Are you trying to say her death was a good thing?”
“God used it for good, yes. Of course I'm not happy she died, but come on, think with me. If your mom was alive, what would you be missing?”
“Nothing!” McKenna said. “Nothing at all. I would be a very normal kid living in a house with both of my parents.”
“Think harder. Think about this past week.”
Immediately McKenna knew what he was referring to. “Avalon. And my brother, Lucas. The baby and Terilynn.”
“Yes, McKenna. And you probably wouldn't have such a good relationship with Ms. Jasmine and Kayden because you could only see them during visits to Mami. We lived about a half hour from her so you would attend another school... no Tiara, no Jace. And without Jace...”
“No Jordan,” McKenna finished. That struck her hard. She couldn't imagine her life without these people. Especially not Jordan. And she loved her new little brother so much!
“Exactly. Think about all the good things God did for you. You were always taken care of.”
“So...” McKenna bit her bottom lip. “I should be glad that my mom died?”
“You shouldn't be glad she died; I'm not glad she died. But you should accept it as God's plan and watch for the good things that can come from what seems like bad.”
McKenna sighed. “That's a little much. I didn't know you talked so excessively about God.”
“Only when asked, my dear,” he laughed.
“Well, then I won't be making that mistake again,” she said, only half-playing. “Patrick? I thought people who go to church don't curse.”
“They shouldn't,” he answered. “You're talking about that day in your room when I found out about Jace, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I shouldn't have said that word, I know. I'm sorry,” he ran his hand through the length of his hair. “Avalon tells me all the time. It's just embedded within me... but don't worry, I'm working on it. I'm trying.”
“It's okay,” McKenna shrugged. “You can say whatever you want to say and I will still love you.” She quickly changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the fact that she had expressed love to him for the first time. “So what good things happened to you because of my mom dying?”
He smiled. “Avalon and Lucas, definitely. Also, my book. I don't think I would have written it under different circumstances. I could do without it, but I've seen a lot of comments from guys who it has helped. One man actually feels like he has hope with his daughter now. I think that's something great, for someone else to feel how I feel right now.”

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“ A good father is one of the most unsung, unpraised, unnoticed, and yet one of the most valuable assets in our society.”

 

