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• Daddy Is my Valentines Baby Grow Pink
• Happy Valentine’s Day Wishes for Father
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• Daddy Is My Valentine Silhouette

We can leave it at that. They sped up Broadway to Fabrika over in the Hollywood District not talking, wipers on intermittent, and JoBecca absentmindedly humming along with the easy-listening love songs of Radio Ten-Ten, as if everything, one day, would be a-okay. The following Tuesday, in her room, where the bed was made and even the study desk organized, Trinity gave Bailey the big-sister scoop on valentines.

They sorted through a heap of cards about them on the bed. Trinity clicked a ballpen, opening a Pee Chee folder with a tablet tucked under the right flap. Don't you think so? Everything kinda looks, you know, out of date.

Trinity kept scribbling line after line and was, in fact, on a second page. From her assortment pack of fifty valentines, she might give out thirty, Bailey could choose from the other twenty, and they could save any leftovers for next year. Trinity clicked the ballpen. Who else? So Libby gets the best valentine and then Reed gets the next best. Isn't that easy? And you can have the leftovers, twenty of 'em. Just then both sisters heard their mom quit the kitchen and go to the foyer. The doorbell had chimed. The sisters reluctantly abandoned the valentines semi-sorted in two piles and marched through hallway, down stairs, and out the open front door.

Beyond the knee-high boxwood hedge, on the twin strips of driveway concrete, showroom polished, sat an SUV, a silver BMW one. Trinity saw her dad stop smiling like he had expected people to be happier. We haven't even bought the tickets. Four-wheel drive.

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All the time. No road. No problem. We only have two weeks. I want to fly there. En-ti-en-de u-sted? Trinity wanted to say again, What about riding in the new car? She looked to Bailey, but her sister was by the car, too short to peek in the tinted windows and see anything, but content to daub her fingers over its chrome, as if she knew that she might leave the first human marks on the car's silvered edges. Trinity caught her sister's eye and ignored the standoff between her parents. Trinity gave her a hard squint.

Bailey had to know when to leave their parents alone. Friday the thirteenth, the day before Valentine's Day, came to Irving School and Trinity and others, almost all girls, were busy giving out valentines. Tucked in her JanSport book bag, Trinity, mid-afternoon, had heart-emblazoned cards by the dozens, possibly more than she had handed over to Kezia, to Reed, to Camela, to all the others straggling on the way to school, chatting by lockers in the hall, doodling in the classroom, running on the playground, or laughing in the lunchroom.

Then, impossibly, Clayton, the moon-eyed guy she had worked at ignoring since sometime before Christmas, came up to her with an envelope. She winced. He looked even wider in his baggy cargo pants. But he stood there, blocking her, the moon eyes filled with expectation.

She felt uncomfortable. Did he want her to open the valentine right there? This will be one of the first. Trinity's thumb bent the envelope. Boys were so icky! Clayton was not the worst, but all of them were rough and jumped about like puppy dogs. Girls, naturally, were cool and calm. Yes, girls were calm.

Girls were simply more mature.

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She'd show Clayton's card to Bailey at home. A valentine from a boy. It really was Friday the thirteenth. After she got home, the two sisters sat on the bed in Trinity's room, a day's haul of valentines gathered on the slipcover. A valentine from a boy," Trinity said, unwilling to open the envelope from Moon Eyes.

Suddenly, the phone was ringing and Trinity dashed downstairs to pick up in the kitchen, but it stopped. Her mom was on the remote in the parlor. Unseen, behind the kitchen wall, she wanted to hear more. Could be that it's something else.

I didn't know. Trinity eyed with longing the wall phone by her side. She could only hear one side of the conversation. She leaned on the wall, her hands balled up, and breathing so softly she might as well have been one of the Dolls Around the World grown life-size. Or do you want me to wait? This was serious, really serious. Things were bothering Steve so much. You rest well, you hear? And don't worry 'bout the girls, I'll tell them you're away for a while.

Her eyes and nostrils widened; she pursed her lips.

Her dad was staying away tonight. She unclinched her hands and pressed them flat against her legs and kept leaning on the wall. Her mom had put down the receiver. Trinity's legs were aquiver as if she should be sneaking out the kitchen. But she had to stay put; she had to be busy. She sprang to the humming fridge, opened the door, keeping an ear cocked toward the hallway.

No Diet Cokes. Nothing else she liked. That was okay for JoBecca rushing up the stairs meant Trinity could now safely tiptoe out. In the second-floor hallway, muffled sobbing came from her parents' room. Then she surprised Bailey, who evidently had been reading every one of Trinity's valentines.