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“What do you need?”

This was how her dad always answered the phone when Tressa Fay called him. It no longer hurt her feelings that he assumed that if his child called him, it was to saw off another branch of his giving tree, but it did annoy her.

“And how are you, Dad?”

“I just got home from work.”

“So did I! I would say this was a coincidence, except that I know better than to call you at work unless I’m dying, and I’m too busy at my work to sit down and take the time to have one of our famous gabfests.” As she talked, she fixed Epinephrine’s dinner and got a mini pizza from the freezer to microwave.

“Tressa Fay, I’d like to get supper started.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” If he wanted her to cut to the chase, then she absolutely would.

She’d decided on this approach to try to make sense of Meryl, Gayle, and Linds’s outrageous conversation with her over coffee yesterday morning. No matter how much she reminded herself of the existence of the texts and photos she’d seen on Meryl’s phone, Tressa Fay hadn’t really been able to believe in them, not inside her body. But if there was anyone on the planet who she believed was real, solid, and unshakable, it was her dad.

There was a long, long pause, which was an answer in itself, giving Tressa Fay cold goose bumps all over.

They weren’t bad goose bumps. Which was interesting. Her dad’s failure to confirm or deny the existence of this girlfriend felt more like the answer to a prayer than the outcome of an experiment.

“Where did you hear that?” he asked.

“A friend. You gave me Mom’s stuff. Does it matter? I’m your daughter, and unless you’re dating in a nonexclusive manner, then it would be nice to know about someone new who’s important in your life. Of course, she may not be new, but my interest still stands.”

“I don’t date.”

“You’ve said before.”

He huffed out a sigh. “Her name’s Jen Sluslarski. Met her at my church group.”

Jen Sluslarski was the name Meryl had given her. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Long enough.”

“For what, to trust each other in an apocalypse? To get matching tattoos? Maybe you’ve started a couples’ board game night?”

“We’ve had a few counseling sessions with Father Cohagan.”

He meant premarital counseling, a concept that she was sure was actually anathema to her dad, but it meant he must have either revealed or confessed this relationship to his priest, who would have suggested something like these sessions, and her dad always did what Father told him to do. Doing what your priest told you to do was as foregone a conclusion as aerating the lawn. One did not have to like it for it to be necessary to prevent actual moral entropy, in either the Lord’s eyes or those of your Green Bay neighborhood.

“It’s serious, then.”

“She’s a nice woman.”

This meant that, first of all, he would never be interested in anyone but a nice woman, and second, a nice woman wouldn’t be interested in anything but something serious.

“I see.”

“Is that all?”

“No. Let’s eat together.” Tressa Fay would never know what took over her body and made her say this, but once she had, she realized that she wouldn’t back down until her dad said yes.

“You mean tonight?” The incredulity in his voice would be insulting if she hadn’t known this man from her literal birth.

“Yeah. We could meet at the diner.” She wasn’t going to push it by suggesting sushi.

“Why?”

“Neither of us has eaten. It’s dinnertime. You’re my closest living relative.”

“Do you need money?”

Tressa Fay closed her eyes and ran her hand over Epinephrine’s soft fur until he purred. She kept her breathing even. “No, Dad. I don’t need money. I’d just like to share a meal with you.”

“We usually go on the nights they have the meatloaf special. They won’t have that.”

“Their hamburgers are delicious.”

Another long, rough sigh. “I’ll see you in ten.”

Then he hung up.

Tressa Fay put her mini pizza back in the freezer and sprinted to her car, operating on pure intuition.

She pulled up to the diner at the same time as her dad, and when he got out of his truck, he was still in his work clothes. He locked the truck up carefully and looked her over in her bright green canvas romper.

“Well, come on, then. Already we’re going to have to wait for a table.”

Tressa Fay reminded herself that her dad’s agreeing to meet her here spontaneously on a non-meatloaf night was the equivalent of another father gripping their daughter in a long bear hug and presenting them with a car wrapped with one of those enormous bows.

Thankfully, there was a booth available in the same row of booths her dad preferred, and the server was an experienced older woman who did not harass him with any small talk or smile at him. He did order a hamburger, but he substituted a house salad for the fries. Her dad did not believe in any food that he considered “empty calories,” although he would drink a Coke once a year to break Lent.

Tressa Fay ordered chili cheese fries. “I can’t wait to meet Jen.”

“She said she’d make dinner at my house tomorrow night, and you should come. Spaghetti.”

“You called her before you left?” As far as Tressa Fay knew, her dad called only the numbers written on a yellowed pad, stapled to a wooden board with an apple on it, kept by the phone.

He nodded. “Seeing as you’re so interested .” He cracked a small smile.

Whoa.

Her dad had made a joke. A joke-ish. He seemed pretty relaxed. He hadn’t complained about the lack of meatloaf. Also, he’d ordered coffee after four in the afternoon, which was tantamount to skipping mass. Maybe he was glad to spend time with her.

Maybe Tressa Fay should have done something like this before.

Maybe the reason they only saw each other on diner nights and for his trim was because he thought that was the entirety of what she wanted.

Maybe. “Tell me about her.”