Heart thudding in her chest, McKenna bolted upright in bed. The room wasn't completely dark, but shadows still covered the walls. She looked down at the goosebumps on her arms. It was her first nightmare in three years. After every nightmare she had suffered from the age of eight, her grandmother had been there to awaken her and calm her enough to sleep again.
McKenna sat in the half-light for a few minutes, then got up and padded to Patrick's room. He was asleep. “Wake up, Patrick,” she whispered. He continued to snore, so she shook him a little. “Patrick!”
“Huh- What?” He asked mid-snort. He sat up and reached for the bedside lamp. “What's happening? What's going on?”
She shrugged. “Nothing really, just walking around.”
“Just walking around?” Patrick looked at the bright green, angular clock. “At four in the morning? McKenna, seriously. What's up?”
“Nothing,” she muttered. “Is it okay if I take a walk outside?”
“Can't you wait until it's light?” He rubbed his eyes and peered at her face. “You've been crying.”
“How can you tell?”
“You have streaks,” he said, “And your eyes are still leaking. Come up here and tell me what's wrong or I'll be forced to come down there and tickle you.” She just looked at him, so he said, “I'm serious. You didn't bust into my sleep for nothing.”
“Okay,” McKenna drew out the long a sound. She jumped up onto the bed, her purple Microsoft sleep shirt billowing behind her. It was a little chilly because of the ceiling fan, so she sat cross-legged with her arms inside her shirt and shirt pulled over her knees. Sitting here with her father was weird, but she stayed because she wanted one day to not feel weird with him, ever.
“You can come if you want,” Patrick moved over and held the comforter open as an invitation. Seeing her hesitation, he continued, “Lucas sometimes comes in the middle of the night. He doesn't usually wake me anymore, but he just climbs up beside me. Like it's his bed.”
“Yeah,” McKenna swiped a hand across her eyes. She was still leaking.
“Yeah.” He reached forward and rested his hand on her leg. “And when you were a baby, you never could fall asleep without your sock monkey. You would cry and when you learned talk, you would say, 'Daddy, the monkey go where?' Do you remember that?”
“No,” McKenna sniffled. “I don't remember.”
“You were so small,” Patrick smiled at the memory. “Come on, Princess. It's warmer over here with me.” Then, in a softer voice, he voiced what he hoped wasn't going through her head. “You don't have to be afraid. I promise I won't hurt you.”
“I know you won't,” she crawled in beside her dad and allowed him to put his arm around her. “I wasn't scared.”
“Are you gonna tell me why you're crying or do you want to just talk?”
“Just talk,” McKenna hurriedly said. “I had a nightmare. That's why I woke up and came in here. I miss Grammy.” She could feel the moisture from her eyes seeping into Patrick's shirt. He didn't mind- she knew because he pulled her closer and let her head remain on his chest.
“So we're just talking about why you're crying,” he smirked. “Okay, that works.”
“You're not supposed to make fun,” she pouted.
“I'm not making fun,” Patrick corrected her. “I'm teasing you. And I know you miss her cuz I miss her too.”
“It's hard to know that I won't see her in three weeks. It's really hard to know she won't be there for the rest of my entire life. My graduation, my wedding-”
“Wedding? What wedding?” McKenna could feel Patrick's ribs vibrating with laughter against her right cheekbone. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”
“No, I'm just saying,” she said, “If I was to be having a wedding, she wouldn't be there. It's like she just disappeared. I know I'm supposed to pretend she went on a trip, but she didn't. I can't expect her to come home, cuz she won't. She's not. Ever. I have to keep telling myself she's dead.”
“You think if you saw her leave it would have been easier?”
McKenna pondered that for a few seconds. “Maybe. I didn't want to see her go, but then maybe this would feel normal instead of like some crazy... nightmare.”
“You have nightmares a lot?” Patrick asked, looking down at his fifteen year-old.
“Not anymore,” she shrugged. “I used to every night. When I was little, like eight. They were always about you and I would wake up sweating and Grammy would be there, wiping my forehead with a cool washcloth.”
“Every night?” Patrick said incredulously. “Wow, that's a lot.”
“Yup. Every night for four entire years. I was sick a lot, too, and I had to get tutored because of my terrible grades. They said I was “emotionally imbalanced” and was lacking attention. Whatever.” She laughed a little.
“That was probably all my fault,” Patrick winced. “Sorry.”
“Yeah,” McKenna shook her head, “But it doesn't really matter anymore.”
“So what does?”
“Here and now,” McKenna answered without hesitation. She wiped her remaining tears away. “Patrick, did my mom love me a lot?”
He laughed loudly. Again, McKenna could feel it against her cheekbones. “Of course she did, sweetheart. That's one unnecessary question. She loved you more than a lot, almost more than I did. Definitely more than she loved me!”
That made McKenna smile. “Well, of course I was more lovable than you! I was cute and I had curly hair and I was a girl and I had big eyes and I laughed a lot and I liked to wiggle my fingers and toes and I made her smile all the time.”
“But that's not fair. I was here first!” Patrick complained. “Who told you you liked to wiggle your fingers and toes?”
“Grammy. She sometimes told me things. Not very often. I 'spect it made her sad. But she said when my mom was sick and she would try not to cry, I would wiggle my fingers and toes and laugh a big, big laugh and blink my eyes and she would smile.”
“Yeah,” Patrick nodded. “You would.”
“Did you love me a lot?” McKenna asked, looking up into his eyes for truth or lies.
“I did.” Patrick got really serious. His eyes watered and he kissed her head. “I loved to watch you sleep. You would lie there so still in your pink sleeper and I would watch your body rise and fall with each breath you took. Sometimes you were so still I had to check to make sure you were alive. You probably don't know, but after you fell asleep every night this week, I came to your room and watched you sleep.”
“Um, that's a little creepy,” McKenna laughed.
“I know, but I was just remembering. You're all grown up now, really grown up, and I can never get back those years. I'm sorry I didn't love you more, McKenna.”
“It's okay,” she said. “Honest. You don't have to keep thinking about it and regretting. You're the one who said God does everything for good. So stop thinking about all the bad things and think about the good: that I'm here for now until I run off and marry some weird guy in a monkey suit.”
“And that is such a good thought,” he said sarcastically.
“You see? It's easy!”
“Aren't you going to church today?” McKenna checked out the clock. They had spent the past five hours bonding, talking about nonsense mixed through with vital moments.
“No, I don't want to leave you here alone,” Patrick answered.
“Why? I'm not gonna disappear or anything. I'll be here when you get back. I promise.”
“I'm not worried about you disappearing...” Patrick said, “I'm worried something might happen and you need me.”
“Uh, give me a break. What do you think I did every Sunday for the past, like, four years? Stayed here while Grammy went to church. Nothing ever happened. Well,” she combed her fingers through the tangled strands of her hair, “there was the time my hair caught fire, but only because I disobeyed Grammy and turned on the stove. So that doesn't really count.”
Patrick shook his head. “I'm not leaving you. I want keep you by my side today, alright?”
So that's what it was. He was worried that he would need her, not the other way around. She nodded and sighed. “I'll come with you if you want,” she offered with a shrug.
“To church?” Patrick was more than surprised. McKenna nodded. “Yeah? Okay, you better go shower and dress. No jeans, you hear?”
“It's wasn't that long ago,” McKenna mumbled. She ran from Patrick's room to her own. After a really quick shower, she pulled an orange dress over her head. It didn't quite reach her knee, so she put a pair of white leggings underneath. Scrutinizing herself in the full-length mirror, she shook her head. Not today. McKenna pulled the outfit off and dropped it onto the floor. No time to put things away.
“You almost ready?” Patrick asked, tapping twice on her bedroom door.
“Yeah,” McKenna shimmied into her royal blue maxi skirt, almost tripping over the bottom of it. “You can come in.” She barely glanced away from her closet towards him. What matched with the blue? She rummaged through her clothes and extracted a white halter top.
“Not to church, Ken,” Patrick shook his head.
McKenna huffed out a puff of air through her mouth and nostrils. “I guess I don't really remember.”
He smiled and came over to the closet. “It's alright. Let me help.” He looked through her clothes, making impossible suggestions. McKenna would never wear a baby doll top with a maxi skirt! The flowing bottom of the shirt would not go with the flowing bottom of the skirt.
“Can't I just wear the halter?” McKenna hit her head against the wall. “This is not working out.”
“No, you can't wear the halter,” Patrick said. “Don't you have any other white shirts? The white and blue is really nice.”
McKenna raised her eyebrows. She yanked all her clothes out of her closet and dresser and tossed them onto her bed. She held up a white cardigan. No, too hot. A white, cropped jean jacket. No, it needed dry cleaning because of a stain from Kayden's juice box. She had a lot of white tops, but they were mostly inappropriate for church. Too much flesh showing and stuff like that.
“I'm surprised Mami allowed you to wear some of these clothes,” Patrick commented.
McKenna shrugged. “She didn't really care about clothes like that. My back could show, my-” she waved her hand around her chest “-could show. Just not my behind. She really didn't like that, but I mostly wear jeans all day. With a belt.”
“Here,” Patrick handed her a v-neck shirt. It was cap-sleeved and long enough to cover the top of McKenna's maxi skirt. Perfect.
She accepted the shirt with thanks. “Close your eyes, turn around.” McKenna quickly switched from her pink tank to a light blue one. She struggled into the white t-shirt. “Ugh, this is tight. No wonder I forgot I had it. This shirt is soon to retire.”
“Can I open my eyes?” Patrick asked.
“Sure,” McKenna said. “Are you uncomfortable with my clothes or something? Why you're surprised how Grammy let me dress?”
“I'm not gonna tell you what and what not to wear,” Patrick evaded the question. He began to fold McKenna's shirts and put them away.
“Thank you,” McKenna said with double meaning. “You know we're late?”
“About seventeen minutes,” Patrick looked at his phone. “Still want to go?”
“Yeah, let me just do my hair.”
Suddenly, Patrick got an urge. He wanted to run his hands through her hair again. Braid it in two, short pigtails. Of course that wasn't feasible with McKenna's hair trailing down her back, but it was an idea. “Can I do it?”
“My hair?” McKenna looked at him oddly. “You want to do my hair?”
“Yeah,” Patrick shrugged, snagging the brush out of her hand. “Why, you don't think I can?”
“I'm sure you can do something, I'm just not sure I'm gonna like it,” she gave him her 'honestly' face and sat down on the bed. “But go ahead. Have fun.”
“I can do hair, you know. When you were little, I braided it in two every day.”
“Ha!” McKenna snorted.
“O ye of little faith,” Patrick knocked her on the head with the brush, “But you can take it out after if you'd like. If you don't like it.”
After a few minutes, McKenna was permitted to look in the mirror. Patrick had French braided the front of her hair, leaving the back completely out. He had brushed it with a little gel to make her natural curls shine.
“It's pretty,” McKenna smiled. “I don't really wear my hair out in the summer, but I'll just bring a hair tie in case.”
“Come on, let's hurry,” Patrick led the way out of McKenna's bedroom. “We don't want to miss Praise&Worship!”
“Definitely not,” McKenna mumbled, “That's about the only part of church I actually like.” They were already driving when McKenna felt a hunger pang. “Ugh, Dad, we didn't eat any breakfast. My tummy's complaining.”
“Tell your tummy to hush until after service, okay?”
“Okay,” McKenna stuck out her bottom lip. “Hey, you didn't answer my question before. About my clothes.”
“About your clothes,” Patrick mused. “Yeah, I didn't answer.”
“How come?”
Patrick sighed. “I didn't want to offend you, McKenna.”
“You wouldn't offend me,” McKenna said. “And even if I got offended, it would be okay. I promise I won't get mad.”
Patrick pulled into the parking lot of Freedom in Christ Church. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt McKenna's feelings or have her feel awkward around him. He had to be careful. “It's not that I feel uncomfortable with your clothes. I'm glad you aren't insecure about your body. I just feel... scared... that you might attract the wrong type of guys. Like that kid, Elliot.”
“You think I dressed like a ho that night? That's why Elliot... It's not! Because I was dressed better than any of those girls.” She got out of the car and slammed the door. “And I'm not offended.” Only hurt. He knew nothing anyway; since Elliot happened, she had been insecure about her body.
McKenna turned on her heel and stalked to the front of the church without Patrick. He quickly locked the car, jogging after her. She waited in the empty hallway for him. “If there's something I'm wearing that you don't like, you can tell me. I'll change.” Instead of pausing for a response, she entered the brightly lit sanctuary and found a pew to the right- directly behind Ms. Jasmine and Kayden.
“Akenna!” Kayden turned around and waved excitedly. “You never come to church ever or anytime!”
“Yeah, but I'm here today,” McKenna whispered in his ear. “You happy?”
“Yes, I'm happy like Casper the Friendly Ghost when he helped the little baby in a pamper,” Kayden whispered loudly back. “But I'm not aposed to talk in church so I cannot talk to you until tomorrow or the next day.” With that, Kayden obediently turned his back.
Grinning, McKenna settled against the green pew. Kayden was so cute; she had missed him this past week.
Everyone in the church was on their feet, clapping and singing. It was annoying because she couldn't hear the words of the song. Seated in the back, all she heard was loud piano and tambourines.
Patrick slipped in beside her. He smiled at Kayden, then turned to McKenna. “You look beautiful in whatever you wear, alright? I don't think you dress like a prostitute; I just want to keep you safe.” A nod from McKenna made his heart feel a little lighter.
There were quite a few familiar faces in the room. As usual, the Wright sisters were leading the Praise&Worship team. Some of the guys on the instruments were siblings of her classmates. She saw Pastor Don in his cushioned chair on the platform with his wife adjacent. It was just as McKenna had left it.
“We're the only ones sitting,” McKenna pointed out. “Even the little kids are up.” She noticed Ms. Celpe's three sons, all except the youngest now sporting facial hair. When they were little, they had played train tag together on the front lawn after service.
“Let's stand then,” Patrick said, pulling McKenna up with him. Not wanting her to be the only one sitting, he had stayed seated, but since she had made that observation, he felt free to stand.
“Amen, amen, amen!” Cecilia Wright sang into her microphone. She was sweating- or glowing. Her large bun was clipped on and her skirt was so tight McKenna didn't understand how in the world she was possibly able to dance around the platform. And wasn't church supposed to be modest at the very least? “Yes, Lord, break those chains!”
The last chords of Tasha Cobb's “Break Every Chain” died down and the lyrics on the big screens around the church changed to “Awesome” by Pastor Charles Jenkins. Cindy Wright stepped forward and led the congregation in the first line.
McKenna smiled. It was a beautiful song with a nice, swaying beat. After it was over, everyone sat down to listen to Pastor Don's sermon. It wasn't that long, but McKenna felt herself dozing off. Patrick's pokes didn't help, neither did the pointy glares from Mrs. Fennewaite, one of the elderly church ladies.
Kayden was already knocked out and McKenna was all set to join him when she decided to doodle on a church pamphlet found in the hymn rack. That kept her awake for the remainder of the service.
“You can go wait in the car,” Patrick told her after the service's 12pm end. “I have to speak with Pastor Don.”
“About Grammy?” McKenna sighed. “No, I'll wait here. I'll just stand and look pretty.”
“You do that,” Patrick smiled and walked off.
“McKenna, it's good to see you here,” Ms. Jasmine hugged her. “Your grandmother would be more than elated.”
“I know.”
Ms. Jasmine put her arm around Kayden's small shoulders. He was still half-asleep. “I've gotta get this kid home, but I'm right next door if you need anything. You know you can always stop by.”
“Of course,” McKenna tousled Kayden's hair. “I'll see you later.”
The pastor and Patrick were still engaged in conversation, but the church had emptied. McKenna was thankful she had avoided conversation with any of the congregants besides simple greetings from those who remembered her. She walked out into the hallway and stopped by the vending machine. They had raised the price of all the beverages to $1.75.
One true, sentimental desire she had was to walk downstairs to her former Sunday School classroom. It had been colorful, bright, and fun. But she was sure it was locked and she had no permission to venture there anyway.
“Ready to go?” Patrick placed his hand on the small of McKenna's back. He looked at the bulletin post McKenna was staring at. The funeral announcement of Lilliana Skye. “Yeah, I put it up before I came in.”
“It just makes it so official,” McKenna said sadly.
“I'm actually surprised you're taking it this well,” Patrick confessed. “You're being really strong. So strong I have to pretend to be stronger than I am so I won't look bad beside you.”
McKenna snickered. “That's funny. It's only because in my mind she's gone away for awhile. So don't be surprised if I start acting up in a few weeks.”
“I'll try not to be,” Patrick grinned. “Thanks for the warning. Hey, what made you decide to come to church today?”
“I was anticipating that question,” McKenna said. “Well, not anticipating like looking forward to it, but anticipating like waiting for you to ask.” She took a much-needed breath of oxygen.
  “I came to church because, well, I thought about what you said. And, I've been thinking- especially now- about God and it's been with...hate. Like you said. And I think, no-one ever explained to me like you did, about God doing things for good. I want to think like you do, that God loves us and wouldn't do things to cause pain, even if it hurts now.”
“Wow,” Patrick said after McKenna was through.
“Also, you might want me to go to church once we live together- if we live together- and I might as well get used to it.”
“I wouldn't force you to go to church,” Patrick said quietly. “Of course, I would want you to come with us. But I wouldn't force you to go until you were ready.”
“I'm okay to go,” McKenna assured him. “Honestly, though, I don't like Grammy's church. It's... like some of the girls in my school I told you about.”
“Superficial and shallow,” Patrick clarified with hardly a smile.
“Yes! People like Grammy and Ms. Jasmine aren't shallow, but others are. Cecilia and Cindy Wright for example. Aren't they supposed to be glorifying God? How can they be up there dressed like that? I know I dress pretty questionably sometimes, but I'm not up on a stage pretending to be holy and praising God. If I was to go to church, I would never choose that one.”
“You're right,” Patrick admitted. “I know how you feel. I'm not a big fan of Mami's church either. I'm used to my own. We don't have to go again.”
“Thank God!” McKenna exclaimed, raising her hands in the air. “Wait, do you think I'm right? That the Wright girls are kind of saying two different things.”
“Yes,” Patrick answered. “They are. At my church, there's a dress standard for worship leaders and anyone who is active in the church.”
“That's a good idea,” McKenna said. They had arrived at home and were working together in the kitchen to make a salad. “Also a relief. I'm so glad that I can wear whatever I want to church cuz I'm not gonna be active. So, halter tops for me!”
“Uh- no,” Patrick said. “Not to church.”
She grinned. “I know, Dad,” she drew out her vowel sounds. He laughed and it made her smile even harder. Then, Patrick splashed her with handful of water from the faucet. He longed to do whatever he could to get the lonely look from her eyes. It was terribly sad and haunting. “Hey!” McKenna cried, wiping her face on his dress shirt.
“What's that sound?” Patrick paused.
McKenna rolled her eyes. “I'm definitely too old for that. The minute I turn around, you're gonna dump a bucket of water over my head or...” she trailed off. “That's actually my phone.” McKenna raced off and found her phone right before the last ring. “Yeah, what's up?” she answered breathlessly.
“McKenna!” Tiara exclaimed happily. “I've been texting you. Jace said you were finally home.”
“Yeah, I haven't had my phone,” McKenna explained. “But I'm home. I'll be in school tomorrow.”
“Okay, so we'll talk then. We have a prep class during lunch period, so don't forget to pack a snack!”
Smiling, McKenna hung up the phone. She couldn't wait to see Tiara in the morning. “Good thing I deleted Facebook. I haven't even checked my Twitter, my Instagram, my e-mail,” she shook her head. “People been texting me. Patrick, see what you did to me? Me and my phone never separate.”
“Yeah, but did you miss it?” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you didn't even notice its absence.”
McKenna laughed. “You're so right. I didn't.” She abandoned the tomato she had been slicing and ran up the stairs to change. Maxi skirts were restrictive and caused tripping. They were only for church and days she wanted to walk like a snail.

  
“So, we need to talk,” Patrick said. He had waited until dinner was over and digested. There was no need for upset stomachs. Even now, he hated to bring up a subject that was sure to wipe the very genuine smile off of McKenna's face. The wistful expression had finally left her and she seemed to be pretty happy, content, and herself.
“What about?” McKenna frowned.
“I talked to Pastor Don-”
“I don't want anything, anything at all, to do with the funeral,” McKenna broke in. “I can't. I...” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Grammy liked calla lilies.”
“Calla lilies. Okay.” Patrick cleared his throat. “What about a repass? I was thinking to have it here. Ms. Jasmine offered to cook.”
“Just no paella,” McKenna sniffled. “That's sacred.”
Patrick reached over the table and held her hand. “I'm sorry we have to talk about this. I want you to be included in any decisions we make.”
McKenna nodded. “It's okay. What else?”
“Do you want to stay here with Ms. Jasmine while I fly back to Georgia on the weekend? You can stay and finish school. I'll get everything ready in Georgia to move up here. That's the first option. The second is: you can fly with me on Saturday and come back after we find a house (unless you want to stay in this house). That would mean possibly missing the last weeks of school.” He paused. “Or you can move down to Georgia and live with us.”
A groan escaped McKenna's lips and her head hit the table.
“I know it's a lot,” Patrick sympathized. “A lot of hard choices.”
“Okay.” McKenna sat up and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I definitely know I want to be there when the baby comes. So I'll fly back to Georgia with you on Saturday. And I also know I don't want to live in this house unless I have to. It's my home and I love it, but it would make me sad.”
“Alright,” Patrick said. “I did think you might not want to stay here. And you mentioned about being there for the baby's birth. I'll book your ticket and we'll figure everything else out later.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“A dad is someone who HOLDS you when you cry, SCOLDS you when you break the rules, SHINES with pride when you succeed, and has FAITH in you even when you fail.”

