Page 63 of Over Time Advantage

Kennedy opens her apartment door wearing a cropped T-shirt and tiny panties. I quickly avert my eyes. “Oh my god. You answer the door like this? Go put some damn clothes on. I’m scarred for life.”

She lets out a laugh. “Okay, but should the random, nameless guy in my bed leave before you come inside?”

I suck in a breath, drop the grocery bag I’m holding, and rush into her bedroom to beat senseless whoever is in there.

When I open the bedroom door, her bed is empty. I hear her cackling. “I’m yankin’ your chain, Dad. I’m suffering through a dry spell right now. My vagina is on a temporary hiatus.”

I rub my temples. “Can you please watch how you talk to me? The word vagina should never come out of your mouth in front of me.”

“Okay, my ass is on hiatus too.” She bats her eyelashes, loving nothing more than pushing my buttons. She waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. I might not have anyone rocking my world right now, but at least I don’t have anybody ruining it.”

I exhale a deep breath. “I will wait in your micro kitchen while you put some clothes on, and you will never again answer your door in this state of undress. What if I were a stranger? A deliveryman or someone like that?”

She shrugs, seemingly unaffected. “Then I would have done a public service by giving him the best damn day of his life.”

There are many good things about having a confident, beautiful daughter. There are also a lot of really fucking bad things. This falls into the latter.

I grumble, “Just get dressed,” before I stomp back into her doorway area, pick up the grocery bag, and squeeze myself into the smallest kitchen in existence. I search for a kettle with no luck and then shout out, “Where’s your kettle?”

She shouts back from her bedroom, “Don’t have one.”

I swear, she lives like a frat guy. There’s only one pan in this entire kitchen, though not that much more can fit in here.

“If you don’t have a kettle, how do you make hot chocolate?” I yell.

“Microwave,” she responds.

I fill two mugs—the only two in the cabinet—with water and set the microwave timer. Pulling out my phone to see if Fallon texted about our plans for later, I see I have no reception. I yell out, “What’s your Wi-Fi?”

She yells back, “My network is G-Spot. My password is not found exclamation point. The N and F are in caps.”

I roll my eyes at her ridiculousness. I’m not putting that into my phone.

As the microwave is heating the water, she walks into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt that reads, Moister than an Oyster, with a giant, pink, open oyster on the front.

I sigh. “Really?”

She shakes in silent laughter. “It was a birthday gift from Shay. Classic lesbian humor. Sulley had a little birthday party for me last night.” Shay and Sulley are two of her teammates.

I smile. “I’m happy you’ve made some nice friends. You all seem close.”

She nods. “Yep. It’s a good crew.”

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“My birthday was yesterday.”

We share bemused looks at our ongoing joke. Kennedy was born on February twenty-ninth, meaning she only has an actual birthday every four years. We’ve always had a debate on whether it should be celebrated on the twenty-eighth of February or on March first.

“Yeah, yeah. I brought some hot chocolate to celebrate. I don’t know if we can both fit in this kitchen to drink it. Why is it so damn small?”

She shrugs. “I can afford either a big kitchen or a big closet. Not both. Guess which one I chose? I can’t cook for shit anyway. I can shop like a motherfucker though.”

“Watch your mouth,” I command to deaf ears. “And speaking of your extensive wardrobe…” I hand her a generous gift certificate to one of those high-end boutiques she likes. She won’t take cash from me. This is the only way I can help her in a manner she’ll accept.

She looks at it. “Thanks, Dad. I know this is your way of trying to give me money. I appreciate it.” She leans forward and kisses my cheek.

I nod then pour the hot chocolate packets into the hot water and place three big marshmallows in her mug. She gives me an uncharacteristically soft smile. “Thanks for always remembering the extra marshmallows.”