The last weekend of June arrived with a clear sky and the kind of warm air that promised the city wouldn't sleep easy. He left the Oldest House at two sharp, citing "personal business" — the kind of phrasing that usually implied disaster, but today only meant family.

Before heading out, he stopped by Darling's lab.

"You still on for Sunday morning?" Trench asked.

Darling looked up from a half-disassembled slide projector, blinking owlishly behind his glasses. "Absolutely. Central Park adventure with the Trench family? I wouldn't miss it."

Trench huffed a quiet laugh at that. "Bring walking shoes."

Darling grinned as he waved him off, clipboard in hand, and said, "Go be a good dad, Zach."

Traffic was kind on the way to Kate's. He found himself oddly nervous, tapping the steering wheel at every red light. This wasn't the first time he'd seen Susanna since the custody papers were finalized, but it was the first time she'd be staying with him. At his house. Their house now, at least on some weekends.

When he got to Kate's, Susanna was already waiting in the hallway, a purple backpack slung over her shoulder and a glittery unicorn sticker stuck to her cheek.

"Hi, Daddy!" she beamed, running into his arms before he could even knock.

"Hey, bug," he said, lifting her easily. "Ready for your big weekend?"

"I packed my books," she said, seriously. "And my toothbrush. And Frogbert."

"Can't forget Frogbert," he nodded solemnly. "But what about Mr. Bunny? Won't he be jealous?"

Susanna thought for a moment before saying, "Nah, Mr. Bunny can stay here to take care of Mommy while I'm gone."

Kate stood in the doorway, watching the two of them with a tired smile. "She's been talking about it all week. I think she's more excited about decorating her room than anything else."

"She's got a plan, huh?" Trench asked.

"She always has a plan," Kate said. "Have fun. Call if you need anything."

He promised he would, then carried Susanna's bag to the car while she narrated the events of the last few weeks of first grade. She'd gotten a sticker for helping a classmate find a lost pencil, had read an entire chapter book on her own ("It was about a dog who goes to space!"), and learned how to spell "because" without singing it. They made it three blocks before she announced, "I like summer better."

"Can't blame you," he said. "What's not to like about ice cream and staying up past bedtime?"

She giggled, and the knot in his chest unwound a little more.

When they got to the brownstone, Trench let her be the first to unlock the door.

"Whoa," Susanna breathed as she stepped inside. She started to inspect every room like a tiny, polite inspector general—running her hands over the banister, peeking into the kitchen, tapping experimentally at the reading nook under the stairs.

"Still a work in progress," he said. "But your room's upstairs. You can pick the paint color tomorrow if you want."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Even purple?"

"Even purple," he promised.

They dropped off her bag in the guest room—soon to be hers, once she'd made all the decisions a nearly-second-grader had to make. Then, as promised, they went out to dinner—Susanna chose pancakes, because they were "a breakfast-dinner food," and Trench didn't argue.

That night, after she changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth without too much coaxing, Susanna stood at the edge of the bed and held up one of the paperbacks she'd packed. It had sparkly lettering and a cartoonish horse on the cover.

"I know it's a big-kid book," she said. "But will you still read it to me? Like you used to?"

Trench blinked against the sudden warmth in his eyes. "Of course."

She climbed under the blanket while he pulled a chair close, flipping to chapter one. Her voice joined in halfway through, correcting his mispronunciations of the horse's name and whispering plot predictions with the gravity of a seasoned reader. By the time he closed the book, her eyes were half-lidded.

"I missed this," she mumbled.

"Me too," he whispered.


Saturday morning, they hit the home goods store early, armed with a list that had somehow grown during breakfast.

Susanna chose purple curtains with silver stars, a corkboard shaped like a cat, and—after much debate—two posters: one of outer space, and one of dinosaurs in ballet tutus.

Trench didn't say no to much. He reasoned that if your daughter asked for glow-in-the-dark stickers and a fuzzy rug that looked like moss, you said yes. You said yes while it still mattered.

At checkout, she slipped her hand into his. "You're gonna help me hang everything, right?"

"I wouldn't dare do it without you."

"Good," she said, satisfied. "You need my artistic vision."


Darling arrived right on time Sunday morning, casual in jeans and a short-sleeve button-up that somehow made him look even more like a scientist pretending to be normal.

Susanna stared at him for a second before her face lit up in recognition.

"You're the guy from Dad's work! You helped when I was sick!"

Darling smiled, just a little sheepish. "That's me. Doctor Casper Darling, at your service."

She giggled. "That's a funny name."

Trench coughed hard enough to cover his laugh.

They spent the afternoon wandering a corner of Central Park — not all of it, because not even Darling's boundless enthusiasm and Susanna's youthful energy could make that happen in a few hours. But there were turtles to point out, rocks to climb, and a hot dog stand that may as well have been a Michelin restaurant as far as Susanna was concerned.

When Kate arrived that evening to pick her up, Susanna was visibly reluctant.

Trench knelt beside her at the door. "Hey, bug. I know it feels short. But we'll see each other again real soon, okay?"

She sniffed, nodding hard. Then she hugged him tight enough to almost knock the air out of him — and, to Trench's surprise, pivoted and hugged Darling too.

"Bye, Doctor Darling!"

Darling looked utterly charmed.

Later that night, after Susanna was gone and the house felt too quiet again, Trench and Darling sat over leftovers at the kitchen table.

Darling toyed with his fork for a second before glancing up. "I meant what I said earlier."

"About what?"

He smiled faintly. "Seeing you with Susanna. You're... you're a damn good dad, Zach. I like seeing it."

Trench sat back, warmth settling deep in his chest.

"Yeah," he said, after a long moment. "Me too."