 

“Miss Skye, may I speak with you for a minute?”
Letting her locker slam closed behind her, McKenna turned around with a smile. “Hi, Mr. Chad.”
Once they had walked from the hallway to an open classroom, Bradford High's drama teacher told her what was on his mind. “You know we had auditions for our annual school play. You didn't sign up.”
“No,” McKenna smiled. “I've been really busy, but I can help with the scenery this week after classes maybe.”
“Your artwork is always beautiful,” Mr. Chad commented. “However, this year, my mind was heading in a different direction. I know it's short notice, but I haven't seen you around at all. I would have asked you earlier.”
“Asked me what earlier?” McKenna laughed at one of the school's coolest teacher's usual beating around the bush. “What's short notice?”
“Miss Skye, you know I never allow auditions for my protagonists. I always have a specific student in mind to play those important roles.” Mr. Chad stopped his rolling speech in hopes for a dramatic effect. “Miss Skye, this play needs... you.”
A snort of laughter burst out of McKenna. She didn't bother to disguise it because she knew Mr. Chad wouldn't mind. He was a down-to-earth, “in touch” teacher. “You want me to act?”
“No,” the drama teacher shook his head vehemently. His dyed afro didn't move an inch, neither did his wide-framed glasses. “I want you to... become.”
“Sorry, Mr. Chad.” McKenna offered him her smile. “I don't become. I only create. Besides, this may be my last week in school. I'm flying down to Georgia with my dad on Saturday. I won't be here.”
“You can miss the practices,” Mr. Chad assured her. “I'll give you some lines to memorize. All you have to do is practice every day. I can talk to your dad about flying you back up here in time for the play. We can communicate via e-mail and I'll only need you here for the dress rehearsal and actual performance.”
“Sorry,” McKenna shook her head. “I'm a behind-the-scenes kind of girl.”
“That's right,” he agreed. “You are a behind-the-scenes kind of girl, but Anna is not.” At McKenna's sigh, he pressed further. “Miss Skye, you will be a phenomenon.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Certain she was going to deny, Mr. Chad played his last card. “I suppose Brooke will be happy to have the part. She's been playing it temporarily, but she'll grab at the chance to have it permanently, although it's only by default.” He sighed dramatically. “I'll have to purchase a black wig.”
“Brooke?” McKenna stopped. “She's going to be...”
Mr. Chad allowed the silence to seep in, then he quietly said, “Unless you will reconsider.”
McKenna thought about it. She wasn't looking for revenge, but that didn't mean she wanted Brooke to star in the school play. It wasn't a sure thing she could even come back in two weeks. Still, she could try. “Alright,” McKenna hoped Mr. Chad wouldn't regret choosing her. The stage had always been her enemy. “I'll do it.”
“Splendid!” Mr. Chad let out the breath he had been holding. “Come, you can join the rest of the group in the auditorium. We're having a rehearsal right now. Your script is ready.” He was excited. “Remember, Miss Skye, become. Master Nohls will be waiting!”

 

“McKenna?” Patrick was waiting by the door when she arrived home. “I was about to come looking for you.”
“Sorry I'm late,” McKenna said breathlessly, dropping her backpack to the floor. It was after six; Patrick had to be worried sick. “I couldn't call cuz I forgot my phone here. Sorry.” She gave him a nervous look.
“I'm not mad,” he pulled on her ponytail, “Just a little worried.”
“Oh good,” she rummaged in the cupboard and grabbed for a pack of Oreo cookies. “I'm so starving.” She poured herself a glass of milk and took a seat.
“How's Tiara doing?” Patrick pulled his chair close to hers.
“She's good,” McKenna said through a mouthful of cookie, “We actually got sent to the office today for talking too much in class. Principal Rodgers just gave us lollipops and sent us back,” her nose wrinkled as she laughed. “Boy, that was funny. We had so much to talk about! We didn't even let Jace sit with us at lunch cuz we wanted to talk about him!”
McKenna's giggles made Patrick feel so warm inside. He looked at his young daughter with loving eyes. Every day he was more thankful and eternally grateful to have her. Closing his eyes, he sent a quick prayer heavenward. A prayer of thanks for the beautiful gift God had given thrice.
“Okay, Dad, I have something really important to ask you. Please say yes! Please please please?” she implored.
He laughed. “Ask me and we'll see.”
“Okay, so, I stayed late at school because I was at a rehearsal.” She gave him her 'eek' face. “Every year my school does a play. Last year I painted the set. But my drama teacher wants me to actually be in this one. So, you just have to agree to let me come back here in two weeks. I only need to be at the dress rehearsal, which is a day before the play. He said he'll pay for the ticket, round trip.”
“That's cool,” Patrick mused. “I'll pay for the ticket, especially since I want to fly with you.”
“You're coming?” McKenna asked in surprise.
“You don't want me to?”
“I do,” McKenna said quickly, “I'm just nervous. I have all my lines and I know I can memorize them, but I don't like being in front of people. And I'm even more scared because I'm acting with Jace. I do not know why Mr. Chad chose us. He keeps saying, 'you aren't you, Miss Skye, you are Anna. Master Nohls, you are not you. You are Uriel. Become.'” She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands in frustration.
Patrick chuckled. “So, what's this play about?”
“Oh, it's a really cool story,” McKenna's eyes lit up. “It's about this Jewish boy, Uriel. He and his family set out to leave Russia and come to America. But the family dies and it's just him and his little sister. Chava.”
“You're the little sister?” Patrick snickered.
“No, she's only three. I think they want to use Nadia's sister,” McKenna said. “I'm Anna, the girl Uriel meets and journeys to the land of the free with. She's kind of his inspiration to keep going and helps with Chava.
“Mr. Chad said he wanted me to 'become' Anna, not only because of my black hair, but because of the genuine look of knowing in my eyes. He said I have a maturity about me and an understanding that shows I have experienced a lot in my few years.”
“You have,” Patrick nodded. He knew exactly what look Mr. Chad was describing.
McKenna shrugged. “I don't know. But they go through a lot of stuff before they get to America. It's like a story of survival and perseverance, I guess. I really like it.”
“It sounds nice,” Patrick said. “I'm sure you'll do a great job.”
“Thanks,” McKenna said, peeling the crème out of her cookie and popping it into her mouth. She dumped the chocolate cookie into her milk and sloshed it around.
“Wow,” Patrick shook his head in amazement. “Lucas does the same exact thing.”
“It makes chocolate milk,” McKenna laughed.
“Also, chocolate mustaches,” Patrick reached over and wiped the milk off of McKenna's upper lip.
“Yup,” McKenna forced herself to sit still and not shy away from his touch. (It was weird to have people touching your face.) She downed the glass of milk in a couple of gulps. “Okay, I have to go study. Actually, cram. I think tomorrow is my U.S. History&Gov. Regent.”
“Hey, Kenna,” He called to her before she even made it to the staircase. Why did he have to be the one to steal her smile?
“Yeah, Dad?”
That warmed his heart, forced his mouth to spread in a smile. It sounded so natural, flowing out of her. He paused, “I love you, baby.”
McKenna turned and reentered the kitchen. “That wasn't what you were going to say.”
“I know,” he sighed. “The funeral's on Wednesday. At 7. The viewing is at 5 and the burial is directly after the service.”
“I never heard of a night burial,” McKenna said.
“They happen,” Patrick informed her, “I didn't want to prolong this whole thing. And that way the repass will be shortened. We'll just have refreshments, no food. Do you need me to take you shopping for anything? We can go now or tomorrow after you get home.”
“No, I'm good,” McKenna said, “Well, not good good, but I don't need you to take me shopping. Um,” she cleared her throat a little, blinked her eyes a lot. “Do you think you could put me on the program? I kind of want to sing something for Grammy.”
“That would be nice,” Patrick came close and gathered McKenna in his arms. “Don't run, Princess. And you can stop blinking. If it's okay for me to cry outside of St. John's, it's definitely okay for you to cry inside your own house. You don't have to be so strong.”
McKenna nodded and wiped her eyes. “I gotta go study.”
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“A daughter   is one of the most beautiful gifts this world has to give.”

School ended early for McKenna and Tiara on Wednesday. Patrick had bailed the both of them out and Kiani, Tiara's older sister, took them shopping. They spent the entire afternoon at malls and outlets. It was fifteen minutes to seven when they pulled into the parking lot of Freedom in Christ Church. Patrick was waiting outside in a black suit.
“Good, you guys made it,” he said with relief.
“I wouldn't be late,” McKenna said, feeling a little cross.
“Hey, we'll catch you later,” Tiara pulled her in for a big hug. “You be strong, girl. If you need me, I'm right inside.”
“Thanks,” McKenna widened her eyes so they wouldn't leak and ruin her makeup, “Thank you for taking us, Kiani.” She gave her a hug as well.
“You are growing up way too fast,” Patrick shook his head. “I'm not sure I'm gonna like warding off all those boys, but you look especially beautiful tonight.”
“Thanks,” McKenna was glad. She had defied all traditional rules of funeral colors and had clothed herself completely in white. She wore a long dress with short, winged sleeves. Its crocheted sash was tied in a way that complemented her figure. Her shoes were nothing fancy, just a pair of white, ballet flats. You could only see them when she walked- that's how long her dress fell.
  Absolutely nothing had been done to her hair besides the additive of a rose. White, of course. The contrast between the flower and McKenna's dark curls was stark.
Patrick's meaning of “growing up” referred to her makeup, McKenna was sure. Kiani had done it and although the colors were natural and the strokes thin, it made McKenna look older than fifteen. The mascara enhanced the deep color of her eyes. The blush accented her cheekbones. After staring in the mirror for minutes on end, McKenna still was not used to her new appearance.
“What made you decide to wear white?” Patrick asked.
“It was Grammy's favorite color,” McKenna replied. “I hope you aren't mad that I did. I didn't know whether it was disrespectful or not.”
“It's not disrespectful,” Patrick smiled at her consideration. “Mami would have liked it, although I'm not sure she would approve of all that makeup.”
McKenna grinned and protested, “It's not even a lot!”
“Come on,” Patrick touched her elbow lightly. “Let's get inside.”
It seemed as if everyone's eyes were on McKenna as they walked inside the church. Well, she didn't blame them. Someone dressed in white isn't something you often see at a funeral.
She didn't know how, but somehow, someway, she made it to the front. As soon as her behind touched the pew, McKenna grabbed her dad's hand. He squeezed it tightly, more to comfort himself than her. This was going to be a hard night.
McKenna did everything she could to block out Pastor Don's words. The eulogy had come so fast! It was the dreaded part of the service. McKenna longed to rewind to the choir's singing of “Soon And Very Soon” or fast forward to remarks. She hated hearing the Scripture verse that said there was a time to be born and a time to die. That word. Die. It was so... common. Grammy didn't deserve common.
Suddenly, McKenna heard a loud cough behind her. She turned around slightly and couldn't help but smile. Mr. Nohls, Jordan, Kiani, Tiara, and Jace were seated in the same pew, three behind hers. They each held up a white sheet of paper. McKenna turned around all the way to see the message fully. BE STRONG AND VERY COURAGEOUS.
McKenna grinned. She knew that was something from the Bible. It was so sweet of them to send a message to her at the time she needed it most. She did not want to be the wailing person everyone remembered after a funeral. Filled with gratitude, McKenna mouthed “thank-,” but Mrs. Fennewaite's deathly glare caused her to turn right back around in her seat. Yikes.
“What are you doing?” Patrick nudged her.
She gestured to the bench behind them and Patrick saw for himself. Mrs. Fennewaite's scowl was not something you wanted to experience close up.
After Pastor Don's eulogy, about half the assembly went up to say nice things about Grammy. The Wright girls commented on her sweet spirit. Pastor Don's wife told of the day she met Lilliana Skye. Even Mrs. Fennewaite went up and said that Grammy's paella was the only thing that could bring a smile to her face. (Poor Mrs. Fennewaite. She would never smile again and her face would remain contorted all the days of her life.)
McKenna's favorite remarks were those from Patrick, Ms. Jasmine, and Mr. Nohls. Patrick almost cried when he said how much he appreciated his Mami's unconditional love. He called himself a “prodigal son.” Ms. Jasmine explained how Grammy had helped her when Kayden was born and his father left. Mr. Nohls told everyone that without Grammy's kindness, he and his boys would have fallen through the cracks. That was sad.
Before McKenna could prepare herself, the remarks ended and she was called to the stage. Later, she would berate Patrick for putting her last on the program. The entire church watched as McKenna took the offered mic and began to sing.
It was harder than she could imagine. The first three words of the song would have been lost if not for the microphone. Unable to look at the audience's faces any longer, McKenna closed her eyes and sang as if she were alone in her bedroom. She put every feeling she had inside into the lyrics of “The Rose.”

