Page 2 of Finn Rhodes Forever

“Yeah, sorry, Dad,” I added.

He waved us off, shaking his head and grinning. “If that’s the most trouble you got into while we were away last year, we’re good.”

Last year, while my parents went traveling, I ran the bar while working on my PhD dissertation. That’s how I became friends with Sadie—she needed a job while she and Holden fixed up the inn they’d inherited.

“Are you okay to close up?” he asked me, standing and dusting his hands off.

I nodded. My apartment was over the bar, so I usually closed. “I’ve got it under control.”

“Sounds good. Goodnight, honey.” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head before he headed out, something he had been doing since he married my mom when I was five years old.

Joe wasn’t my biological father, but he was my dad. He’d raised me, he loved me and my mom more than anything, and I couldn’t imagine a life without him. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to make a whiskey sour, and how to make pancakes. Where it mattered, he was my dad. The guy who knocked my mom up at twenty and slowly faded from my life? I didn’t call that guy Dad. I didn’t call him anything because I hadn’t heard from him in years.

As Sadie and I cleaned and prepared to close, I glanced around my dad’s bar at the regulars finishing up their drinks, at the old wood floors, the mismatched collection of photos and artwork. I’d been working here on and off since university, over a decade. Every year while I was in school I’d come home to Queen’s Cove, a small town on the coast of Vancouver Island, to help my dad with the summer tourist rush, and in the fall, I’d return to school.

I’d been back in town full time for almost two years working on my dissertation, and after the conversation I had with my advisor this morning, a new sense of urgency weighed in my gut.

“What’s up with you?” Sadie asked beside me at the bar. “You’re quiet tonight. Quieter than usual.”

I flattened my lips into a tight line. “I spoke to my advisor this afternoon.”

Sadie leaned in. “Okay, and?” She knew I’d been dodging my advisor’s calls and emails all week.

“She’s not dropping me like I thought.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, replaying the conversation in my head before I winced. “She took a position at the University of Toronto.” She currently held a position at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. “It starts in September but she can delay my deadline until October.”

“What does this mean for you?”

“It means that I need to find the flower by October or I’m dropped from the program.”

For years, I’d been trying to prove that certain plants could adapt to climate change, and that the pink sand verbena from the Queen’s Cove area, rumored to be extinct, had changed location because of the increasing coastal temperatures.

A memory popped into my head—the only memory I had of the flower. It was floating down a creek in the woods, its pink petals standing out against the dark stones as it meandered downstream before it disappeared.

I saw that flower. No one believed me, but I did. I knew it was still out there, but now I was running out of time to prove it.

Sadie reared back, frowning. “They can’t do that.”

I winced. Fuck, this was so embarrassing. “Yes, they can. I’ve been ‘finishing my research’ for two years.” I used air quotes around the words. “Most people finish their dissertation in one year, maximum.”

“Can you switch to another advisor, someone staying at the university?”

Shame twisted in my gut and I could barely meet her gaze. “I asked, and she said no one else wanted to take my work on.”

Meaning everyone else thought I was on a wild goose chase. My face heated in embarrassment, thinking about all the advisors in a meeting, discussing my work.

“She said the longer I take on my dissertation, the lower my chances of finishing are.”

Sadie blinked. “Shit. That’s harsh.”

I shrugged. “She’s right. I’ve been working on it for two years.” And three years of school and lab research before that. My stomach rolled as I remembered the tentative tone my advisor had used on the call. “I think she thinks I’m wasting my time.”

Sadie shifted, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “You’re out in the mountains looking for the flower all the time.”

“And I still haven’t found it.”

We stood in silence, listening to the music and quiet chatter in the bar.

“What are you going to do?” Sadie asked, studying my face.

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