Page 167 of Mountain Daddy

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I know I’ll get there. Eventually.

But in the meantime, I’m going to need to find other things to talk to my dad about. So it might as well be Buddy.

“Was it… dead?” Dad grimaces.

“Was what…? No!” The tears build in my eyes all over again at the mere thought of finding Buddy dead. “He’s fine.”

My voice cracks, my tears start to fall, and my dad looks absolutely horrified.

He waves his hands around. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because you asked if he’s dead!” I practically yell.

Now that I’ve started crying, I can’t stop.

“I don’t even know whoheis!” Panic fills his voice.

“He’s Buddy!”

I use the back of my hands to brush off my face as I try to even out my breathing.

“Kenny.” Dad lowers his voice like I’m the wild animal. “You know I love you, right?”

I choke on a laugh. “I know.”

“So if you tell me you met a fox named Buddy, then I’ll believe you, okay?”

This time I snort. “I didn’t make him up.”

He nods. “I believe you.”

I brush away another tear as I smile. “Dad.”

“Yeah?”

I point past him to the back door.

He glances to where I’m pointing, then rears back. “Holy shit.”

Buddy, who is sitting just on the other side of the glass door, lets out a scratchy shout.

Dad slowly turns his head back to me. “It’s a fox.”

I grin. “It’s a fox.”

“Night.”

“Night, Dad,” I call over my shoulder as I walk down the hall.

“I was talking to Buddy,” he calls back, heading to his room.

I shake my head.

We ate our breakfast for dinner while watchingIndiana Jones.

It’s a favorite from when I was younger and had just the right amount of violence and humor to distract me from my mood.

But as I step into the bathroom, my thoughts are no longer distracted, and I have to focus on getting ready for bed.

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