Lester left Nora’s shop shortly after giving Jay his Monster Parade pass, citing other preparations he needed to make. Jay was mainly in awe of the possibilities the item might provide. Beyond that, he was balking at the sheer expense. The guild was clearly making money hand over fist, somehow.

Jay settled in to read the Survival skillbook. The information was dense, but the more he read, the easier it was to absorb. In addition to dungeoneering, the book covered widespread flora and fauna across the entire continent. The book also went over strategies for determining topology in an unknown area. One chapter was, without knowing what it was doing, genuinely called “Surviving on an Island.” He finished the whole thing, adding the Survival skill to his character sheet.

Before his date with Claire, Jay spent the next twenty-four hours reading skillbooks. When he tried to check in with Sarah, she simply told him she was hanging out with her new friends. He assumed she meant Jenny and Ken, which Jay didn’t have a problem with. They were all a similar age, so it made sense.

He tore through the whole Cooking and Mining skillbooks during his whirlwind reading period, stopping only to sleep. Page by page, he got better at speeding through it but found the information sticking less and less.

Jay couldn’t, for the life of him, remember the different uses of basil and oregano. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

***

At the end of his reading marathon, Jay arrived to pick up Claire three minutes early. She didn’t exit her apartment building until exactly seven pm. She wore a knee-length green dress, which would have been scandalous a hundred years ago. It was actually relatively modest. Despite leaving her shoulders bare, the neckline stopped just below the start of her neck.

Jay wore black slacks and his best shirt—a purple long-sleeved button-up. He opened the door for her as she walked toward the car, taking in the wafting scents of her perfume. It was a floral smell with citrus notes. When she stepped inside, he said, “Sorry about the car.”

Jay closed the door on her, kicking himself as he went around to the other side. The seconds ticking felt like agony. He knew he had done the horrible thing people did, speaking right before closing a door. He stepped inside the car and immediately regretted his words.

Claire already seemed uncomfortable. An awkward silence fell over the car, and Jay understood he’d said the wrong thing already. He was going to push through the awkwardness somehow, brain spinning a hundred miles an hour for a way out.

“Don’t feel weird about your car,” she said shyly, hair hanging over her face as she stared into the floorboards. “My dad had a lot of money—not that it ever did my mom and me any good. They were never genuinely together, and she never wanted me to see him. I’ve never really trusted rich people. Sometimes, I think they all only care about getting more money.”

Conversations about fathers were one of his least favorite topics. Jay swallowed hard. Part of him wanted to push Claire away from it, stop her from being so intensely personal, so fast. But when he glanced at her, he saw old wounds on her face. The kind of wounds that were deep enough to last a long time—even forever. The other part wanted to explain his own story and how he could relate in some small way.

He still needed to shy away from the fact that if he fulfilled his contract with Tumult, he’d effectively win the lottery. That would turn him into one of those rich people Claire didn’t seem to like. Jay also didn’t want to mention the check he’d received earlier that day, resulting in a five-figure sum in his bank account. It turned out that doing your homework really could pay.

His compassion won out. “I understand what you mean. My dad hasn’t been around for a long time.”

He kept his voice even, just laying it out there. He was willing to talk to her if he could help, but he didn’t want to push. Topics like this could send people running away at a mile a minute.

Jay backed the car up, figuring they could talk on the way to their destination as readily as while seated in Claire’s apartment parking lot. Claire turned to look at him as he drove, which was highly distracting—having a pretty girl staring. But he didn’t say anything. She was dealing with something in her own way.

“Your dad left your mom?” Claire finally asked. Fortunately, she looked away, allowing Jay’s mind to settle.

“Sort of,” Jay said. “I was lucky—extremely fortunate, really. My dad remains, to this day, one of the best people I’ve ever known. He was awesome, ready to be anything anyone needed for whoever needed it. He worked for a local non-profit. A rare breed.”

