When Dad brought us home, everyone was looking out their windows and watching. You could feel it.

Chip came over and fist-bumped Dad and they talked on the porch.

Carlene waved from her house and I waved back.

Delilah came over and said, “Where’s LeAnn?” and Dad gave her a look like don’t talk about that right now in front of the girls but she should talk about it.

I wanted her to talk about it.

But instead she said, “Okay, okay. I understand.” Then she looked at me and Berk and said, “You all should come over and watch some Iron Chef later.”

And I said, “Yes, please.”

And Berk said, “Okay.”

But Dad didn’t let us.

And Melody got up off the steps and yelled over to me. She yelled, “Olivia!” and I waved.

And Dad waved, too.

Later there were cookies on our steps with a note that said FOR OLIVIA AND BERKELEY.

And Randy gave Dad a key because Dad lost his and Bob and Grant talked to Dad about his new car because he had a new car.

Even Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson came over and asked if we were going to help her with her sale on Saturday, looking at Dad the whole time.

Everyone was so so happy to see him.

When we got inside Dad said, “Sit.”

So we sat.

Then he said, “I have a lot of important things to tell you.”

And I said, “I almost came to Bryce to find you.”

He looked at me. “What?”

“I almost came to get you. At Bryce. We needed you.”

He looked all concerned and said, “Oh, honey. I wasn’t at Bryce Canyon.”

Wasn’t.

At.

Bryce.

Canyon.

Wasn’t.

At.

Bryce.

Canyon.

Wasn’t.

At.

Bryce.

Canyon.

I stood up.

I clenched my fists.

I was about to scream but then a police officer named Biff knocked on the door and said, “I’m sorry. I’m going to arrest this man.” And Dad said, “What are you talking about? What’s happening?” And he looked at me. “What’s happening, Olivia?”

And I shrugged and Berk shrugged and the police said, “I now arrest you for being the biggest fattest liar dad on the biggest fattest liar planet.”

And then Dad, he started sobbing and sobbing and I said, “Don’t eat the spaghetti,” because I’d heard they do gross things to Italian foods in prison and then they took him away in a police car.

But really, he sat next to me and said, “Oh, honey. I wasn’t at Bryce Canyon.”

And I tried to breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

He wasn’t in Bryce Canyon. He was in Salt Lake City, which is forty minutes from here.

Forty minutes.

I sat there.

“Do you want to move in with me?” he said. “Maybe just until we get things figured out?”

I sat there.

Berk sat there.

Salt Lake City.

Forty minutes away.

And . . .

He looked different.

He wore a suit.

He had no goatee.

He was thinner.

He was serious.

He lived in Salt Lake City.

Forty minutes from here.

“No,” I said.

Berkeley held my hand.

He squatted in front of us. “Look. I was going to come back. I always meant to come back. It’s just, things got complicated.”

I watched his face. It had wrinkles.

He stood up. Paced around a bit.

“Your mom said you needed time to adjust. I was traveling.”

Adjust to what? Mom said we needed to adjust? Didn’t sound like Mom.

He kept talking. He liked to talk. He told us things about things and then more things. And he’s sorry and then there’s things and my mom said things and he said things and there are things. And he meant to do this and he meant to do that and things. And he didn’t always live so close. He just moved back. He’d been in recovery. We don’t know what that means but it’s important and he’ll explain it someday. It’s not what we think. Not at all what we think. It’s just. It’s just. Someday when we’re older. When we can understand. In fact in fact in fact. He has a great condo and things. There are things. He was planning on coming to get us for a weekend. We should talk more. About things. Lots of things. Things things.

Then he said, “I think we should all move to Salt Lake. There are kids around. There’s a park pretty close.”

His face was so big. Was it always so big?

I said, “No.”

He looked at me. “Olivia. It’s not really up for discussion.”

I stared at him.

Then he started pacing again. “The only problem is the condo is small. I could make room for you girls but you need to finish out school and I have to work and it’s a new job but I might be able to make it permanent if I do well.”

Do well.

Do well.

Do well.

Then he says “Mom. Mom, LeAnn is fine. She’s always fine.”

He looked at me. “Your mother is fine, right? This was all a mistake.”

I didn’t say anything.

He lived in Salt Lake City.

Forty minutes away.

He sat across from us on the ripped-up recliner. Took a breath for the first time home. Took a breath and looked around. “You girls didn’t change a thing.”

And he was right. We still had his football trophies on a shelf. We still had his poster of the sunset in Hawaii up on the wall. The same blankets. The same rugs. The same sayings on the fridge.

Mom even still had the few clothes he left hanging in the closet.

Like our whole existence had been on hold, waiting for him to come home.

Suddenly I didn’t want to be in there anymore.

He was talking about something but I didn’t want to hear it.

I stood up.

Berkeley stood up.

“We’re going to the tramp,” I said.

“What tramp?”

“The trampoline outside.”

“We have a trampoline?”

“No. You don’t have a trampoline,” I said. “We have a trampoline.”

I took Berkeley’s hand and we went outside in the sun, which is warm and bright.