“Jen?”

“Yes, Jen.”

“I’ll let her tell you herself tomorrow night if you’re coming.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming.” She watched her dad take a drink of coffee as he looked out the window. He was more relaxed than usual. “So, Dad?”

“Yep.”

“Why now?”

The advantage to having a father who spoke like he’d been given a quota of words he could say aloud for the year was that he was a man who excelled at both context and subtext, saving his conversation partner from having to come up with words themself. It was helpful at times like this, when her two-word question encompassed the whole of their lives together without Shelly Robeson.

“I noticed her.” Her dad put down his coffee and leaned back.

“And you hadn’t noticed anyone else? In all these years?”

He shook his head.

Tressa Fay had to look out the window herself in order to focus on fighting back the burn at the inner corners of her eyes that wanted her to let go and cry. “Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Yep.”

That was when Tressa Fay told the single most unlikely person on Earth about what Meryl and Linds and Gayle had explained to her—about how she’d found out he was dating someone, and how, when he told her in the future, his first words to her about it would be that he was engaged. She’d taken pictures of the conversations on Meryl’s phone, which she pulled up to show him, but he only glanced at them briefly. The rest of the time, he kept his attention on Tressa Fay and didn’t interrupt her, not even to say thank you to the server when she brought their dinner. Something he never failed to do.

When she was finished, he picked up the napkin on his lap and wiped his mouth and hands. “I had planned on asking Jen to marry me in the fall sometime, after our counseling sessions were finished. As a matter of fact.”

Tressa Fay felt her middle go light. What he meant was I believe you .

She did cry then, and even more surprising was that her dad’s eyes were shiny, too.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m thinking about what I’m like in the world where she got to stay with me.” His voice was thick. “Somewhere. And what you’re like with the mom you got to have. Somewhere.”

Tressa Fay gave a watery laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. God is good. You’ve given me a great comfort that I never thought I would have the chance to feel. Thank you.”

“Dad.” Tressa Fay blew her nose on her napkin. “You’re killing me.”

He shrugged. “Did you want to get pie?”

He never ordered pie. “Yes, Dad. I would love to get pie. Let’s do that.”

Neither one of them said much for the rest of their dinner, and Tressa Fay felt restless, but she couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t until she was back in the parking lot, waving good night to her dad, the evening cool and breezy and full of the pink light of mid-May, that she realized.

She didn’t want to wait anymore. She wanted to be kissed.

Tressa Fay pulled out her phone to text Meryl, and then she stopped. Meryl could receive her texts—at least, as far as she knew—but only October Tressa Fay could get Meryl’s.

I don’t know where you are, if you’re at work or at home , she texted, but could you meet me at canyon tacos? I’ve already eaten, but I’ll wait at the bar. I’ll get limeades like you told me you did.

She had a hard time finding a place to park, because it was so busy, the front windows open to the nice evening. When she went in, a young woman with long, big, riotous hair styled so she looked like she was mostly eyes walked up to her. “Good evening! I’m Katie. Can I put you in line for a table?”

Tressa Fay stepped more fully into the entry, where it was much lighter from the open windows at the front, and Katie broke out in a grin. “Hey! Tressa Fay!”

“Katie!” Tressa Fay looked a little past Katie’s head and saw that there were still spots at the bar. “You look amazing. Like you’ve made friends with your haircut.” With your whole self , Tressa Fay thought.

Katie looked down and then back up, and she was fully blushing. “I was more ready than I thought.”

Knowing that Katie’s hair was helping her cope with her feelings about her skin made Tressa Fay suddenly grateful for literally everything she had ever gone through in her entire life. “Your hair was inspiring,” she said. “And don’t be afraid to keep your appointment to check in.”

“Thank you. I will.” Katie smiled. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Come see me, okay?”

She nodded, looking around the busy restaurant. “I’m going to find you a table.”

“Actually, I want to sit at the bar. I told someone to meet me there. Her name’s Meryl, and she has long red hair.”

“Oh! Hey! She came in like a week ago or so. Maybe longer? And was waiting for you! I remember now. You guys missed each other.”

Tressa Fay took a deep breath. “You could say that.”

“We’ll make sure it happens tonight. Follow me.”

She followed Katie, who set her up on a stool and pulled a paper Reserved tent off her clipboard. Katie set it down on the stool next to Tressa Fay. “There you go. I’ll watch for her.”

“Thank you! You’re amazing.”

Katie made her way back through the crowd. The bartender approached, and Tressa Fay asked for a mini pitcher of limeades.

A few minutes after the bartender set the pitcher and two glasses down, Meryl stepped between two tall guys who had been talking near Tressa Fay’s barstool. She wore cropped deep red tailored pants and a summery, floaty confection of a top with heels. She had come from work, or she hadn’t changed, and as soon as Tressa Fay saw her, she could smell cold creek water and see the river from the bench and feel Meryl’s soapy hair through her fingers.

“Hi.” Meryl smiled. “The hostess was so glad to see me.”

“ I’m so glad to see you. You got my bat signal.”

“I did. I was leaving work, so I came right here.”

