It lasted nine days.
My father considered that quite impressive for an October flower.
Travis never gave another public speech about being Kaylee’s father.
He wasn’t that kind of man.
But his behavior changed in small, meaningful ways.
He began attending parent-teacher conferences instead of waiting in the truck.
He talked directly with her teachers, asked about her classes, and helped her plan for college.
He no longer hesitated when someone referred to Kaylee as his daughter.
The following Saturday, he drove to Dad’s farm and repaired the broken latch on the equipment shed.
Dad hadn’t asked.
Travis simply showed up with his tools.
Later, my father told me they barely spoke.
They fixed the latch, sat on the tailgate of Travis’s pickup, and drank coffee from an old thermos.
Eventually, Dad said:
“She’s a good girl.”
Travis nodded.
“She really is.”
That was their entire conversation.
