"Well, I thought I could pick you up, and we could both go see Sarah," Barbara explained calmly. She also regretted having never called the other woman 'Mom.' For the life of her, she couldn't start now--not after losing her. "And don't hem and haw about it, I'm already on my way over. In fact, I'm turning onto your street now. I can circle, or I can find a parking space..."
She loved her father more than anyone in the known universe. He had been her constant, and she hadn't been the easiest daughter to deal with, both in her rebellious phase and in those grueling emotional months after Sarah's death and her paralysis. "I picked us up some coffee and donuts too."