“I got limeade.” Tressa Fay leaned back so Meryl could see the pitcher. “Only, now that I see you, I can’t imagine sitting at this bar and drinking limeade. But also, if you just came from work, you’re probably hungry.”

“I ordered in to my desk over an hour ago.” Meryl put her purse on the stool, knocking over the paperboard tent Katie had put there, and leaned against Tressa Fay’s knees. She had on mascara. Her lips were glossy. Her hair was pulled back at her nape with a big, fancy barrette.

Tressa Fay loved Work Meryl.

“I’m sorry, but we have to leave,” Tressa Fay said. “This isn’t where I want you to kiss me for the first time.”

Meryl smiled. “No?”

“No.”

“Where, then?” She put her hands on Tressa Fay’s bare knees.

“I don’t care. Where it’s just us.”

Meryl looked at her for a long moment, her lips pursed as though she might smile, her pretty eyes big behind her glasses, the same softness in her expression that she’d had when she gazed at Tressa Fay at the creek. “You’re incredible,” she said. “In case no one has told you recently. In case I haven’t told you.” She smiled. “You’re absolutely my favorite person in the world right now, you know that?”

Tressa Fay’s smile made her cheeks hurt, it was so big. “Take me somewhere good.”

Meryl grabbed Tressa Fay’s hand and pulled her down from the barstool. They laced their fingers together and arrowed their way through the crowd. All Tressa Fay could think was Meryl Whit is going to kiss me .

When they got outside, Meryl walked them against the headwind from the river, and they made their way to a wide, grassy bank and then a huge granite stone, as big as a garden shed, near the trail along the river. It was a spot far from any business, on a narrow part of the trail, so even on a pretty May evening, there wasn’t anyone around except a pelican fishing in the tall grass near the water.

Meryl crowded Tressa Fay until her back was against the warm granite, reaching up to hold her face in her hands. Pieces of Meryl’s hair had come loose from her barrette and were blowing sideways. The wind had found the ruffles of her shirt, too, moving them against her skin, brushing them against Tressa Fay’s arms when she put her hands at Meryl’s waist.

“Are you sure you’ve waited as long as you want to?” Meryl’s body had moved fully against hers, and Tressa Fay had to close her eyes to absorb the pressure, the reality of Meryl right here with her.

Summoned.

Tressa Fay had summoned her, and she’d come. She’d summoned this moment, and now it was here, yet it still had the delicious unreality of the pause before every first kiss Tressa Fay could remember, the moment when neither person knew with absolute certainty that this was going to happen.

And now—now that she’d talked to Meryl and Linds and Gayle about time, now that she knew about one possible future and the infinity of futures, now that she’d had dinner with her dad on a weeknight that wasn’t Wednesday without any kind of plan and talked to him about his girlfriend and her mom and he’d acknowledged his loss in a way he never, ever had before— now Tressa Fay thought that maybe this moment felt so big, so impossibly important, because it was one of those moments that split the world in two.

One that changed everything.

The wind made her feel like a creature of reckless excitement, and she squeezed Meryl’s waist hard. “Do it!” she shouted, smiling. When Meryl moved closer, her lips a breath away, Tressa Fay said it again. “I want you to do it. I want you to.”

And then Meryl was kissing her.

Meryl’s glossy, sticky lips dragged over Tressa Fay’s. She could feel her smile, and she wanted to taste it, so she put her tongue against Meryl’s lush upper lip, her teeth, and Meryl’s grip shifted just enough that Tressa Fay could feel the small movement landing in her body as an intensification of desire. She loved this. She loved kissing. She loved the way kissing Meryl started as mouths, hands, bodies, tongues, the shocking experience of closeness, of contact , and turned up Tressa Fay’s desire until the kissing became desire, feeding it and stoking it, taking over so she didn’t want Meryl because she was kissing her—she had to kiss her because she wanted her.

She slid her hands up Meryl’s sides, delighted with her warm skin under her Work Meryl blouse, with the way Meryl’s fingers had shifted from caressing to gripping her face, guiding the angle at which their mouths met. Meryl’s bossy kissing made Tressa Fay go shuddery and urgent at the same time, made her think about Meryl over her, holding her where she wanted her, losing every possible inhibition.

“Hmm,” Meryl hummed into Tressa Fay’s mouth. “Tell me how it is that this is so good.”

“Or you could kiss my neck.”

Meryl laughed, and her mouth trailed over Tressa Fay’s jaw, licked her earlobe, making Tressa Fay go boneless against the granite while Meryl cupped her head in one hand, rubbed the thumb of the other over the tender side of Tressa Fay’s breast, and worked on finding all the places that made her make a noise.

“Come back,” she whispered, and Meryl’s mouth met hers again. They kissed slow, kissed short kisses, one after the other, until they were just breathing, the wind in their hair, their hearts racing.

“So,” Tressa Fay said after a few long moments, “thanks for meeting me.”

Meryl laughed. “I’ll meet you wherever you want me to, whenever.”

“Let’s keep doing this , though.” For the first time, her heart squeezed painfully. “Until we’re kissing in the snow.”

Meryl put her head on Tressa Fay’s shoulder, and they watched the pelican fly away.