"Dad, would you drive me to the mall?"

Dean was already in a bad mood. It was only seven o'clock in the morning when the blare of rock-and-roll began to reverberate through the walls. He'd managed--barely--after Susan died, becoming both Mom and Dad to the twins. No one warned him about teenagers.

Saturdays were sacred; the only day he had off from two, gruelling jobs. He liked to sleep in, but someone always wanted something. Ricky had just passed his driver's test and constantly bugged Dean to borrow the car. Jenny looked more like her mother every day, reminding him how deeply he missed his wife.

In between the incessant phone calls and texts, Jenny was cooking breakfast--his favourite.

"Please, Daddy," Jenny whispered, her light, blue eyes begging.

"Sure," Dean said, dropping keys and money on the counter. "Get your brother to drive you."