I never thought I'd miss that dog.

But I do.

I miss his massive head and obnoxious tail and slobbering tongue and the way he would try to fit himself onto my lap even though he's too big; the way he would hog all of the pillows and try to get my attention when all I wanted was to read a book, and even the way he would run and bark maniacally through the house.

Because maybe then it wouldn't feel so empty.

Anna stays with me for the school year, so that she doesn't have to constantly transfer.

But he gets the dog.

And I'm really very bitter about this.

And while I contemplate getting a cat, I just don't know.

I am a cat person.

But I don't know.

I don't know what kind of person I am anymore—don't know who I am anymore.

I'm alone, that's what I am.

Well, I'm not really alone. I have Anna.

But when she stays with her father for the summer…Then I am truly alone.

And now summer is tinged with a sort of sadness that I can't seem to get rid of.

And the business…it's tricky now, but we're making it work.

But the most important thing is, Anna seems to be okay.

Right now, she's about to go to her last middle school dance, and she rushes to get ready, putting on different dresses and experimenting with her makeup. And I want to help her…but I've never been good with that kind of thing. I usually just throw something together and hope for the best.

But tonight, she really seems to care, and so when she comes downstairs with the final ensemble—a royal blue dress that's long enough for my approval, her hair done in a braid, silver heels (Heels! When and how has my daughter become so grown up?), and that pearl necklace that she still loves, I can't help but notice how important this seems to be to her.

And I also can't help but notice that it has already started pouring outside.

Watching my gaze shift to the window, Anna sighs, but tries to keep the mood light, so that I don't see how much it disappoints her, "It's raining cats and dogs out there."

Cats and dogs.

Cats and dogs.

She's been invited to a party, and so naturally, she drags me along.

Even though it's totally not my thing, and she knows it.

It's at a frat house, of all places, which makes me wonder how in the world she even got invited.

I never have.

But she's so outgoing and…fun.

And I'm socially awkward and quiet.

So yeah.

That's how.

I'm the one who drives, since clearly she doesn't have a car and we have no other means of getting there.

And when she gets out of the car, she keeps fussing with the hem of her green dress, smoothing out the wrinkles.

It's a simple thing; a solid color, form fitting, strapless, and paired with a small gold belt.

But I like how it brings out her hair, and her eyes, and her freckles.

And I'm wearing a dress.

A blue one.

Simple, like hers, except the top of it has these little sequin things—and I hate sequins.

And I didn't want to wear it, but she said she wasn't going to let me show up in jeans and a sweat shirt. So I'm wearing the dress.

For her.

'Do I look okay?' she asks.

I don't even hesitate to say it.

She's leaving in a week, and I have to tell her.

At least once.

'You look beautiful.'

I watch her face turn a shade of crimson beneath her freckles; slightly hidden behind the red hair that she has chosen to leave loose.

'You look beautifuller,' she says.

And then she pauses and brings a hand to her hair and I know she's embarrassed because she's caught her mistake too late. She's impressively fluent in English for how short of a time she's been speaking it, but she has her moments when she forgets how to say certain things.

And it's usually when she's distracted.

She ducks her head, 'That wasn't what I meant to say. You don't look fuller. But…more beautiful…'

And when she trails off, not knowing what else to say even though talking has never seemed to be a problem for her, I can't help but hold back a smile.

I'm not going to laugh at her.

But she's all flustered now; as she was when she strung together the incorrect word.

And…

I can't help the funny feeling I have that it's because of me.

It's kind of adorable.

'Cat got your tongue?' I tease her.

Because I know that she doesn't quite understand any of the English idioms yet.

And she looks at me all confused, until I can no longer keep a straight face.

When she realizes that I'm messing with her, she rolls her eyes, 'For now I'll just take that to mean you're a cat person. And you can explain it to me later. You seem like a cat person, anyway.'

A cat person, huh?

I've never really given much thought to it.

But…

I guess so.

Anna's still standing on the steps, and she looks worried.

And I don't know if it's parental instincts, or what, but something tells me that it's not just because of the rain.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

And she gives me the look.

The one where the parent is supposed to be able to decipher what message is really being conveyed by the façade of complete annoyance; the true worry masked by the overwhelming desire to keep it all inside.

She is a teenager, after all. What else would I have been expecting?

But the thing about Anna is that she's never really been that way. So in all of three seconds, she drops the charade, sighs, and admits, "My friends found me a date. For the dance. And…I'm nervous."

Oh.

Well, that would explain all of the extra care she's put into her appearance.

"You shouldn't have to be nervous," I tell her, "Unless it's not what you want."

She's quiet, "I mean, he's nice and all. And I talk to him at school. And it's not like we're going to start dating or anything. But…I don't know. I've never had an actual date before. Anywhere."

I wish she would have told me this sooner.

Maybe then we could have actually talked about it.

But in the little time we have remaining before the dance, I need her to understand one thing.

"Is it what you want?"

We're outside.

While the party rages on inside.

And it's just the two of us.

Even though it's close to midnight, the sky seems to be bright; the moon is shining and so are the stars, and the fact that there's snow everywhere causes our surroundings to be filled with a soft, light glow.

We're quiet for a few moments, but then she asks me.

And I know what she's talking about.

The same thing I didn't want to tell her about from the beginning.

The same thing she brought up in the restaurant.

And I know.

I know why it's bothering her.

And why I didn't want to tell her.

And why it bothers me.

'Is it what you want?'

I am silent for a few seconds before saying, 'I don't know.'

She looks me in the eye, 'Is it what you want?'

"I mean, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" Anna asks as she walks into the kitchen.

Although I'm fairly certain it's a rhetorical question, I confirm the answer anyway, "There is."

Silence.

Then…

"I'm…okay with it," she says.

"Are you sure?" I ask, "Because you don't have to go."

"I'm sure," she says, and she follows it with a nod, sounding much more confident than she did before, which reassures me.

But I can't help but be envious of how confidently she can make these decisions. I know it sounds absurd, but as the saying goes, you learn something new every day.

I just learned it too late.

Because I wasn't confident.

I never could be.

And now I wish I had been.

I wish.

But that's not going to change anything, now will it?

A/n: Yeah, not sure exactly what to say about this chapter except that for some reason I really enjoyed writing it. Like, a lot more than all of the other chapters. Maybe it's because of that memory from before the party. I have a feeling that that night is definitely going to be expanded on in the near future.

Also, to Anonymous: I wanted to let you know in reference to what you wrote in your review that you assumed correctly, so no worries :) I was definitely talking about you in my author's note from the previous chapter. I feel like I'm the one being awkward by singling you out :p but for taking the time to write out something so nice, I most certainly couldn't pass up the opportunity to thank you directly!

And as always, thanks for reading! And reviewing and following :) You're all awesome, and knowing that you all take the time to read something that I've written really means more to me than words can say.