“Was?” Claire’s said faintly. She’d clearly gotten the point of the story. The lingering ghost hung over Jay no matter what he did. He forced his mind to focus on the road, ignoring where it wanted to go: the night he’d told Taylor Lynn about his father.

“Was,” Jay confirmed, inclining his head slightly to acknowledge the ghost. Respecting it would sometimes dissuade it from possessing him. “When I was ten years old, I was sick with the flu on a rainy Midwestern night. He was so worried, even though I could likely have fought it off without medicine. He drove to the store in the rain.”

“He crashed because of the rain?” Claire asked, nervously cutting in.

“No,” Jay said, fighting back the tears welling up in his eyes. “He was an excellent driver. That’s why we trusted him to come back home. All of us: me, my mom, and little Sarah. That’s the thing about being strong, though, isn’t it?”

“What’s the thing?” Claire asked, a puzzled look on her face. She was staring at Jay again. He could see her out of the corner of his eye but was growing used to it. In the moment, it seemed like she was soaking up some of his pain, too. That felt good.

Jay was barely holding on. He was lucky he’d told the story before, or he’d never have managed his way through it without crying. “You can be the strongest player in the game. The best driver around. The danger is really other people, the ones who don’t know what they’re doing. Sometimes you don’t see it coming. One of those drivers who don’t know what they’re doing found my dad that night. He didn’t see it coming.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Through the years, Jay had heard a dozen different reactions. He still remembered every single response from the funeral vividly, even though it was nearly two decades back. Claire could have said she was sorry or that she understood how he felt. She could have brought him a casserole or said something about a better place.

But she didn’t.

“I miss my dad, too,” Claire said. “Even though I never really knew him. That doesn’t really matter in the end. He’s still my dad; I still miss him.”

“You’re lucky if you get one,” Jay agreed, smiling slightly. He was hoping a little positivity could shift the mood. There wasn’t exactly a first date atmosphere being cultivated in the car—it was a little more “let’s find a Ouija Board.” He didn’t want to get into that kind of trouble with anyone.

“Don’t I know it,” Claire said, turning on the radio. She found a top pop station and smiled over at Jay, making it obvious she was joking. She was much better at shifting the mood.

Jay’s eyes briefly deviated from the road, finding hers. He quickly remembered himself and flung them back. The time passed quickly as Claire sang along to the music while they closed in on the destination.

When Jay parked, still smiling, he rushed over to open her door.

“Don’t I feel special,” Claire said, smoothing her dress as she stepped out of the car. “Thank you.”

Jay wasn’t sure if she was an affectionate person. He wasn’t sure if it was the moment of vulnerability they shared in the car, but Claire grabbed his hand as they entered the Italian restaurant. She didn’t even let go of it when they reached the front door.

It did make opening the door a little awkward.

Claire and Jay chuckled about that as they approached the host. The man told them their table was ready and brought them to it. He placed two menus on the white tablecloth. When the waiter arrived, he found them chuckling in their own little world. Luckily for the waiter, they noticed him because he brought breadsticks.

“Everywhere should have unlimited breadsticks,” Claire commented as the waiter left them to peruse the menu. “I don’t know why this isn’t catching on more.”

“Limited supply. Only explanation,” Jay said. Then he bit into a warm, fluffy breadstick. The herb seasoning was delicious.

“So, do you like your job?” Jay asked. He kept it vague, hoping to avoid the appearance of prying into Mr. George’s business. Although that was what he wanted.

Without sounding chiding, she responded, “I didn’t bring you here to discuss work. I brought you here because you’re a cute guy.”

It sounded like Jay wasn’t going to be getting any information. That was okay since it didn’t appear she’d be asking for any, either.

“I brought you here,” Jay said.

Claire blinked twice before she broke into laughter.

“What did I do?” Jay asked with genuine confusion. His face twisted further as she continued laughing, taking several seconds to settle down.