“It's crazy to think Grammy's underneath the ground,” McKenna shivered. She had finally escaped the craze of her house to the front steps. She had been polite to all of Grammy's friends who had lied through their teeth about loving her outfit. Anybody could look at their twisted faces and see their true feelings.
  She appreciated Mrs. Fennewaite's honesty; the woman had accused her of being conceited and using her grandmother's funeral to bring attention to herself. It had been painful, but McKenna had merely smiled and thanked her.
“She's not underneath the ground, McKenna,” Tiara put an arm around her friend. “She's in heaven.”
“Thanks,” McKenna whispered. “I needed that.”
“Tiara, we've gotta go,” Kiani left the house and stopped by the girls. If anybody was attention-getting, it was she. Her thin, black dress exposed her to the point McKenna didn't know how she could feel comfortable, especially attending a funeral held in a church. “Essays will not wait.”
“Alright,” Tiara said. She hugged McKenna, “You can call me if you need to.”
“Thank you for being so wise,” McKenna said. “The things you say are really helpful.” She turned to Kiani, “And thank you for taking us out today and coming to the service. Also... for calling Jordan that day I needed him.” She flushed with embarrassment at remembrance of the incident.
“Don't mention it,” Kiani said, already walking down the driveway. “Come on, Ti.”
“We're leaving, McKenna,” Mr. Nohls came out of the house next, followed by Jordan. “I have to get back to work.”
“Me too, Shrimpster,” Jordan engulfed her in one of his suffocating hugs. “I was so proud of you singing tonight.”
“Thanks,” McKenna hid her grin. She thought how surprised he would be when he saw her being Anna in a few weeks. She couldn't wait to see his face!
“Hey, remember that conversation we had last week about the girl at the photo studio?” Jordan asked. “Would you put Tiara's sister in that same category? Cuz I think she's great. We've been talking ever since she called me that night.”
McKenna grinned, “Uh-oh. Well, I think she's great too. Her clothes... she doesn't seem insecure to me at all, more like very secure and showing it. I wouldn't feel comfortable wearing what she's wearing, though. But she's comfortable and what really, really matters is that you like her.”
“Yeah,” Jordan flushed. “Well, I can't be late.”
“So go!” McKenna hugged him tighter and he laughed.
“It was real sweet of your grandma to leave her car to me,” Jordan said in her ear. “Now I can retire that old truck and we can get to Georgia faster next time.”
“Mmm hmmm,” McKenna sniffled against his shirt. She turned and gave Mr. Nohls a hug. “Thanks so much for coming. And for that sign you guys made.”
After Mr. Nohls and Jordan pulled away, McKenna was left on the steps alone. She could hear all the chattering and laughter coming from inside, but she didn't want to be there. She was too tired to be polite. She couldn't even sneak to the living room and watch Pepper Pig with Kayden; someone was sure to spot her.
“You don't want any cake?” Jace came outside and sat beside her. “It's good.”
“No, I don't want to eat anything,” McKenna rubbed her stomach. “But if Ms. Jasmine made it I'm sure it's really good.” She turned up her nose in disgust at his plate. It held chocolate cake, pound cake, sugar cookies, and tortilla chips with spinach dip. Together.
“Everybody's gonna pass you on their way out,” Jace stated the obvious. “Wouldn't it be better to sit on the back steps if you don't want to see anyone?”
“It would be better, but the back door is open to air out the kitchen. They're gonna see me and probably come pester my life.” McKenna fought to control her eyes. They longed to roll, but she didn't want to hurt Jace's feelings.
“Oh,” Jace held his plate out toward her. “Sure you don't want some?”
“No, thank you,” McKenna said firmly. She already felt nauseous.
“Um,” Jace looked down at the ground. “You look super fly, Kenny. I mean, crazy beautiful.” He cleared his throat and dug his sneaker into the ground.
This time McKenna gave into herself and rolled her eyes. “It's not like you've never seen me wear makeup,” she scoffed. “And why are you so nervous around me anyway?”
Most likely Jace wasn't aware that his skin was the color of a Florida orange. He rubbed the back of his warm neck. His hands were clammy. “It's like this, Kenny. I like you and I don't know what to do with that feeling. I'm crazy about you.”
McKenna shook her head. “I think you should calm down that feeling.”
“Really?” Jace got up and threw his full plate into the trash can. “Don't you think Mr. Chad putting us in the play together is like fate or something?”
“No, I think it's weird,” McKenna said plainly. “And I think we should stop talking about this or things are going to get really awkward between us. I'm not kidding.”
“But-” Jace's protest was cut off. Ashleigh and her dad (step-dad, really) were walking toward them. McKenna hadn't even been aware that her ex-best friend was in her house. She wondered if Ashleigh had been forced to come.
“McKenna, you haven't been to the house in a while,” Mr. Smith hugged her. She kept her body taut. As much as she liked Ashleigh's father, it seemed disloyal to her own dad. She had often wished Mr. Smith was hers. Patrick would be so sad to know she had almost replaced him.
“Thanks for coming,” McKenna ignored his inquisitive statement and said the customary line.
“Your grandmother was a good woman,” Mr. Smith turned to Ashleigh. She was wearing tight, black leather pants and red stiletto heels. “Ready to go, hon?”
“I'm coming,” Ashleigh said in a voice surprisingly foreign to McKenna. She didn't know what had happened to her best friend, but whatever it was wasn't good. Ashleigh waited until her father turned away, then cut her eyes at McKenna and called her a name that sliced McKenna's heart like a rusted blade would. Too stunned to react, McKenna watched as Ashleigh strutted down the driveway, bottom switching all the way.
“Wait,” McKenna laughed a little. “Did I miss something? Did I ever do anything to her? Was I the one to steal her boyfriend? I'm confused.”
“That was pretty mean,” Jace said. “No, you didn't do anything to her. That's just how she is now. She got a detention last week for cursing out Mrs. Greenfield.”
“What happened?” McKenna asked, genuinely concerned. “How could she change so fast? I can't believe we actually were best friends a couple of months ago.”
“I kind of have an idea,” Jace said. “You know her parents are getting a divorce?”
McKenna was shocked. Mr. and Mrs. Smith had always seemed to be a perfect couple out of some kind of fairytale. “Why, what happened?”
“Her mom's pregnant with another guy's baby.”
“That is so crazy!” McKenna shook her head. No wonder Ashleigh was acting different; she probably didn't know how to deal.
“Yeah, it is. I think Mr. Smith was willing to work it out, but Ashleigh's mom didn't want to. She's gonna marry the guy from her job. So, Ashleigh and her brothers and sisters are moving to California, with Mr. Smith.”
“Wow.” Wow didn't even express McKenna's rambling thoughts. She now could understand a little of Ashleigh's actions. It was deeper than McKenna or even Jace. Her rude words and temperament probably had nothing to do with them. It was the underlying problem. Her family was falling apart.
“I think it's great of Mr. Smith to take all the kids when only two of them belong to him,” Jace commented. “He could have left them to live with their mom and the new guy.”
“He wouldn't do that,” McKenna was certain. “They all belong to him. He cares for them and treats them like his own kids. They're closer to him than to their own mom. Especially Ash.”
“So, you forgive her?” Jace asked.
“I forgave her a while ago,” McKenna told him. It was true. She had stopped hating. It was easy to forgive anyone after forgiving Patrick. Besides, hatred took up tons of space in your heart, leaving barely any room for love. “But now I can understand.”
“Yeah.”
They sat quietly in the dark for a while. Every few minutes, someone would leave the house and give their condolences to McKenna before departing. She would be so relieved when her house was finally empty.
“Can you keep a secret?” McKenna asked. “Well, it's not much of a secret. Soon everyone will know, but right now nobody does.”
“And you want to tell me?” Jace pushed his finger into his chest. He widened his eyes and filled his cheeks with air. It made McKenna smile not only because he looked like a blowfish, but also because she used to tell him a lot of secrets. Now, they hardly talked. They just weren't together much and their paths didn't cross.
“Yes,” she said. “You'll be the very first to know. Ashleigh isn't the only one moving. I am too.”
The declaration surprised the both of them. McKenna didn't know where it had come from! She had decided just out of the blue. No thought had been given to the matter, but she knew it was what she wanted.
“Why?” Jace asked after the information seeped into his brain.
McKenna sighed. “Patrick gave me a choice. New York or Georgia. And as much as I love it here: I love you, your brother, your dad; Ms. Jasmine and Kayden; Tiara and Kiani.” She bit her lip to control its wobbling.
  “I love running down Lincoln Avenue to Braxton, finding you waiting. I love sitting on the counter with Jordan. I love the feeling I get when your dad leaves for work and we run alongside his car. I love sitting in Ms. Jasmine's garden with a book while she explains the meaning of the flowers. I love watching Pepper Pig or Ratatouille with Kayden. I love those deep conversations I have with Tiara. I love hearing Kiani grunt after I say something to her. I love...” McKenna hunched over and covered her face with her hands.
“So why are you leaving?” Jace asked again. “He gave you a choice. Why don't you just stay here?”
“I can't.” McKenna cried. “I can't live here with Grammy gone. There are too many memories. And they hurt. I just want to get away.”
“When will you go?” Jace asked. McKenna could tell he was upset with her decision. She didn't know if he cared because he cared about her, if he cared because he didn't want to say goodbye to a friend, or if he cared because he wouldn't be able to convince her to date him again.
“I'm leaving on Saturday,” McKenna informed him. “But I'm coming back for the play, so you'll see me then. I promise I won't just disappear. I'll say goodbye.”
“Lauren didn't,” Jace spit out angrily. He stood, obviously agitated. It hurt McKenna to see the pain etched in his features. She went against her better judgment and hugged him. There was a quick intake of breath, then Jace pushed her away. “I'm going home.”
McKenna was not about to let him leave like that. “I'll walk you to Lincoln.” She planted her hands firmly on her hips. Knowing he was about to refuse, she raised both her eyebrows. “I'm not asking; I'm telling you.”
He smiled and a little of the sadness melted. “Race you to the corner?”
McKenna hiked up her dress. “On your mark...”

By the time McKenna reached home, all the people had gone. It was just her dad and Ms. Jasmine. Boy, was she relieved.
“Where have you been?” Patrick asked, looking at her heaving chest and perspiring forehead.
“I walked Jace to Lincoln,” McKenna said. She took a few gulps of air to stabilize her breathing. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, McKenna pulled herself up onto the counter. “Ugh, I need to get out of this dress!”
“Your dress is beautiful,” Ms. Jasmine smiled.
“Thanks,” McKenna looked up from the cookie in her hand. “Where's Kayden?”
“He's asleep,” Patrick answered. “I'm about to carry him next door.”
“Wait, before you do,” McKenna put down the water bottle and swallowed. “Since both of you guys are here, I only have to say this once.” The kitchen was quiet. “I decided I want to move down to Georgia to live.”
“Are you sure?” Patrick stepped closer to her. “It's just as easy for us to move up here.”
“No,” McKenna shook her head. Her mind was made up. “I want to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“It is admirable for a man to take his son fishing, but there is a special place in heaven for the father who takes his daughter shopping.”

