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Calling her dad was mostly a reflex. A thing she did when the stress got to her. It was only as the call rang through her phone that she wondered how his new, loosened disposition would affect this dynamic of theirs.

“Hi, Molly,” her dad answered on the fourth ring. “Sorry, I can’t chat for long. Terry and I are heading to a comedy show in a few minutes.”

“A comedy show?” Molly’s stress nearly dissipated from surprise alone. He was more of an air show kind of man. Plane formations with a side of flight history.

“Yeah, Terry’s brother is getting into stand up. He’s not very funny, but I’m trying to be supportive . . .” As he trailed off, his chuckle sounded so relaxed that the tension in Molly’s shoulders began to melt.

She smiled, slumping to let her head rest in her arms.

“I just . . . thought I’d call. Well, I wanted to call. It was a long day at work. Did you know I own an actual business? With profits and losses and a laundry list of maintenance issues?”

“I did know. And I hear you’re very good at it.”

A pulse of anxiety spiked behind Molly’s breastbone. “I don’t feel good at it. You should have seen me trying to make sense of all the terms getting thrown at me today. You wouldn’t think a bookstore would have that much jargon. I’m going to need flash cards.”

Some of the background noise that must have been her dad getting himself ready to leave quieted. “Oh, honey,” he said. “I haven’t had one of these calls in a while.”

Molly’s throat tightened at the hint of melancholy peeking through in his voice.

“You haven’t?”

“I passed that torch to Aster a few years back,” he said. “But it’s nice to have another stab at it. Don’t worry about the work too much, Molly. You’ll get the hang of it again. Give it some time. Your friends will help you.”

Her stomach gurgled, part discomfort, part hunger. “Don’t worry? You don’t have any time management strategies for me? Who are you and what have you done with Richard Graham?”

It was mostly a joke, but it was wrapped around a kernel of genuine inquiry. Who was he, really, if he wasn’t reminding her that the work was worth it, that her dedication was her best quality, that she always had a little more to give?

A few months into this new version of her life and she still hadn’t fully processed this version of him.

He let out a good-natured laugh. “Well, Molly, it turns out you’re plenty good at motivating yourself and don’t need my help with it.”

Molly sank further against her arms, practically melted into her desk by exhaustion and her dad’s startling frankness. “I take it we had that chat sometime in the last six years?”

“We did. You said it was one we’d needed to have for a while.” There was a gruffness to his tone that hit straight at Molly’s heartstrings. “I appreciate it, you know. That you cared enough to say something to me, no matter how long it took, so that I had the chance to be the dad you needed me to be. And that’s not a chat we’ve had in the last six years. That’s something Terry’s been saying I ought to share with you, and she’s usually right about these things.”

Swallowing over a sudden lump in her throat, Molly managed a weak, “Thanks, Dad. This really helped.”

“I’m glad, honey. Now—uh, I do have to go. Gotta pretend to laugh at some jokes.”

“Have fun.”

“I’ll try.” His tone didn’t convey especially high hopes. “Love you, kid.”

When they hung up, Molly stayed resting, pondering the quiet joy it was to have her dad willing to show up for her how she needed him to.

“It’s been a while since I’ve found you sleeping at your desk.”

Molly’s head shot up, neck stiff. Though the overhead fluorescents hadn’t wavered, there was something about the light drifting in through the doorway that spoke to a long-set sun, to a passage of time.

Aster stood in that doorway looking amused and holding a bag of something that smelled delicious.

“I got you some curry from that Thai place we went to,” he said, gesturing with the bag in his hand. “And a sandwich from the place down the street for me.”

“Thank you. Wow, I’m starving.” Her stomach rumbled right on cue.

Aster settled into the chair across from her as Molly cleared the desk in record time.

“I’d love to take full credit for this thoughtfulness—which, I am very thoughtful, by the way—”