Ember sat in her bedroom windowsill, looking out at Firetown. She had been worried about the damages the flood had caused to the town, but was inspired by how quickly the Firish people had come together to repair it. Firish people from all over, even parts of Firetown that was spared, came together to help one another. The sense of community here was something she had always admired. She could always count on the Firish people here whenever there was a tragedy.
A knock at the door broke her from her thoughts. "Ember?" her father's voice called from the other side.
"Come in," she called, turning away from the window but remaining sitting on the windowsill.
The door opened and her father walked into her room. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
Ember smiled and nodded. "I'm okay, Àshfà," she responded. "Are you? I'm sorry about the shop."
Bernie shook his head and approached her, pulling up a stool so he could sit across from her. "My daughter, everything I care about the most is safe. That is all that matters to me."
Ember smiled sadly. "I know how much you care about your shop, though. You built it from scratch with your bare hands. I would understand if you were upset by it."
Bernie smiled warmly. "Why must you find reasons for me to be upset with you?" he asked gently.
Ember was taken aback by the question. She looked down. "I guess . . . I was just expecting you to be so upset with me for not wanting to take over the shop. I suppose I just feel like I deserve to be yelled at about something."
Bernie watched her sadly as she studied her hands in her lap. He stepped forward and knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "My daughter, I am so sorry that I made you think you had to follow my path. I thought you wanted to take over the shop. That is why I work so hard to make that happen."
Ember looked up until she met his eyes, tears pooling in hers. "That's what makes it so hard, dad. You worked so hard for the shop. You gave up everything for me."
Bernie reached his hand up and put it on her shoulder. "My daughter, you are correct. But you are wrong about why you are correct. I did give up everything for you. But I gave up everything for you because I wanted you to also have the life you wanted to have, something my father never understood."
Ember started to sob again and her father stood, pulling her into a hug. Ember leaned against her father's chest, letting him hold her. After a few minutes, her father spoke up again.
"My daughter," he said, pulling away so she could look at him. "I would be honored to hear about your dream."
Ember smiled and Bernie sat next to her, ready to listen with a soft smile. "Well," she started, "I was . . . thinking about taking an internship at a glassmaking company. Wade's mother recommended me to her friend who owns the best glassmaking company in the world."
She looked over at her father for his reaction, a part of her still expecting disappointment. Instead, he still watched her with a small smile.
"I think you would be wonderful doing that job, my daughter," he said gently.
Ember braced herself to tell her father the full truth. "Thank you, Àshfà, but . . ." Her voice trailed and she took a deep breath. "It's . . . a long way from here . . ."
Bernie nodded slowly. "And this . . . this is your dream?" he asked, watching her carefully.
Ember shrugged. "I don't know, I don't know if I'm right for that position and I don't –"
Bernie held up his hand, cutting her off. "My daughter," he said gently. "Is that your dream?" he asked again.
Ember held his eye for a moment. Then she looked down. "I think so," she finally answered.
Bernie nodded and put his hand on her shoulder again. "If that is your dream, then you should follow it," he told her with a sad smile.
Ember looked up at him again. "But . . . that would mean I have to leave you," she said, her eyes pooling with tears again.
Bernie put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I know, my daughter," he replied. "I also left my family to follow my dream, you know." Ember didn't reply and he exhaled slowly. "My daughter, when you are ready to follow your dream, I will support you. And I will be with you wherever you go."
Ember started to cry again and her father held her close again, rubbing her shoulder.
"It's okay, my daughter," he said comfortingly.
A few minutes of silence passed before Ember composed herself again, sitting up straighter. She looked at her father again with a sad smile of her own.
"Thank you, Àshfà," she said, a final tear falling from her cheek.
"Of course, daughter," he said gently. His brow flickered in thought. "You never did tell me exactly what happened in the basement."
Ember took a deep breath and recounted everything that had occurred over the past week. She started by explaining how her temper had caused the pipe to burst which led to her meeting Wade, to her mission getting the tickets canceled, which led to sealing the door with glass that ultimately failed. She also came clean about how her feelings for Wade grew throughout the entire ordeal, and how he'd allowed her to finally see a Vivisteria.
When she finished, she turned to her father, who was watching her with widened eyes and a slacked jaw. She was afraid she'd said something wrong when he finally responded.
"You did all that just to save shop?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in surprise.
Ember nodded slowly and looked down. "Yeah, but I failed," she said sullenly.
Bernie shook his head. "No, my daughter," he said gently. "I am honored to have such a dedicated daughter. I'm just sorry I never gave you a safe space to be yourself." He looked down sadly. "You are a good daughter, Ember. It is me who has failed as a father."
Ember quickly looked at him and shook her head, turning her body to face him and taking his hands. "No, Àshfà," she said sharply. "You are a great dad. You taught me so much my whole life. You taught me Firish culture, how to cook, and how to work with people. You taught me how to fix things, and how important family is. You taught me how to mold glass and stick up for myself. You taught me how to believe in myself, and how to fight for what's right. And most importantly, everything you've ever done for me was to protect me and give me my best chance at life. We have miscommunicated, but you were never a bad father, Àshfà. You are a good dad."
Bernie listened to his daughter and felt tears welling in his eyes. There weren't many things in his life that had made him cry. He had cried when he lost his home in Fireland, and cried when he had to leave it. He had cried when his father didn't give him his blessing. He had cried when Ember was born. He could count the amount of times he'd cried in his life on his fingers. But now . . . at a time he thought he'd failed his daughter, she still loved him and didn't resent him for the way he'd made her feel obligated to follow a dream she didn't have, though unintentionally. It was enough to make him cry once more.
"I am so proud of you, Ember," Bernie said with a choke that sent a puff of smoke from his mouth. "Not just for everything you've done for the shop, but for learning how to follow your own dream. You are a good daughter, Ember, and you will do amazing job at glassmaking company."
Ember smiled and squeezed his hands. "Thank you, Àshfà. But I want to stay and help Firetown first."
"That could take several months, my daughter. There was a lot of damage," Bernie pointed out.
Ember shook her head. "I know," she said. "But we are fire, Àshfà, and you also taught me that this community burns brighter when we come together in times like these. And our community has faced a large devastation today. I want to stay and help. Then I'll go."
Bernie smiled and gently put his hand on her face. "Good daughter."