 

“...Whether or not your test is complete, please come to the office. McKenna Skye, please come to the office.”
Embarrassed, McKenna got up quickly from her seat. No-one even looked at her; they were all too busy with their tests.  She gave her booklet to Mr. Jareds, who was the proctor for the English Regent. After his consent, she scurried down the hall to the office.
“Did you finish your test?” Patrick got up from his seat.
“Yeah, I was done when they called,” she looked behind her at Mrs. Greenfield. The woman was pretending to look engaged and disinterested, but you could almost see her ears straining to hear. “What's going on?”
“Avalon's at the hospital,” Patrick grinned. “Baby's coming.”
“Oh, goodness!” McKenna exclaimed. “That was fast.”
“It was,” Patrick waved through the glass at Principal Rodgers and led McKenna out of the office. “I wish it could've waited until tomorrow. Did you know it costs $200 to change a flight? I'm surprised I'm not broke already.”
“We could have waited to leave until tomorrow,” McKenna said.
“Are you crazy!” Patrick exclaimed. “I want to be there before the baby is born. Come on, the taxi is waiting.”
“I didn't get to say goodbye to anyone,” McKenna complained. She had promised Jace a goodbye and everyone else important to her definitely deserved one. When would her life stop tossing impromptu things in her path? It was getting irritating.
“We're coming back for the play, remember?” Patrick opened the taxi door and shooed her in. “You can say goodbye then.”
“I guess that will be okay,” she said glumly. “Did you pack all of my stuff?”
“Uh,” Patrick rubbed his chin. “I packed a lot of clothes. I know girls wear a lot of clothes. I put everything from the floor in the suitcase. Uh, I don't know. I'm sorry, Princess. I'm not as efficient and organized as you are, especially in packing.”
“It's okay,” she laid her head on his knee. Her hair served as a pillow. “Everything on the floor was what I dumped out the suitcase in the first place, to wash.”
“So I packed a suitcase of dirty clothes.”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
“I made sure to pack your drawing pad,” Patrick poked her stomach. “Cheer up, okay?”
“If God does everything for good, does that mean I can't be upset with the shakiness of my life?”
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “Not at all.”
“I'm glad the baby is coming,” McKenna said. “But I'm nervous to move. What if I don't like it in Georgia? What if things don't settle down and I stay shaky? What if I want to come back home?”
“If you want to come back home, you can,” Patrick promised. “If you don't like it or you just miss New York, you can come for a visit, you can stay with Ms. Jasmine. I'm gonna try my hardest to give you a stable home, but if you really want to, you can move back.”
“And then what if I decide I really liked Georgia better and want to move again?” McKenna's eyebrows scrunched down and her mouth pouted.
“Please don't,” Patrick laughed. “Before you know it, we'll be homeless. And stop what-iffin. Things are gonna work out. Trust me.”
“Okay,” McKenna agreed.
“Let's go, the plane won't wait,” Patrick said. “Help me with the luggage?”

 

Once on the plane, McKenna continued with her many questions. “What about our house? What's going to happen to it? What about our things?”
“The house now has a For Sale sign on the front lawn,” Patrick answered patiently. “Ms. Jasmine is going to take care of all of your things. She's gonna pack everything in boxes and the We Move company will send a couple of guys out on Monday.”
“To do what?” McKenna frowned.
“To load up the boxes and drive the truck down to Georgia. We can put everything in the basement until you're ready to go through them.”
“That sounds okay. What about the Hiding Place?
“The Hiding Place?” Patrick was confused. “Corrie Ten Boom, right?”
“No, my secret hideout,” McKenna laughed.
“I went in there today and got the stuff out. It's all in your bedroom, waiting to be packed with the rest of your things.”
“I'm gonna miss it,” McKenna wrinkled her nose. “That was like my sacred hollow. Hey, if someone buys the house, don't tell them about it, okay? Then, maybe some kid will discover it like I did and they'll have their sanctuary.”
“Alright,” Patrick said. He didn't tell McKenna that he had already decided to leave the room a secret.
“Did you bring the blanket?” McKenna asked. Looking at the puffy clouds made her feel chilly.
“Uh...” Patrick scratched his head. “Any other day, I would have remembered. Maybe. This kid is just like you, McKenna. Terrible timing.”
“Stop changing the subject,” McKenna laughed. “You're the one with terrible timing. How is it that you miss all your kids' births because you're in a totally different state?”
“I didn't miss Lucas' birth,” Patrick said with defiance. “I was right there in hospital, just in the café getting a cup of black to keep me awake.”
That cracked McKenna up. “Oh, wow, that's what you call being present? Anyway, I'm cold.”
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” Patrick quoted. Like taking out her ponytail would warm her shoulders. “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Then, I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your hair down!”
McKenna stared at him in disbelief. “Something is wrong,” she shook her head. “Those are two completely different stories.”
“I know,” Patrick opened his arms and let McKenna snuggle against him. His chin was hard on top of her head. “I'm about to have three kids. I'm feeling a little loopy.”
“Did you guys pick out a name?”
“Nah,” Patrick replied. “Avalon believes the baby shouldn't be named until its birth. Like Lucas. She looked at him and just decided on the spot that he was a Lucas Gabriel Skye.”
“Mmm,” McKenna had to admit that Lucas did look like a Lucas Gabriel. “Did you name me or did my mom?”
“Your mom did,” Patrick answered. “I chose your middle name.” He smiled and  looked down at her. “You sure have a lot of questions inside of you.”
“Yeah,” McKenna smiled shyly. “They're just waiting to come out.”
“Well, I have a question,” Patrick said slowly. “If I'm allowed to ask questions. I have two, actually.”
“Go figure,” McKenna said, wondering what he wanted to know.
“First one involves Jace.” He stopped, then started again. “About Jace. Are you guys going out again or are you just friends? I need to know if I should load my shotgun.” He wasn't playing. It was his job to protect his daughter. He hadn't done his duty before, but he sure was gonna do it now.
“If you shot Jace, you would go to jail,” McKenna told him, as if he didn't already know. “And I would never speak to you again. I will not have a father who is a murderer and I will not visit you in jail.”
“Not a literal gun, McKenna,” Patrick wasn't sure if she was serious or not.
“Oh, I know,” she assured him. “I'm just saying.” She sat up. That way she could use her hands to gesture. “Jace and I are just friends right now, but he wants to get back together. What do you think about that?”
“My only concern is your happiness, Princess. That, and if he treats you right. The second I see him cross any line, he gets kicked to the curb. Understand?”
“Yes, I do,” she said. She would be first to kick anyone to the curb.
“Do you like him like that?”
“No,” McKenna shook her head vehemently. “I don't. I told him we aren't gonna work out, but he keeps pressing the issue. I like him- as a friend-, but he's gotten really immature. I don't know what happened.” She sighed. “Tiara thinks it's because I've matured and he hasn't.”
“That's probable,” Patrick said.
“So the way he acts is really young and it makes me want to eye roll constantly. If he stops asking about going out, I think we can be good friends.”
“If you need me to say something to him, I can,” Patrick offered.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” McKenna smiled. “It's nothing I can't handle.” She really was used to fighting her own battles. She had fought a lot in her life. For Legos (kindergarten), for lunch (elementary), and for love (middle school).
“If you meet some guy in Atlanta, I'll be there with a metal bat,” Patrick said fiercely. He was glad his daughter had the ability to protect herself, but he wanted to do the honors.
McKenna smiled again.“That's sweet, but you can use the bat for something else. I'm gonna be single for a while.”
“Did that boy hurt you or something?” Patrick asked. “More than I know?”
“Who, Jace?” McKenna was confused.
“No. Elliot.”
“I don't know what you know,” McKenna told him, “but I do know that I'm alright now. I hardly think about him.” She laughed shortly. “I think you asked more than two questions.”
“Yeah,” Patrick laughed. “My real second question was about your birthday. What do you want to do?”
“You know when my birthday is?” For some reason McKenna was surprised. She didn't know Patrick would remember the day of her birth.
“Of course,” Patrick scoffed. He could never forget the day his daughter was born. “August the 23rd. You were this tiny,” he showed her with his hands. “5 lbs and 2 oz. I don't know how in the world you got so tall!”
McKenna grinned. “For my birthday, which is a whole, forever, two months away, I don't want to do anything special. I just want to be with you.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.”

