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“Permission to enter?” he asks.

shrug, wiping my eyes and scooting over quickly

as he crawls awkwardly into the tiny room, tucking his

knees up against his chin.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he jokes,

looking around at the layers of dust and cobwebs.

smile despite myself. He looks ridiculous—like

giant folded into nutshell.

“Well

never!” He gasps, his eyes falling on the

teddy bear. “Mr. Brown! How are you, old fella?” He

fondles the bear’s ears affectionately. “I thought we’d lost

him years ago—never dared mention it to you because

one time when you lost him for just

day you were

inconsolable. Even ice cream for breakfast, lunch and

di

yourself headache. Just as well, really—it was only when

went to get some painkillers that found him, hidden in

the medicine chest!” He laughs.

“I’ll never forget the look on your face when

brought him riding into your bedroom on my shoulders.

You looked at me like

was your hero, like

could fix

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anything.” He smiles wistfully. “I loved that. You’d come to

me with your cuts and scrapes and nightmares and I’d kiss

them all better, solve everything with wave of my magic

wand. It was the best feeling in the world.” He beams at

me for moment; then his face clouds over.

“I’m sorry

can’t fix this, Holly-berry.” He sighs

heavily. “I’d give anything, you know, do anything to

change things—to swap places …”

look at him. For the first time in my life he looks

old.

“You lost your magic wand?” joke, my voice light.

He smiles sadly. “Yes, yes, suppose have.”

stare at the floor, at the knotted wood swirling and

splintering beneath us, yet somehow still managing to

hold us up, at least for now.

“But still have some magical powers.”

“Oh, yeah?” raise an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. My shoulders are actually super-spongy-

sturdy stress supporters, plus

have super-sensitive-

sympathetic listening skills.”

“Bonus.” grin, and he smiles.

“So

you and Josh …”

shrug. “Didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry,” Dad says sincerely. “What happened?”

“It just

didn’t work out,” repeat quietly.

“Right.” He nods. “Only hope it wasn’t to do with

Hunt—”

“It’s for the best,” interrupt quickly.

413

“Right.” Dad nods, and we both stare at the floor.

“You know,

do also have super-sonic-shutting-up

powers …,” he says gently. “On occasion …”

grin despite myself. “Rarely used.”

“Rarely used,” he admits, smiling.

sniff. “How about super-human-hugging powers?”

“Now, those,” he says, wrapping one big arm around

me and pulling me close, “are my specialty.”

close my eyes and lean into him, his arms tight

around me, the musty smell of his old woolly sweater

warm and familiar.

“Oh, Holly-berry,” he sighs, rocking me like child.

“You know, it hardly seems two minutes ago that first

gave you Mr. Brown to soothe you to sleep as baby.” He

looks at me. “Did you know he used to be mine, when

was little boy?”

stare up at him. “Really?”

He nods. “I loved him so much,

never went

anywhere without him—I never thought could ever part

with him.” He looks at me. “But it turned out could—for

something loved infinitely more. My first child.”

My heart sinks as rapidly as it rose.

“Then he wasn’t for me, was he?”

say, looking

away. “He was for her. For Rosie.” Just like everything else

“No, Holly-berry,” Dad says gently. “He was always

meant for you. You’re the one who needed him, who

couldn’t sleep without him. Who loved him.” He strokes





my hair off my face. “Some things are yours because

you’re born with them—your DNA, the color of your

414

eyes—and other things become yours because they’re

part of you who you choose to be—and that’s so much more important.” He sighs. “Huntington’s

whether you

have it or not, that’s not who you are. It doesn’t define

you, Holly.”

look away.

“You are the decisions you make. The things you do.

The people you love and who love you. They’re the things

that really make you who you are.” He smiles. “That’s why

Mr. Brown here will always be yours, just like this tree

house, like the scar on your knee where you fell off your

trike.” He links his pinkie with mine. “He’s part of who

you are Intertwined. Inseparable. And no one can ever

take that away. Ever.” His eyes linger on mine, deep and

full. “He’ll always be yours.”

My heart swells.

“Until you decide to give him to your own child one

day.” He grins, handing Mr. Brown to me and pulling me

closer. “It’s crazy thing, becoming parent,” he whispers

into my hair. “You never realize just how much it’s

possible to love someone else. How another life can be so

much more important than your own

until suddenly

you do.”

stare at Mr. Brown and swallow hard. Now’s the

time, the moment.

“Dad …”

“I know, know.” He grins. “Slushy slushy, but you’ll

understand one day, when it’s your turn.”

“Dad …”

415

“And that’s

long way in the future, know!” He

laughs. “Supersonic-shutting-up powers activated.”

“No, Dad …” hesitate. have to do this “Dad, you

know those super-sensitive listening skills?”

“Super-sensitive-sympathetic listening skills,” he

corrects me.

“Dad.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Activated. Shoot.”

look at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

Suddenly

smile, certain that everything will be okay.

“Dad, I—I’m—”

“Jack!” Megan yells from the garden.

Dad glances outside, then back at me. “Go ahead.”

“I …,” begin again.

“Jack!”

His gaze remains firmly on mine.

take deep breath.

“Jack!” Megan yells again. “Jack, where are you?”

look down at her pacing the garden, and my pulse

races. can’t do this in hurry.

“You’d better answer her,”

tell him, my heart

sinking.

He sticks his head out of the door. “Megan!” he calls.

“I’m in the tree house with Holly—can it wait?”

Megan hurries over,

large envelope in her hand.

“I’m sorry, no, it can’t,” she says, swiping her frazzled hair

from her eyes. “Jack, you have to see this,” she says, her

face deathly pale. “You too, Holly.”

416

Rosie

turn the kitchen tap on and drink straight from my

hands, the water cold and refreshing after my walk along

the harbor, my cheeks burning despite the morning chill.

“Well, what the hell can we do about it?” Jack’s voice bellows from the living room, making me jump. My heart

sinks.

turn the tap off carefully and hurry upstairs,

anxious to be out of the way of another argument.

“Rosie.” Megan steps into the hall, her hair nest of

frazzled curls. “You’re back.”

nod. “But I’ll get out of your way,” say quickly.

“No, Rosie.” She sighs. “Sweetheart, you’d better

come and see this.”

walk slowly back downstairs,

feeling of unease

sinking over me.

Jack is sitting hunched over in an armchair, the

contents of an envelope spread across the coffee table.

“I need some air,” Holly mutters, pushing past me.

“What’s going on?” ask, watching her go, my skin