Page 59 of Small Town, Big Storm

Groaning—and knowing there’s no point in trying to go back to dreamland through the incessant tapping—I get out of bed and hit the shower.

As it’s warming (and taking a long fucking time to do so because even though we’ve fixed the burst pipe, we—okay,I—still need to buy a new water heater), I decide that since I’m up, I should be torturing my teammates too.

STORM: What are you all doing on August 10th, assholes?

There’s a long pause before the replies start coming—slow at first then with more rapid frequency.

ACE: Do you know what time it is, asshat?

SHEP: Are you like the one person in the world who doesn’t have your phone on DND?

ACE: I don’t play Dungeons & Dragons, motherfucker.

SHEP: DND means do not disturb, asshole.

ACE: No.Apparently I AM the one person who doesn’t have my phone on DND.Because I forgot that was a thing.

SHEP: World class athlete.Married to a kickass chick.Doesn’t know how to work a cell phone properly.What the fuck does Vi see in you?

CLARKE: What do you want us to be doing, Stormy?

STORM: For you to never use that nickname again.

CLARKE: Now you’ve gone and dared me.

STORM: Really, Superman?

CLARKE: You’re an asshole…Stormy.Now, spill.What’s happening in August that has you texting the group chain at seven in the fucking morning?

STORM: A charity hockey game.

GRIFFIN: For the Hawks?

STORM: No.

ACE: Then what?

I hesitate, wondering why the fuck I’m doing this.

I don’t want them here.God knows, I don’t want to open this part of my life up to further inspection.

I start to set my phone down, to leave the conversation there.

But then I think of Holly’s face.

Think about her excitement for the programs at the Pioneer Museum, the adorable way she struggled through the phrasegoose deterrents.I think of the field trips I took there in elementary school and how cool they were when I was her age.And…I think of the worry in Poppy’s eyes.

The real concern the museum may not be able to continue to provide for the kids in the community.

And, fuck me, but I think of Holly running toward Rain.

The connection they’ve clearly built over the last year.

A connection I don’t have—won’t have anytime soon.

Because she’s my daughter, but she doesn’t know it yet.

Poppy and I have agreed to take it slow, to let Holly get to know me before we dropped the bomb of me being her dad on her.