“That was a dad joke,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t peg you as the dad joke type.”

He could have facepalmed when the joke sunk in, but he didn’t. Fortunately, the waiter saved him by arriving to take orders. By the time the waiter left, Jay had moved the conversation on.

“Alright, no work, then,” Jay promised. “Then what are you like when you’re not at work? What gets you out of bed?”

“My alarm clock,” Claire teased playfully, covering her mouth as she started laughing at her joke.

Before she could settle down, Jay mouthed, “Dad joke.”

Claire giggled, shaking her head like she was shaking water out after a swim. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I guess it’s… painting.”

“Painting?”

“Painting,” Claire confirmed, letting her hair fall into her eyes again.

Jay reached over the table without thinking, brushing the hair behind her ear.

“T-thanks,” she stuttered slightly. Pausing momentarily, she mentally shook off her surprise. “Yeah, I love painting. You can create something from nothing, and I love that. For you, I guess it’s gaming, right?”

“It used to be,” Jay said. “But the most important thing to me these days is family.”

Something changed after that. Jay and Claire fell into a rhythm as they enjoyed their date. He learned a lot more about her as they discussed everything people weren’t supposed to discuss on a first date. They trekked through ancient dating history, hopes, dreams, and everything in between.

The awkwardness of earlier had thoroughly disappeared by the time the food finally came out.

“What did you want to be when you were little?” Claire asked as she twirled spaghetti around her fork. Jay worried about her lovely, clean green dress. But her hands were steady. “You know—before everything got all complicated.”

Jay sliced into his meatballs with his fork. “I wanted to be a fireman, I suppose. Back before I realized how scary it would be to run face-first into fires. What about you?”

He carefully ate, agonizingly slowly, all in the name of protecting his best shirt. At some point, he should likely go shopping for new clothes. But that was so far down his list it may as well be buried.

“I dunno,” Claire admitted, smiling at his dumb joke. “I didn’t ever think about stuff like that. I always figured I just wanted to help out my mom. She worked so hard; I wanted to contribute.”

“Were you able to?” Jay asked. He was able to relate to that. In some ways, that’s what his contract was all about. Helping his mom take care of Sarah.

“I guess. We live in the same apartment. Sometimes, though,” Claire said, looking at her spaghetti, “it feels more like we’re roommates.”

The idea didn’t bother her, even though Jay thought it was sad. They happily continued to enjoy their meal, talking about lighter matters. Jay learned that she used to play the french horn, which he teased her about repeatedly. Claire learned that he used to fall asleep playing games on his computer when he was young. His mom would move him during the night, but he never remembered going to bed. She teased him about that.

When they returned to Claire’s apartment, since Jay had really only planned for a dinner date, they stood awkwardly in front of her building. If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t expected to enjoy himself as much as he did.

“So,” Jay said but didn’t get much else out before Claire stepped forward and gently embraced him. He hugged her back, placing his hands on the small of her back. Her head tilted upward, so she could look into his eyes.

Claire gave Jay the look. This look was the kind he’d only seen once before. Back when his first girlfriend gave it to him after their three-month anniversary. The look was wanting and haunting and begged for a kiss. It was the look he wanted from Taylor Lynn.

Unbidden, his memories of the night he and Taylor Lynn had talked about his father rushed to cloud his mind. She hadn’t given him that look but had kissed him anyway. Only later, when he had looked for more than a kiss, had he learned the reason for what she did.

When he told her, Taylor Lynn had pitied him at that moment—and he never wanted to feel like that again.

While Jay was frozen, the moment passed him by. Once it did, his mind rushed back to the moment where he actually existed—reality. Claire looked down, embarrassed.

“Thank you for a wonderful night,” she said, and Jay could tell she was shutting down. Then she turned, walked into her apartment, and left him standing outside. He felt he hadn’t just ruined the moment but the whole night. Jay looked up, expecting rain.

But the rain on his parade was purely metaphorical.