Chapter 66

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"Hi, kiddo," the voice that definitely wasn't Mom said. I looked up. 

"DAD!!" I said, throwing my arms around him. "What are you doing here? Tour isn't finished yet, is it?"

"Nope. I have another week. BUT, I have two nights off, so I thought I'd fly home and surprise you. You look good, kid," he smiled. "How's the noggin?"

"It's getting better. Stitches are all gone, and my hair's growing in. But I'm still not allowed to do PE."

"That sucks," he said. 

"Yeah, but I get a lot of my homework done. My teacher lets me sit in her office and use her desk,  instead of sitting in the bleachers and working on my knees. So that's helpful."

"How're the ribs?"

"Mostly  healed. Like my arm," I said. 

"Awesome," he said, smiling and giving my hair a very gentle ruffle. 

He pulled out of the school driveway and headed towards home.  Until he wasn't heading towards home. 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Out," he said. 

"Daaaad," I whined. 

"I love hearing you call me that," he smiled. "Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride," he smirked. I sighed and sat back. My phone dinged with a text from Mom. 

"Surprise!" she wrote. 

"Indeed," I replied. 

"Have fun with your dad. See you later."

Dad was driving towards the beach. 

"I thought we could head down to Venice, have some dinner, hang out for a bit, and then head home," he said.

"Okay."

"I'm telling you, Jessica, when tour is done, I'm going to be around a lot. We're gonna spend a lot of time together, catching  up."

"Dad, are you feeling guilty because you weren't here when I got beat up?"

He was quiet, and wouldn't look at me.

"Dad?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," he said, his voice cracking. 

"It's not your fault, Dad," I said. 

He pulled over and stopped the car, and put it in park. And then he started crying. 

"Dad!" I said, shocked. "Dad! Stop!"

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, but didn't stop crying. "I'm so sorry."

"Dad! Please stop crying!" I said, starting to cry myself. "You're scaring me!"

"I'm sorry," he said, trying actively to stop crying. "I don't want to scare you."

I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my hoodie. 

"Jess, when Mom called me, I had no idea what, how bad what happened was. I even told her that I was in the middle of tour and couldn't just come home. It was something in her voice, and then when she said you were in a coma, I... I was so afraid we were going to lose you. I was so scared that by the time I got to LA, you'd be gone. I had all the worst case scenarios running through my head, trying to get the plane to fly faster to you."

"But, Dad, it wasn't your fault what happened. It probably would have happened even if you'd been home,"

"I know. But I wasn't. And I couldn't be here for you when you needed me the most," tears leaked down his face. "I was six hours away. There was so much going through my mind while flying across the country."

"Mom was there. The whole time. Well, almost," I said. 

"How do you know that? You were unconscious when she got to you at the school."

"I could hear some things. Sort of. In and out. Not everything, and not all the time, but a few times I could hear stuff. I heard Mom's voice I guess when the ambulance got there. I don't remember anything after getting to the hospital or before waking up."

"Oh,  honey. You  must have been so scared," Dad said.

"I think I was in too much pain to be scared,"

Dad started crying again. 

"Dad, it's okay. I'm fine. I even stopped having the nightmares."

"What nightmares?"

"Mom didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? No."

"Never mind," I said. 

"No. Tell me,"

I sighed. 

"For a while I was having nightmares of the beating," I said. More tears from Dad. "But I don't have them anymore. And if I do, I don't remember."

"Jessica, I am so, so sorry this happened. I wish I could go back and stop it."

"Uh, Dad, how does that even make sense?"

"I don't know. I'm still kinda new to this parenting thing, and since I adopted this kid, she's gotten lost, run away, gotten a pretty nasty case of pneumonia and then thrush, and then got beat up and put in a coma. So, I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to handle all this stuff."

"Well, to be fair, I don't think most parents have to deal with all this stuff," I said. 

Dad reached over and gave me a hug. 

"What did I do to deserve a smart, mature and awesome kid like you?"

"Uh, you adopted me," I grinned. 

"True that," he said. "Okay, let's get back to where we were heading."

"Where are we heading?"

"West," Dad said. 

"Oh, you're funny," I mused. 

Dad kept driving until he pulled up to a beach side restaurant. Some place I'd never been. 

"I brought your mom here on one of our first official dates," he said. 

"So does that mean now we're dating? That's a bit gross, Dad," I said. 

"Smart ass," he said, turning off the car. 

We went inside the restaurant and were seated on the patio overlooking the ocean. 

"Order whatever you're in the mood for," Dad said. 

"Even the steak and lobster and Dom Perignon?" I asked, smirking. 

"Well, sure, except you can't actually drink the Dom. So maybe don't order that," he smirked. "In fact, you can order it, but if they actually serve it to you, they'll be the ones in trouble."

I laughed. This was awesome. Out for an early dinner with my dad, who was supposed to be somewhere in Canada right now. 

In the end, I wound up ordering a burger and fries and a Coke. Dad had a steak. No lobster, no Dom Perignon. He had fries and a Coke as well. 

We just talked about stuff going on. School, my friends, what school's been like since going back, that sort of stuff.  He told me he brought some stuff back for me from the bus. Things his fans had brought for me, he said. 

After dinner, we walked down to the beach and walked along the water. I hadn't been to the beach much, well, in my life. But not since moving in with Mom and Dad. 

We just walked and chatted more. Dad told me more about how tour was going, and that he missed having Mom and I with him, but that he was happy tour was ending in a week or so. 

Finally, we went back to the car and headed home. 

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