Author's Note: Hey there! I'm so so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been so busy with school and exams, and then camp and my birthday, and on top of it all I'm getting ready to move across the country! Just now, when I'm sick, have gotten to writing this again. I really do love this story, it's just so easy to write! It took me only about half an hour to write the entire thing! Anyhow, I hope you all like it!

"Viola!" I hear Sawyer's voice in my ear. "Viola! Wake up! Dad made pancakes and they're gonna get cold!"

I roll over, hardly awake, and see Sawyer looking at me expectantly. I mumble sleepily. "What?"

"Dad made…"

"Sawyer, you didn't need to wake your sister!" I hear Dad say from the hall. Sawyer turns to face him. "Go eat your breakfast, I'll be there in a second."

Chuckling, Dad sits at the end of my bed. I prop myself up on my elbows.

"How'd you sleep?" Dad asks.

"Alright," I say. "How about you? I hope I didn't hog the bed."

"No, I slept well."

I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "I guess I'm getting too old to have my Daddy sleep with me, huh?"

"It's always nice to have someone near you when you're scared," Dad smiles at me, stroking my cheek. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"I… um… uh…" I mutter. "I… I really can't remember it, Dad. It was… kinda scary, though."

"You're sure?"

Dad can see right through me, as per usual. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He get up, "I'd better go to your brother. Pancakes are waiting for you when you're ready."

I get up and head towards my bathroom. "I'll be right there."

I walk into the bathroom, and just as I'm about to shut the door I hear Dad's voice.

"Viola?"

I walk out. "Yeah?"

Dad looks concerned as he stares at the ground, shuffling his feet like a nervous little boy. Sawyer does just the same thing when he's about to ask for something. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you, if something was troubling you?"

"Of course," I reply quickly, flashing him what I hope to be a convincing smile.

"Good," Dad looks at me. "I'd hope so."

I go into the bathroom, not looking forward to facing him at the breakfast table.

"Before I forget, Viola," Dad says as I sit down in front of my pancakes. "I talked to Papa earlier, he'd like you to call him after he's done work, after six or so."

"He doesn't want to talk to me?" Sawyer whines.

"Of course he does, buddy," Dad pats Sawyer's hand. "You can talk to him tonight as well."

Sawyer, seemingly satisfied with his answer, continues eating his pancakes. I take a bite into mine, and they taste just as good as they've always been. Whenever both Dad and Papa are home, Dad makes breakfast, usually something simple and classic like pancakes or waffles, and Papa makes these elaborate, often foreign dinners with things that are stuffed with herbs or minced or something fancy like that. Nonetheless, they're both delicious, though it makes me want Papa to come home even more thinking that I'll be eating Dad's famous (if not mediocre) macaroni and cheese tonight.

"Does Auggie have a game tonight?" I ask, thinking that if he does we may go out for dinner.

"I don't believe so…" Dad thinks as he chews his pancakes. "Actually, I think he's having a get-together with some of his teammates."

"Could we go to the beach today, Dad?" Sawyer asks. "Before it gets too cold."

Dad nods his head. "Sure, that sounds like fun. Doesn't it, Vi?"

"Sure," I say. "But I don't really feel like going to the beach."

Sawyer laughs mischievously. "What's not to like about the beach?"

I stare at him, giving him the death glare that is internationally known between siblings. "I just don't feel like going out, that's all."

"Gosh, sorry!" Sawyer whines. "We can still go, right Dad?" "Do you not feel well?" Dad asks. He reaches over to feel my forehead. I move away from his hand, and he replies with a hurt puppy-dog look that kills me inside.

"I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I almost shout.

Dad is silent.

"Are we going, Dad?" Sawyer asks, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah, yeah," Dad says. "Of course. Why don't you see if your brother wants to come with us?"

"I guess," Sawyer says, taking plate, which has been licked clean, to the kitchen counter and running off to August's room.

"Excuse me," I say, rising and taking my plate to the kitchen before Dad has a chance to say anything. I scurry off to my bedroom, leaving my dad alone at the table.

It's like my heart is being torn from my chest.

"We're ready to go, Vi!" Dad says as he pokes his head into my bedroom.

"Okay," I reply, looking up from the book I've been 'reading' as I contemplate things. "Have fun."

"No, no," Dad sighs as he walks into the room. He stands at the end of my bed, arms crossed, with a little grin on his face. "You're coming with us."

"I thought we decided this morning that I was staying here," I tell him. "I don't want to go."

Dad wanders around the bed. "I know you don't want to come, but I'm not going to let you sit alone in your room and get in your head and not spend quality time with your family."

I just look at him.

Dad puts his face right in front of mine. "I'm your father and I'm putting my foot down!"

He still has a silly grin on his face, and he doesn't sound angry but seems impressed with his defiance, so I can't help but smirk. "But I want to finish my book!"

Taking it out of my hands, he looks at the cover. "To Kill A Mockingbird? I've read this a million times; I can tell you everything that happens while we're at the beach. Besides, you've seen the movie."

I just grin.

"Look, kiddo," Dad puts the book on my nightstand and sits at the end of the bed. "Family time is important. And I know there's something bugging you…"

"Nothing's bugging me," I counter.

He shakes his head. "I'm your Dad, Viola. I always know when something's bugging you. Anyway, all I want is to spend some time with all my children. Is that too much to ask?"

I take a deep breath. "No."

Dad smiles. "Good. Now get your bathing suit and everything you need and meet me downstairs in five minutes."

I nod.

Dad leans in to kiss me on the forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart. You make your old man very happy."

"Right," I say. Dad leaves the room and I sigh, praying to God that nobody I know will be at the beach.