“Menna!” Lucas leaped up from his chair, passed by his own father, and threw himself into her arms. “You come back!”
“Hi to you too, buddy,” Patrick tousled his son's hair and moved on to Teri. “Terilynn, hi. What's going on?”
“We've been here for a few hours,” Teri smiled. “Ms. Avalon's water broke all over the kitchen floor. Lucas and I got to ride with her in the ambulance.” She hugged McKenna over Lucas' small body. “I'm glad you're here because I have got to get home. So you'll watch Lucas?”
“Sure,” McKenna said. “He won't let go of me anyway.”
“Okay,” Terilynn said. Her head scarf was pink with green alligators. “Come over whenever you get back to the house. We can talk or eat or whatever.” With that, Teri disappeared, leaving McKenna in the waiting room, holding a three year-old, surrounded by various pieces of luggage.
After a long while of reading Are You My Mother over and over again, Patrick finally came and rescued her. “Hey, Princess. You and Lucas can come see the baby.”
Butterflies fluttered around in McKenna's stomach. She had never seen a newborn baby on its first day of life. And this was not just any baby; it was her own special little one who had kicked its recognition through Avalon's womb. She knew they were going to connect instantly!
They traveled down a hallway that smelled of hospital. (You know, that too clean, too white smell) McKenna was so excited she couldn't even answer Lucas' questions of where they were going and were they going to see Mama. She was so anxious she couldn't get the silly grin off her face.
“Hi,” Avalon smiled weakly as they entered the room. Her face was tired but happy. In her arms she held the little bundle that was the baby.
“Hi,” McKenna choked out the word. Tears flooded her eyes. “I read in a book that each time someone dies, God sends a baby as a gift for what He has taken from us. Do you think that's what's up?”
“It could be what's up,” Avalon pondered. “I don't know. Would you like to hold your baby brother?”
“Yes, please,” McKenna took the little bundle into her arms. “I was so waiting for him.” She peeled back the white blanket with the green and pink stripes. The baby's face was red and wrinkled, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth hung open in an awkward way, his head seemed too big for his body, and he had hardly any hair. But he was beautiful to McKenna, even perfect.
“I see too?” Lucas tiptoed and pulled at McKenna's arm.
McKenna stooped to allow Lucas to see the baby. “That's our brother, Lukey. Isn't he so cute?”
“No!” Lucas laughed and smacked his hand against his head. He shook his little head back and forth. “Too small. Grow big like me.”
“He will grow big like you,” McKenna smiled. “And you can play with him.”
“No no!” Lucas' protests were high-pitched. “No hair,” he shook his head and laughed. He pulled at his hair and tried to give some to the sleeping baby. “Need hair like me.”
“He will,” McKenna handed the baby carefully back to Avalon. “He's gonna grow hair. It might be blond, like yours; red, like Mama's; black, like mine; or maybe gray... like Daddy's.” She threw her head back and laughed. Lucas laughed too, slapping his right knee like he actually got the crack.
“Hey,” Patrick shoved McKenna gently. “I'm still black-haired until at least 50% is gray. And you and your brother are the only reasons for these gray strands.”
“That's why they're called 'love grays',” McKenna smiled. “Did you get here in time for the baby?” She looked at the hospital bed. Avalon was in her own world, watching over her little son.
Patrick grinned. “I saw his legs and feet come through.”
“Ew, gross,” McKenna shuddered, wrinkling her nose. She would not like to watch a baby break through the birth canal, ever. Not even her own child.
This reminded her of the commercial where a baby jumped off a hospital bed, grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut his own umbilical cord. He snapped a few selfies and ran down the hospital corridor, leaving the nurses and doctor to wonder. It was called Internet Baby or some other such nonsense. Creepy.
“Did you think of a name for him?” McKenna knelt down beside the bed to be close to Avalon and the baby.
“No,” Avalon looked up at Patrick and smiled before meeting McKenna's eyes. “We wanted you to name him.”
“Get out,” McKenna was elated. How often did teenage girls get to name important things like babies? Naming a baby was not like naming a dog or cat or stuffed animal. This little baby could be teased ten years down the road for his name. Or, fifteen years later, he could be the most popular guy at school because he had a shmexy name. McKenna was kind of creating a little of his destiny.
“It was Avalon's idea,” Patrick said, “and I'm all for it.”
“This is so exciting!” McKenna bit back her giggle. “This is so serious. I'm not gonna give him a name because of what it means, but because of how it sounds. I don't want him to hate his name or anything. Or hate me because I gave it to him.”
“I'm sure he won't hate you,” Avalon said. “You're gonna be his super cool sister who comes from college and brings him toys.”
“Yeah,” McKenna liked that thought. “We are like almost sixteen years apart. So when he's fifteen, Lucas will be leaving for college, and I'll be thirty. Oh, I can't wait!”
“Please,” Patrick sighed. “Don't rush it.” He was not ready to send his kids to college and was definitely in no hurry to sign up for Medicare (although he would only be 53 by then).
McKenna pulled out her iphone and quickly found a baby names website: Baby Zone courtesy of Disney. “The name has to have the k sound,” McKenna told them as she scrolled, “cuz Lucas and McKenna do.”
“I not,” Lucas said belligerently. He didn't even know what he was answering to; he was busy playing Sky Burger on Patrick's phone. “I not, only Menna.”
“You're just obstinate,” McKenna said distractedly. She sat on her heels. “Okay, guys. I found a name. I really like it cuz it's cute and it has the k sound.” She chewed at her bottom lip. “At least, I think it's cute.”
“What's the name?” Avalon and Patrick asked simultaneously.
“Jinx! Brontosaurus!” Lucas crowed and McKenna knocked on the wall three times.
“This one's gonna be like a paleontologist or something,” McKenna prophesied. “Right, Lukey? You're gonna be making the money?”
“No!” Lucas said indignantly, then laughed, “Have money!”
“Okay, you won't make the money, you'll just have it,” she shook her head. “Gosh, he's contradictory.” She sighed, “Alright, back to business. What do you guys think of the name 'Kian?' Kian Alejandro Skye.”
“Alejandro. Isn't that Spanish?” Patrick inquired.
“Yes,” McKenna gave him a small smile. “Because Grammy didn't meet any of her grandsons.”
“I love it,” Patrick told her.
“What do you think, Avalon?” McKenna turned her attention back to her new brother and step-mother. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” Avalon smiled. “It's different, but not in a bad way. You're right about it being cute. And I love the way his full name rolls off my tongue. Kian Alejandro Skye. It's perfect.”
“Do you like it, Lucas?” McKenna asked her brother. She knew he would probably say no.
“What.” Lucas put down the phone and stared at McKenna. He rolled his eyes. “What now, Menna.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” McKenna blinked rapidly. “Did you see his face? Did you guys just see his face?”
“Lucas, don't be rude,” Avalon scolded.
McKenna turned her head so Lucas wouldn't see her laughing. “But did you see his face?” McKenna whispered. “He looked exactly like me. Where did he get that from? He picks up that fast?” She was amazed. “He got my face down!”
“Either it's just in his wiring,” Patrick said, “Or  he got it from you.”
McKenna grinned. “That's so cute. He copies me.” It was also scary. She had to be sure and watch herself around Lucas. She didn't want him badly influenced or affected by anything she did. Being an older sister was new to her, but McKenna knew little siblings tended to look up and follow. She had to be a good example for her brothers.
“McKenna, look. His eyes are opening,” Avalon said softly.
“Oh,” McKenna peered over the blanket. Kian's eyelids slowly lifted upward. His eyes were dark as a starless night, like McKenna's.
“I see!” Lucas demanded, dropping the phone onto the floor and clambering onto the bed.
“Careful,” Avalon adjusted herself so Lucas could fit beside her. He laughed and poked Kian's face. “Be careful, honey.” Avalon warned again. “You don't want to hurt your brother.”
The baby's face twisted up and McKenna held her breath, sure he was going to wail. She was pleasantly surprised by the burp that was followed by a smile. It was a little burp, but it made Lucas hold his belly and laugh. Of course, then he had to start his own round of burps.
“Keen Keen Keen,” Lucas said, finally deciding he liked his little brother. McKenna wondered how in the world Lucas could pronounce words like 'velociraptor,' yet he couldn't say McKenna or Kian properly.
“Before I forget,” Avalon said. “Chantal's coming in the morning to get some shots of Kian.”
“How does she even know you had the baby?” McKenna asked. “That just happened.”
“Teri called and told her I was in labor,” Avalon explained. “She couldn't make it today, but she texted and said she was definitely coming tomorrow. She wants to make a family album for us, so she'll probably stop by the house and pick out your clothes.”
“Pick out my clothes?” McKenna raised her eyebrows. “What, she thinks I'm incompetent?”
Avalon laughed. “No, she likes to choose the outfits for her pictures, so she can be sure they contrast the way she likes. Okay?”
McKenna shrugged and let go of her grudge against Chantal. After all, she had given them Patrick's address in the end. “It's okay with me as long as I can do my laundry. For some reason, my suitcase is filled with dirty clothes.” She gave Patrick a pointed look.
“Fine, I'll do your laundry,” Patrick laughed.
“Oh, thank you,” McKenna smiled sweetly and lifted Kian into her arms again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“A daughter may outgrow your lap, but she'll never outgrow your HEART.”

 

“Wake up,” Patrick came through the room a second time.
“I'm tired,” McKenna moaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “I can't get up. I'll be like the walking dead.”
“Why are you so tired?” Patrick sat on the bed and pulled the cover down underneath McKenna's chin.
“Chantal tired me out yesterday,” McKenna said. Her eyes were still shut. “Get up, sit down, turn that way, no, that way. Get up. Sit down.” She buried her face in the pillow. “My butt hurts.”
They had taken so many photos yesterday that it made McKenna never want to see a camera flash again. Chantal did not tire of thinking up new poses and positioning people. It was exhausting.
She wanted Avalon and Patrick, Patrick and McKenna, McKenna and Avalon; Patrick, Lucas, and Kian, McKenna, Lucas, and Kian, Avalon, Lucas, and Kian; Patrick, McKenna, Lucas, and Kian, Avalon, McKenna, Lucas, and Kian; McKenna and Lucas, Lucas and Kian, Kian and McKenna; Patrick and Lucas, Patrick and Kian; Avalon and Lucas, Avalon and Kian; Patrick, Avalon, McKenna, Lucas, and Kian; McKenna alone, Lucas alone, Kian alone; Kian, Kian, Kian.
They had all worn shades of red and jean. Chantal was excellent at arranging backgrounds and fixing her subjects. Sitting, standing, crouching, lying down. Plus, the baby had been crying a lot and the whole ordeal was really stressful. McKenna wasn't used to spending an entire day smiling for a camera. She could never be a model or actress!
“We're gonna pick up Avalon and Kian after church,” Patrick said.
“Oh, church,” McKenna groaned. She had promised Patrick she would come. With a sigh, she pulled herself into a sitting position. “Ow, my leg.”
“That hurts too?”
“Yeah, you're sitting on it,” she said. He moved and she was able to climb out of bed. “It's good I took out my clothes yesterday.”
“Lucas isn't very happy about missing Sunday School,” Patrick stated. “He's downstairs pouting. If you hurry, you can have a bowl of cereal before we go. Kix and chocolate milk, right?”
“Right,” McKenna beamed. He had been listening.
She came into the kitchen in a beige, A-line skirt with a light-blue sweater. The sweater had short sleeves, so she wasn't worried about being hot. “This is about my last church-appropriate outfit,” McKenna kissed Lucas' cheek. “I'm sorry I made you miss Sunday School.”
“Go 'way,” Lucas frowned at McKenna and continued to slosh the chocolate milk in his bowl.
“He'll come around,” Patrick said.
McKenna shrugged and sat down to eat her own cereal. “Teri wants me to sit with her in church. Is that okay?”
After church, they rode to the Grace Care Hospital. “Was this better than last week?” Patrick asked McKenna.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “All the girls on the choir wore skirts that went past their knees and nothing tight or revealing. Very modest.” She grinned. “It was so cool when Teri sang the verse for, um, 'I Could Sing of Your Love Forever.' Her voice is so clear and beautiful!”
“It is,” Patrick agreed. “Her voice is something else. That's why I raised my eyebrows when you asked to sit with her. I imagine you girls heard nothing of the sermon.”
McKenna giggled. “Her mom kept telling us to shh and her dad threatened to sit between us.”
“Aha, I was right,” Patrick took Lucas' hand as they crossed the street to the hospital.
“Yeah, but I still listened!” McKenna said, taking Lucas' other hand. He lifted his little legs and they swung him. “I mean, I got the gist of it. He- Pastor Everett?- was saying that not everybody is your neighbor. People pretend to be your friends so they can get close to you and use or hurt you, but we're supposed to know who our real friends are.”
“Hey,” Patrick gave her an admiring look, “That's pretty good. Not bad.”
“Not bad,” Lucas parroted. “Not bad at all.”
Patrick laughed. He held such a love in his heart for his kids. Lucas' personality was growing constantly, he was so proud of who McKenna was, and he couldn't wait to see who Kian would become.
Avalon waited for them in a wheelchair by the front desk. Her flowered tote rested by her feet and Kian rested in her arms. “Did church run long today?” She smiled at them.
“Mama is broken?” Lucas asked.
“No, Mama is not broken,” Avalon said crossly.
“Church wasn't any longer than usual,” Patrick bent down and grabbed Avalon's tote. “What's your rush?”
“I'm in a wheelchair,” Avalon said as if that explained something. “Excuse me, Nurse?” She flagged down a nurse in scrubs that matched McKenna's sweater. “I'm ready to go.”
Lucas tugged on McKenna's skirt, “Menna, Mama is broken.”
As soon as the nurse wheeled her to the car, Avalon practically leaped out of the wheelchair. “I hate those,” she said with disgust. “They make me feel like an invalid.”
The nurse sympathized with her, checked the car for the baby seat, and headed back toward the hospital.
“I wish he was up,” McKenna said as Patrick strapped Kian in his seat. She climbed in between the two car seats and helped Lucas with his belt. “Why does he sleep so much?”
Avalon laughed. “In a few weeks you'll be wishing he was asleep.”
“They cry a lot, I know,” McKenna said wistfully. “But it's fun when he's awake and not crying. He's soft and nice to hold.”
Patrick unlocked the door and allowed Avalon to step through first. She stopped in the foyer. McKenna had made a banner that said CONGRATULATIONS BABY and strung it from wall to wall. There were a bunch of balloons flying around the ceiling.
“Parasaurolophus!” Lucas pointed upward, before running off toward the kitchen. “Cake now!”
“He picked out some dino balloons,” McKenna smiled, “And we made a cake. Dad said you like vanilla frosting.”
“That is so sweet,” Avalon handed the baby to Patrick so her arms would be free to squeeze McKenna tightly.
“You feel so weird,” McKenna giggled. “Not bad weird, but different. I'm used to the baby bump separating us.”
“Believe me, I know I feel weird.” Avalon went and sat in the kitchen. “It's funny how you forget. I had Lucas only three years ago and I'd already forgotten how it feels to have a child.”
“Okay, thanks,” McKenna said abruptly. “Let me go change my clothes before we get a little TMI.” She skipped out the kitchen, feeling her bun beginning to slip and fall. “Hey, Dad?”
  He met her at the base of the stairs with a question mark on his face. “Yeah, what's up?”
  “It would totally super cool, amazing actually, if I could go to the same school as Terilynn. That way we can go together and I won't feel so nervous if I know somebody.”
“Don't worry,” Patrick said. “I'm submitting your application tomorrow.”
“Okay, just making sure,” McKenna said, bouncing off to her destination. She didn't even bother to close her bedroom door behind her. Her bedroom door. It was weird to call this bedroom hers. Knowing this was her new home was going to take a little getting used to.
McKenna knew Patrick really wanted her to feel comfortable here. He had given her lease to decorate this gigantic room in whatever way she wanted. She was going to try hard and make it her own.
Before McKenna ran back down the stairs- there were so many steps, she hoped Patrick wouldn't make a no running rule-, she hung up her clothes neatly. She had already checked the back of the closet for a secret room; there was none. Satisfied with the room's condition, McKenna turned to leave.
On the stair, her mind drifted to her mother. It wasn't premeditated, but McKenna seemed to think of her less each day. Squeezing her locket in her palm, McKenna vowed never to forget her mother and always to wear the locket.
The doorbell interrupted McKenna's moment of silence. Shaking herself from her memories, she flew down the remaining steps.
“I'll get it!” She called to the kitchen, “It's probably Teri. She said she was gonna come over later.” Pulling the door open, McKenna looked out and saw no-one. Only a yellow truck sporting a sun. Looking down at the packages on the top step, she was more than a little confused. “You guys get mail on Sundays from a yellow truck?”
“Yellow truck? Oh, it must be SunDs,” Patrick shouted from the kitchen over Lucas' clamoring.
“Ricky, please don't yell through the house. Go to where she is,” Avalon's voice was soft, but loud enough to be heard.
Patrick, holding Kian, came into the foyer. “We don't get ordinary mail on Sundays,” he said. “But SunDs is a company that delivers large packages on Sundays, for a great price. I'm pretty sure they're in New York, too.”
“Never heard of it,” McKenna shrugged. “SunDs? Like, Sunny D orange juice?”
“No,” Patrick smiled. “SunDs as in Sunday Deliveries.”
“Oh, that's kind of smart,” she bent down to look at the packages. “They're both addressed to me. One's from Ms. Jasmine and the other is from... Mrs. Fennewaite.”
“Open them,” Patrick urged her.
“Okay, okay,” she opened Ms. Jasmine's first. It had a note. “Dear McKenna,” she read, “These are really great books I think you should read. If not now, then someday.”
McKenna dug through the tissue paper to the books. They were both about the same size. Every Little Princess had a cover illustration of a tiara hung on a fairy wand. The Gift of Forgiveness' cover illustration was of a beautifully wrapped present.
McKenna lifted the books to her nose. They smelled beautiful and new. She smoothed the covers, then opened the first one, completely aware of Patrick's presence behind her. The dedication read: For McKenna, my own little princess, my inspiration.
“When did you write this one?” McKenna asked Patrick softly, holding up The Gift of Forgiveness.
“I started it after you told me that you'd become a sassysquatch if I messed up,” Patrick said in a husky voice. “It was only published last week. I don't even know how Ms. Jasmine got her hands on a copy- and an autographed copy at that!” He shook his head in amazement.
McKenna turned the pages and silently read the last paragraph in the book: “Love covers a multitude of sins and always conquers in the end. Love is not perfect, it sometimes means pain, but it is always beautiful and will always prevail.”  She flipped the cover of the book to read the dedication. It touched her heart just as the first one had. To McKenna, my undeserved gift from God.
“Am I really all of that?” She asked dubiously. “Your princess, your inspiration... your gift from God?”
“Yes, McKenna,” Patrick said. “All that and so much more.”
“Thanks,” McKenna smiled. She replaced the books neatly in their packaging. “I promise I'll read them before school starts in September.”
“Uh, actually,” Patrick corrected, “School starts in early August down here. The first or second week to be exact.”
“Oh brother!” McKenna exclaimed. Who wanted to attend school in the summer? “My birthday better not fall on a school day. Please tell me now if I have to wear a uniform or something, although Teri didn't mention it. Do we get holidays off?”
Patrick laughed. “No uniforms, Princess. And yes, I think you have a break at least every other month. And your summer vacation starts in May.”
“I guess I can deal,” McKenna said with a nod. She sat on the floor in order to open the box from Mrs. Fennewaite. “Let me hurry up before Lucas eats all the cake and I don't get any.” Then, under her breath, “She probably sent me a box of dead rats.”
“Heard that,” Patrick said.
McKenna read Mrs. Fennewaite's note aloud in a monotonous voice. “Dear McKenzie, I am sorry for what I said to you at your grandmother's repass. You looked lovely and my words were unkind and untrue.” McKenna stopped and switched to her real voice, “My name isn't McKenzie and I'm so glad she learned some manners.”
“You are something else, McKenna,” Patrick said. He didn't have a word to describe McKenna's large personality. He was learning more of who she was each day. And she was a girl who left him in wonder, in thankfulness, in amazement... A girl who deserved an ellipsis after her name. Because she was so much more than just McKenna.
McKenna shrugged and continued reading, “Your grandmother was a good friend and I will miss her dearly. This box contains some things I have been holding for her almost twelve years. Ms. Jasmine said you should be glad to have them. God be with you, McKendra-” McKenna gagged at the name, “Sincerely, Dorothy Fennewaite.”
“Oh, wow,” Patrick said, “I didn't know she was a Dorothy. Hey, I'm gonna take Kian to Avalon. I'll be right back.”
While he was gone, McKenna went ahead and dug into the box. Her mouth fell open at its contents. Her eyes watered and she found herself saying, “Oh my God, thank You.”
The large box held hundreds, no, thousands, of photographs. Photographs that would fill some blanks in McKenna's head. She could never have pictures of herself with her dad at the age of six or nine or thirteen, but she was grateful to have the first two years of her life and from here on.
In her hands, she held proof of her parents' love for her- and each other. She saw her curly, dark, mop-haired self sitting on Patrick's lap as he stared off into space. She saw herself in a bathing suit, walking on her father's toes. She saw pictures of her mother in the hospital. She saw pictures of her mother in her father's arms. She saw wedding photos. She saw her father holding her tiny and wrinkled, the same way he held Kian now.
“Daddy!” She shouted, forgetting that Avalon didn't like shouting from room to room. “Daddy, we got memories!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when they are empty.”

