Page 21 of The Sandbar saga

Everything blurred outside. She rubbed her hand on the window, trying to clear the rain away, but the harder she scrubbed, the worse it became until she couldn't see anything but gray.

Only then, she realized it was her tears blurring her vision.

"Sometimes, it's good to talk about those you miss," said Dr. Conner.

"Shut up," she mumbled.

"You can keep the memories of your dad alive if you talk about him."

He wasn't alive. He was dead.

Her chest quaked. Her dad died, and she was alone.

A foreign wail hurt her ears. She covered her head with her arms.

In the distance, Dr. Conner called her name. She opened her mouth to tell him she was here, and a scream scratched her throat. Frantic to see him, she swiveled on the seat.

Dr. Conner lowered her arms and gazed at her. "Let out the pain, Katie. It's okay."

Her muscles tightened. Her body hurt. Her eyes burned.

Throwing herself at Dr. Conner, she crawled up in his lap and buried her head against his chest. She was all alone. Nobody loved her anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her body still. Squeezing her eyes closed, she rubbed her cheek against the hair at the base of Dr. Conner's neck, remembering her father had hair on his chest, too.

Her dad used to hold her. He used to ask questions and say her name and ask about her day and take her in the car and he wore suits and his shoes thunked against the floor when he walked and he gave her candy and drove her to school and let her stay up past her bedtime and—

"Katie, what was your father's name?" He pulled her away from him and set her on his lap. "Do you know his name?"

"M-Michael Meihoff." She hiccupped.

"Did he play golf?"

She shook her head. "He smoked cigars."

"He did?" Dr. Conner continued to hold her arms to her sides. "Can you remember what they smelled like?"

She nodded. The smoke made this office stink.

"Mom always got mad because it made the house smell." She picked at the button on his shirt with her fingers. "Dad never listened to her. Sometimes, he'd go outside when it was sunny. I would sit with him. One time, he let me cut off the end of a cigar. The scissors are weird. Not like normal scissors."

"Did your dad let you do other fun things with him?"

"He took me to piano lessons." Her head pounded, and she crawled off Dr. Conner's lap.

Rubbing her eyes, she inhaled deeper. Her cheeks felt tight.

"Can you play the piano?" He reached across the car and opened the glove box, taking out a white napkin. "You can dry your face."

She scrubbed at her cheeks. "I can play Jingle Bells, Happy Birthday, and Fur...Fur something."

"Fur Elise?"

She looked at him. "Do you know that song?"

"I do. I like it."

"So did my dad. He always asked me to play it." She bunched the napkin in her hand. "I don't remember how, though."