But my wishful thinking is cut short on the way back to the car.
A familiar Camaro has pulled up right behind it.
I spot Tasha’s car at the exact moment Abby does, and instead of her leaping out to go see her best friend, I notice her eyes shift to mine.
A “what now?” look if ever I’ve seen one in her eyes.
But I think we’re both sporting a matching pair, and for the first time in my life, I’m actually not so glad to see my daughter.
As much as I hate to say it, it’s true. But only because of right now, this moment. Any other time I could handle.
But not now.
Not here.
“Tasha,” I call out, watching her as she notices Abby in the front of my car, her face set.
She looks just like her mom when she’s angry.
Pity. Of all the things she had to inherit from her mothers' side.
I walk up to her side of the car, but she won’t even look at me. Her window is down so I ask her where she’s been.
“We’ve been worried about you. Where’d you go, Tasha?” I ask, trying not to sound like her dad but more like a friend.
“I’ve just been driving,” she finally says, deadpan.
“You drove all the way out here with Abby to look for me?” she asks.
“You wouldn’t answer our calls. Just took off last night, Tasha,” I counter, sounding firm.
Feeling the dad in me welling up. I can’t help it.
“What do you care?” she says hotly, and I feel a pain in my chest.
Not from what she’s saying, but how she’s saying it.
My baby girl is turning on me.
Turning to look up at me, her eyes rest on the oversized hot dogs in my hands. The wieners sticking out a good four inches on either end.
“You think I’m stupid, don’t you? You’re pathetic, you know that? The pair of you… Fucking pathetic,” she spits and then rolls up her window.
I wince when I hear her grind the gearbox into reverse, and I can almost count the dollars’ worth of rubber she leaves behind as she peels out.
The air is heavy with the smell of gas, burnt rubber, and disappointment.
The pain in my chest shifts down to my gut.
Changing from hurt to worry.
Nobody should drive like that, especially if they’re upset like I know she must be.
Abby was right.
She knows.
Tasha knows, and soon enough everyone in town will know. But will I still have a daughter once I claim Abby?
When I claim her as my woman, leaving the girl in her far behind.
A part of me wishes I knew, but another part of me doesn’t want to know because I know what I’m prepared to risk to have Abby.
Everything.
“That went well,” Abby sighs as I slide into the driver’s side of my car.
Her eyes widen when she sees the hot dogs I’ve bought for us, making both of us laugh a little despite the episode with Tasha just now.
“You trying to tell me something?” Abby asks, a wistful look in her eyes as they meet mine.
“Tasha will settle down,” I try to console us both. But if I know Tasha, it’ll be like waiting for the sun to stop burning.
She’s normally easygoing, but once she gets going with anger, it’s hard to cool her down.
At least that shit stain Brad wasn’t with her. That’d be the end of my rope.
“I don’t care if she doesn’t,” Abby says defiantly, reaching hungrily for her hot dog with both hands, making me take a sharp breath in as I watch her little mouth stretch over all she can take in one bite.
I open my mouth to say something else. To let Abby know I love my daughter as much as I love her, just in a different way of course.
The intensity’s the same. But a father’s love and protectiveness of his daughter?
Maybe it’s something Abby will understand when she has children of her own.
Our children.
For now, all I can do is be prepared to turn the other cheek when it comes time for Tasha’s wrath against me.
I’ll always be her dad and I’ll always be here for her, no matter what.
But my happiness is important too and that’s Abby. Our future together means everything to me.
A blast from a horn behind us breaks my train of thought, and I ignore my instinct to get out and have a quiet word with whoever's behind us.
It’s not worth it.
With Abby here, and our special day ahead of us I don’t want anything else to cloud it.
I move to the parking bay and we eat our lunch in silence. I watch fascinated as Abby devours her hot dog with just the tail end of her dog left.
“I really can’t take anymore, Slade,” she says with a straight face. Holding it in until I start to laugh and she laughs even louder once I pop the butt end of her lunch into my mouth.