“No, I do not like cherry jolly ranchers,” McKenna muttered to herself, typing away on Avalon's old laptop. “I like the watermelon ones or the green apple.”
She looked up from the screen just in time to see one of her beloved photos fall off the wall. With a groan, McKenna rolled off her bed and snatched it from the floor. She had used the pictures Mrs. Fennewaite had sent, plus some pictures from Chantal, to cover the walls. Literally, they covered the walls, top to bottom. You only had to look through her door to meet her family, past and present.
Not wanting to make holes in the walls, McKenna had used poster putty instead of push pins. Looked like she needed a stronger adhesive, though, because every second something was falling down.
McKenna flopped back onto the bed. Before she had typed much more, a knock sounded on her door. “You don't have to knock if the door is open,” she said, eyes still on the computer.
“Just announcing my presence,” Patrick came in. He sat on the end of McKenna's bed. “What are you doing?”
“I'm on your website,” McKenna said, finally looking up.
  Patrick had created a My Family page on his web, where his fans could see pictures of them and read whatever he posted. Unsatisfied, a lot of people had expressed their desire to know more about McKenna. That's why Patrick made a Patrick&Princess page, where he told a compact version of their story and posted pictures and videos, such as him keeping his promise and cooking a not-quite-gourmet meal for McKenna, with her help.
Yet wanting more, the readers of Patrick's works said they wanted to meet McKenna, not McKenna through Patrick. Frustrated and vowing this was the last time he would indulge them, Patrick created a page called Just McKenna. She manned it, blogging, answering questions, and just being herself.
“They like you better than me,” Patrick grinned.
“They're pretty cool,” McKenna answered. “But some of them are really annoying. Like, this girl, elleCat27, she asks me stuff like 'What are you wearing right now?'” McKenna laughed. “So I said I'm in my dad's Garfield shirt and it's really huge on me.”
“Did you tell her they're your pajamas and you still haven't dressed for the day?”
“No,” McKenna rolled her eyes. “That's none of her business. But hey, I was reading some of your children's books. They're great.”
“Think so?” Patrick grabbed one of McKenna's pillows and propped it up behind him.
“Yeah,” McKenna sat, Indian style, with one knee up as a chin rest. That way her “daddy longlegs” would have more room. “I especially like Anya's Ankylosaurus. When did you write it?”
“I wrote it before Every Little Princess,” Patrick replied. “It's Lucas' favorite. You can probably tell from the dedication.”
“For my dino-man,” McKenna recalled. “I love that you have books for all of us. Well, except Kian.” She paused as a thought came to her. “If you write a new book, I can illustrate it!”
“That's a great idea,” Patrick agreed. “I saw the loads of artwork We Move brought down. Avalon was enamored with the watercolors and abstracts, but I thought your sketches were beautifully poignant.”
McKenna warmed at the praise. “Thanks,” she grinned and scratched at a mosquito bite.”
“What other questions do they ask?” Patrick questioned, changing the subject and nodding towards the computer.
“Uh...” McKenna scrolled up to her answered questions, “I blogged and said I finally finished my room, so I had to describe it to them down to the color of my bedside lamp. They wanted to know who I had in my pictures.” McKenna shook her head. “I was like, 'my grandma who went to heaven last month, my mom who died when I was a toddler, my dad who set up this page, my step-mom, my little brothers, my friends Tiara and Terilynn, my ex and his brother, my old neighbor and her son...'”
“Let me guess,” Patrick laughed. “They wanted to know why you had pictures of your ex on your wall.”
“That's what I thought,” McKenna said. “But they wanted to know how my step-mom feels about me displaying pictures of my mother.” She rolled her eyes three times in succession. “Isn't that a little too curious? Bordering on nosy.”
“They're interested,” Patrick replied. “What did you say?”
“Uh, that my step-mom is cool and understanding,” McKenna pushed the laptop towards Patrick. “You can read it yourself.”
“McKenna, did you see like a huge, colorful announcement on the main page?” He took the laptop and clicked Home. With a sigh, he showed McKenna the screen and watched her take in its meaning.
“You have a book signing tomorrow at 6?” McKenna said. “Our play starts at 5:30.”
“I got the dates mixed up,” Patrick said sheepishly. “I have to be in North Carolina tomorrow night; all these people are expecting me.”
“What about the play?” McKenna asked quietly.
“I wish I could be there to see you,” Patrick said wistfully. “And I'm nervous to send you on the plane alone, but I can't be in two places at once. I'm sorry, Princess.”
McKenna shrugged, willing herself not to cry. She was vastly disappointed. How could he have gotten those dates mixed up? She really wanted him to be there, to watch her become. She had never done anything this big in front of people and she wanted her father to see. To be proud of her.
“Need help packing or something?” Patrick gently closed the laptop. He hated seeing McKenna so forlorn and closed into herself. He hated knowing it was his fault. He hated being the bearer of bad news and the stealer of smiles.
“No, I'm done packing,” McKenna said. She had only packed a small bag. After all, she was only spending one night away from home.
“Want to go over your lines?” Patrick continued to nag her.
“Mr. Chad told me not to practice anymore until the rehearsal tonight,” McKenna said. “I'm not even allowed to use my Russian accent.”
“Alright,” Patrick stood and put McKenna's pillow back in its designated spot. “Come downstairs in a little while and eat something.”
“Okay.”
“You mad?”
“No,” McKenna sighed. She wasn't mad. Sad and disappointed? Yes. “You're just doing your job.”

