Page 62 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“I have a feeling you do better under pressure! Go on. Show me what you’ve got.”

“See that tree out there?” She points to a tree straight down the field. “It’s mine.” She winds up and lets the Frisbee fly. It sails straight toward the tree. Barney barrels after it, and Ellie squeals, jumping up and down like she’s won the Olympics.

“Attagirl!” I cheer.

She runs toward me, hollering, “I did i—” Her foot slips on the grass, and she goes down with a yelp.

“Ellie!” I run to her, my heart lurching.

She rolls onto her back, cracking up, as I reach her. Barney blows past me and pounces on her, his tail thrashing as he licks her face. Ellie laughs hysterically, trying to fend off his sloppy kisses.

“He likes to kiss you as much as I do,” I say, offering her a hand.

She grabs my hand and yanks me down with them. I land half on her, half off, both of us cracking up. Barney circles us, barking like it’s the best day of his life, before piling on, tail whipping, tongue licking. Ellie curls against me, using me as her shield, which only makes us laugh harder.

“A’right, buddy, settle down,” I manage. Barney flops into the grass beside us, panting happily.

Ellie lifts her face from the safety of her human cocoon, her eyes bright, her smile even brighter. “Am I safe from the furriest licker?”

“You mean the best wingman ever? He pounces, and I reap the benefits.” I ruffle Barney’s fur. “Good boy.”

“Suddenly I feel outnumbered.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart. If this is what a furry friend gets me, I’m stacking the deck in my favor from now on.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Taylor

After our whirlwind morning, my nerves prickle when we arrive at my father’s house. Even Barney’s excitement and Seth’s hand on my back as we climb the porch steps aren’t helping to settle them.

“Last chance to save yourself,” I offer. “You can take the car and go get coffee, or hit the bookstore while I visit with him.”

“Give it up, El. I’m not going anywhere.”

Loving his determination but equally frustrated by it, I say, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” and pray for the best.

I open the door, and Barney bounds in, making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Dad?” I call out, following Barney. My father is lying on his back beneath the sink. His toolbox is on the floor, a few tools scattered around it. The Tupperware cabinet is open, the tops and containers no longer neatly organized, and there’s a piece of new PVC pipe on the counter. Something clunks, and my father curses.

Barney pushes his nose beneath the sink.

“What the…Get outta here,” my father snaps. He pushes out from under the sink, glowering at me. His hair is sticking up in messy tufts, there are dark crescents beneath his eyes, and he’s holding a wrench.

“Barney, come here,” I say, noticing a faint tremor in my father’s hand. Barney stays put, wagging his tail, waiting for a proper greeting from his grouchy friend.

“What’s the nuisance doing in my house?” my father gripes.

“Spreading joy and dog hair,” I say. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

He eyes Barney. “You’d better not shed.” Barney licks his face, and my father grumbles but pets him.

“Looks like he’s happy to see you,” Seth offers.

My father looks at him sharply, as if he’s noticing him for the first time. “Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry,” I say quickly, “Dad, this is Seth Braden.”