“It was my dad, actually.” I could remember Dad talking to me about my name, telling me,
It spans the whole alphabet, because we wanted you to know you can be anything. “Whereas, your dad...” I said.
“Right, made me a junior. Resigned me to juniority.” “Well, you’re not your name,” I said.
“Of course I am. I can’t not be Davis Pickett. Can’t not be my father’s son.”
“I guess,” I said. “And I can’t not be an orphan.” “I’m sorry.” His tired eyes met mine.
A lot of old friends have been in touch the last few days, and I’m not an idiot. I know why.
But I don’t know where my dad is.” “The truth is—” I said, and then stopped as a shadow flashed over us.
I turned around. Daisy was standing over me. “The truth is,” she said, “we were listening to the radio,
heard a news report about your father, and then Holmesy here told me she had a crush on you when you were kids.
“Daisy,” I sputtered. “And I was, like, let’s go see him, I bet it’s true love.
So we arranged for a shipwreck, and then you remembered she likes Dr Pepper, and IT IS TRUE LOVE.
It’s just like The Tempest, and okay, I’m going to leave you now so you can live happily ever after.”
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