“Bye baby,” McKenna kissed Kian's nose and placed him back in his chair. “Bye, Lukey.”
“Menna, don't go,” Lucas' eyes clouded over.
“I'm coming back tomorrow,” she told him. “You won't even miss me.”
“I miss you!” Lucas wailed, tears spilling over onto his cheeks.
“I'll be back before you can say 'Deinonychus, Carnotaurus, Apatosaurus, and Triceratops all in a mud pie.” She had been reading Dinosaur Fact Books to him before bed. “Bye, Av,” she gave her step-mother a hug and kiss.
“ Deinonychus, Carnotaurus, Apatosaurus, and Triceratops all in a mud pie,” Lucas said miserably.
The ride to the airport was quiet. Patrick was silent because he couldn't think of anything to say to his daughter. McKenna had ear buds in and thus was unable to hear anything anyway. She listened to G1C until they arrived.
“Are you ready for your debut tomorrow?” Patrick asked, walking with McKenna inside the terminal.
“I guess,” McKenna shrugged. “I'm really nervous. I'll probably forget all my lines. And I'm scared to take the plane alone.”
“You'll be fine,” Patrick said confidently. “You board, put on your seatbelt, and sit tight. Ms. Jasmine will pick you up from JFK and take you to the dress rehearsal at Bradford.”
“Okay,” McKenna said.
“And you'll do great tomorrow night,” he assured her. “I'm not even worried. You're a natural star.”
McKenna grinned. “Don't exaggerate.” She hugged her dad. “Love you.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“The key to being a good dad... well, sometimes things work out just the way you want. Sometimes they don't. But you gotta hang in there because when all is said and done, 90 percent of being a dad is just showing up.”

 

McKenna tied the babushka under her chin. She laced up her old, dusty boots. She pulled the burgundy, gingham dress over her head.
“I made this for you,” a little voice said.
“Kayden!” McKenna quickly turned and dropped the dress over her legs. “Who let you in here?”
“Jace did,” Kayden answered. “I made this for you, Akenna. Do you like it?”
With a smile, McKenna accepted the bouquet of tissue paper roses. “Yes, Kayden. It's so beautiful.” Each red, yellow, pink, or white rose was topped with a chocolate kiss and green lollipops were placed sporadically around the flowers to simulate blades of grass.
“Mommy helped me,” Kayden said. “I like that you stayed with us yesterday.”
“I like that, too,” McKenna wrapped him in a warm hug. “I miss you so much. Tell Mommy to bring you to Georgia to meet my brothers.”
“Okay,” Kayden said, pulling free and running off. “Break a leg!”
McKenna finished dressing, then joined the other cast members. The show would start in a few minutes.
“Okay, people!” Mr. Chad clapped his hands. “This is it! Master Nohls, take Miss Norah. You should be behind the first curtain, ready for it to open.” McKenna hid her smile at three year-old Norah Quinn being called a 'Miss.' “Miss Skye,” Mr. Chad turned to her. “Remember. Become.”
McKenna nodded and Mr. Chad ran off to do whatever it is that directors do five minutes before a production. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt and she heard it in her ears. Taking a deep calming breath, McKenna grasped her locket before slipping it in her high-necked (choking) dress, out of sight. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her cue.

 

“Can we all agree that our high-schoolers did a magnificent job?” Mr. Chad said into the microphone. He grinned as the crowd cheered again. “Thank you, thank you.”
“We did it,” McKenna whispered to Jace. They were standing in a long line of cast, all holding hands. Jace's hand was grossly sweaty, but McKenna was sure he was feeling the same way about hers.
“I'm glad it's over,” Jace whispered back.
“Me too.” It had been terrifying, performing so high up with so many eyes on her. But as she did what she knew to do, McKenna had forgotten anyone was even watching.
“When I first asked Miss Skye to play Anna in Oceans Across,” Mr. Chad was saying. McKenna quickly snapped to attention. Why was he saying her name to the entire auditorium? “She declined. She said 'Mr. Chad, I'm a behind-the-scenes kind of girl.'” The audience tittered. “And I told her 'Miss Skye, you are, but Anna is not.' And I think McKenna really became Anna tonight.”
“Yeah, Kenny!” Jace yelled into McKenna's ear as everyone applauded.
McKenna winced a little. “I wasn't sure Mr. Chad knew our first names,” she told him softly.
“Unfortunately,” Mr. Chad continued to McKenna's embarrassment, “this will be Miss Skye's last performance for Bradford High. Due to her move to Georgia, today is the last we will see of this budding actress. However, we hope she will shine brightly wherever she goes.”
“He uses so many unnecessary words,” McKenna said through clenched teeth. Budding actress?
“To end the night,” Mr. Chad kept talking after the audience's clapping, “and to say goodbye, I'd like 'Anna' to come forward and sing the closing song you just heard- this time without Uriel's help.”
“Kill me now,” McKenna muttered under her breath. She knew Jace heard her because of his snicker. Releasing his hand, she wiped her palm against her dress. She stepped up beside Mr. Chad and he gave her the mic.
“You're amazing, girl,” he spoke in her ear. “Go, get 'em.”
“Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears while we all sup sorrow with the poor,” McKenna sang into the mic. “There's a song that will linger forever in our ears...”

“Make sure you text me like every day,” Tiara hugged her friend hard.
“I will,” McKenna could feel the wetness of Tiara's tears on her shoulder. “And if I forget, text me. Or call.”
“I will,” Tiara cleared her throat. “I thought I would get to meet your dad's wife and the kids.”
“She wanted to come,” McKenna said. “The baby's still young and it didn't make sense to come down for such a short time. I think we're all gonna come for a few weeks next summer.”
“I'll be waiting,” Tiara said. “Speaking of waiting, my brother's outside.”
“Okay. Tell Tristan I said goodbye. And Kiani.” McKenna hugged Tiara a second time. “If you're ever in Atlanta...”
“Hey, Superstar,” Jordan muffled her face in his shirt.
“Why does every name you call me begin with an 's'?” McKenna moved her face so she could breathe.
“S is a cool letter,” Jordan said. “It stands for supreme, sophisticated, special, stupendous, and silly.” He let go of her and yanked her braid. “All the things you are.”
“Actually,” McKenna corrected, laughing. “I think the last one belongs to you.”
“I'm gonna miss you barging in my house, creating chaos that wasn't there before.”
“Hey!” McKenna protested.
“I'm just gonna miss you, period.”
“You can call or text,” McKenna said. “You can visit and I'm visiting next summer.” She stopped at the look on his face. “I know it isn't the same, but I'm trying not to think about it or I'll cry. Tell your dad I said goodbye.”
“Alright. I've got to get back to work,” Jordan hugged her. “You did great tonight. Call me if you need anything.”
“What if I need you to drive me to California?” McKenna grinned.
“Call me.” Jordan gave her a no nonsense look, then turned. “Now where is that Uriel...”
“Here.” Jace walked up behind them. Jordan left him to say goodbye and went to wait in his car. (No more truckin', truckin', truckin'.)
“I'm so glad to be out of that dress,” McKenna said. “I couldn't breathe for like ever. Thank God for normal clothes.”
“Yeah,” Jace said softly, his eyes on the ground.
“Look,” McKenna took his hand. “I can see all the things you want to say. Such as, 'we make a great team,' 'we go together,' or 'we belong with each other.'”
“How...”
“I know you,” McKenna said matter-of-factly, “really well. And I think you need to forget about me. It does no good to pine for somebody you can't have. Go play basketball or something,” she sighed. “Text me in a couple of weeks and tell me how you're doing.”
“Alright,” Jace said.
McKenna couldn't tell him that he had a spot in her heart. She couldn't tell him she had pictures of him on her bedroom wall. Anything she said, he would take to heart and think she was softening in her stand.
“I promised I'd say goodbye,” McKenna gave him a very quick hug. “So goodbye.”
She whirled around without waiting for a reply. She hurried off and banged right into Elliot Hughes.
“McKenna,” he looked at her.
“So sorry,” McKenna said, ready to hurry along.
“No problem,” he replied. “That play was lit. You're pretty cool.” McKenna didn't comment. “And I know we had some beef, but you know what? It's all good.”
Brooke Dennis came over and grabbed her boyfriend's hand. “I was supposed to be the star,” she said to McKenna with jealousy. “Come on, Elliot. Why are you even talking to her? Bree!”
McKenna wasn't fazed. She was only shell-shocked that Elliot had just apologized to her in the only way he probably ever would. It wasn't the usual “I'm sorry,” but it was good enough.
“I was about to brandish my knife,” a voice said behind her, “but I decided to let you handle it.”
McKenna turned, astounded. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? When did you come? I mean, you aren't supposed to be here. Aren't you supposed to be in North Carolina? Why did you come?”
Patrick laughed and hugged his daughter. “I came to see you perform. I changed my flight; the plane reached here at 5 and I took a taxi to the school.”
“So you saw the whole thing?” McKenna asked excitedly.
“Yup. And from the second you came onto the stage and said 'A bit of yarrow will cure her of that dreadful fever' to the second you finished your rendition of 'Hard Times Come Again No More,' you were amazing.”
“Thank you,” McKenna said modestly. “We sang the Lennon and Maisy version at the end of the play, but the one I sang alone was the original.”
“I know,” Patrick said. “Stephen Foster. 1854.”
“Yeah,” McKenna grinned. She slipped her arm through her dad's.
“Did you say goodbye to everyone?” Patrick asked. “We have to leave for the airport.”
“I just need to get my things from backstage,” McKenna said. “After this, can I not ride a plane for at least six months?”
McKenna and her dad headed to the curb to wait for the taxi. People who they passed congratulated McKenna and said goodbye. She didn't feel as sad about leaving as she had expected. Probably because two weeks had gotten her used to living elsewhere.
“So what happened with your book signing?” McKenna asked.
“I postponed it until next week,” Patrick answered. “I'm sure my readers were disappointed, but hopefully they'll understand. I told them I had to be here for you.”
“What changed?” McKenna was a little confused. “Yesterday you said you had to go because all these people were expecting you.”
“I know that's what I said,” Patrick said. “But something you said changed my mind. You said you weren't upset because I was just doing my job. That thought plagued me all night, Princess. Writing is my job, but you are my first job. And I want to make sure I'm doing it right.”
McKenna smiled. “I'm so glad you came.”
“I'm proud of you.”
“Hey, do you think we can get some ice-cream? Pete is one person I didn't say goodbye to.”
Patrick looked at his watch. “We have to be quick or we'll miss our flight.”
“Okay, come on!” McKenna took off down the street. She was so encumbered by bags that Patrick overtook her in only a few, short strides.

“Vanilla ice-cream with six green skittles on the first scoop, six purple skittles on the second, and an orange gummy bear on top?” Pete asked when McKenna walked into his shop.
“This is my dad, Patrick,” McKenna said. “I'm sure I didn't introduce him the last time we came in here.”
“Hello there,” Pete shook Patrick's hand. “I was wondering who you were when I saw you with Ken the other day.”
“I'm moving to Georgia,” McKenna told Pete. “With my dad. So I won't be seeing you anymore. And you won't have to make any more ice-cream cones with six green skittles on the first scoop, six purple skittles on the second, and an orange gummy bear on top.”
“Those were the most fun to make,” Pete came around the counter and hugged her. “I'm sure gonna miss seeing your pretty smile.”
“Thanks,” McKenna grinned. “I'll miss you too.”
“It's time to get going,” Patrick said gently.
“I can't miss my flight,” McKenna explained to Pete. “You want some ice-cream, Dad?”
“I'll take a caramel fudge cone,” Patrick said. “How much will that be?”
“Not a penny,” Pete handed Patrick his ice-cream. “It's on the house.” He gave McKenna her cone. “This one's yours, Ken.”
McKenna took her ice-cream. It was the perfect way to say goodbye to her old life and enter the new. Six green skittles on the first scoop, six purple skittles on the second, and an orange gummy bear on the top.

 

Through Our Eyes

Through our eyes we can't understand
When life doesn't go as planned
But when through His eyes we see
Everything was meant to be

What to us seems like a tragedy
To Him is no catastrophe
He surely holds a plan in mind
He will reveal within His time

Our darkest days and fearful nights
Will prepare us for His light
There is a blessing in our tears
A purpose for our great despair

What seems as bad can turn to good
Our sorrow then misunderstood
Will give way to the master plan
A blueprint in His loving hand

Though human eyes may never see
Our Savior loves eternally
He never works to cause us pain
But to His glory bring great gain