His guffaw is too self-satisfied. “Plus,” he says, face softening like ice cream on the boardwalk. “I like to think that your mom would love it if you lost her onThe Adventureverse. Don’t you?”
Would you like that, Mom?I ask silently, opening my hand and gazing down at the world. Using my thumb, I send it spinning again. I don’t need an answer from her, though. I already know. “Yeah, I guess she would, huh?”
Nodding, he says, “When your mom and I were in high school, she visited Brazil. Did I ever tell you this?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, so she went to Brazil. Over the summer, I think. And she came back with this”—he encircles one wrist with the other hand—“this bracelet. I forget what she called it, but it was just a ribbon with something written on it. She brought a few home for our friends, and as she tied them on our wrists, she told us to make a wish. She said that when the bracelet fell off, that wish would come true.”
“When did yours fall off?”
“Oh, I have no idea.” His head tilts. “I just looked up one day and it was gone. Your mom was so excited.”
“But did your wish come true?” I ask, enthralled.
He smiles, his eyes distant, somewhere in the past. “Of course. I had her.” Then he returns to his body and smiles at me, too. “And I have you. So, maybe when the necklace falls off, your wish will come true, too.”
“Dad,” I whine, slapping the table. “Don’t make me cry right before I leave! Not allowed!”
He walks over, leaning down to give me a hug. “Sorry, kiddo. You know I can’t help it. I’m a crier.”
“I know,” I say into his shirt. It smells like laundry detergent. “The car will be here any minute.” My words are muffled by the fabric.
“I know,” he echoes, planting a kiss on the crown of my head and resting his chin there. Pulling back, he says, “You should probably get dressed.”
My mouth drops open. I look down at my outfit, a blue tank top under a blue windbreaker and lightweight blue joggers. “Did you think I was just wearing this to breakfast for fun?”
His face lights up. “But look, you stopped crying.”
The doorbell rings and I feel my heart jump straight into my throat. Crying would actually be better right now. We walk into the living room together, stopping where my bag rests on the couch.
“I’ll get the door. You make sure you have everything.”
“No,” I say quickly. I know if I take everything out to look through it again, I’m bound to forget to repack something. The perfect weight of the bag settles against me as I sling one of the straps over my right shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“Oh, okay.” He looks unsure.Same, Dad.“You and Yumi have each other’s backs out there, all right?”
“We will.”
“You’re gonna crush it, honey. And tell that smarmy host man that if he lets anything bad happen, I’m coming after him.”
I pull him into another hug. “I’m not telling him that.”
“That’s probably for the best,” he says, smoothing my hair. “Love you, Noe.”
“Love you, Dad.”
“Be good?”
“I will.”
Dad trails me to the door. “Come home safe to me.”
“Always,” I promise, grabbing the knob and starting to turn it.
He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Gently, he plucks the pendant of the necklace off my shirt and leans down to press his forehead to it. In a whisper, he says, “Elena, you take care of our girl, hear me?”
And I swear there’s a veil between universes that lifts at that moment. When my dad hugs me goodbye, I feel my mom in it, too.
