In the weeks after our talk, he acted strange around Austin. Not only that, but he put more emphasis on family time than he had before. I tried to be understanding about it, but mostly it made me angry. Summer was almost over, and then I wouldn’t see Austin again for another nine months. I would see Dad multiple times throughout the year. He’d visit for Thanksgiving, Christmas and Spring Break. But the summer was all Austin and I had. When Dad insisted I forego my time with Austin to be with him, he was taking that away from me. “When are you gonna be straight with me, summer girl?” Austin asked one night as we sat on the beach near my house. He’d been over for dinner earlier. Originally, Dad had demanded that it only be the three of us, but I’d worn him down, insistently begging for Austin to come over. It was the last week of summer, after all. “What are you talking about?”
