She used to sit on his lap as they drove through town. Honking the horn and waving at people. Folks waved back.

Little girl would place her hands on the big steering wheel with her father’s over them. They’d turn it loosely, nothing sharp. Laughed as the Dodge spit and spattered, made noises, nothing quiet about it. 

They’d pull up and park it at Dog N Suds. Daddy placed the speaker on the half rowed down window. He let his little girl place the order.

We want two dogs with no ketchup and two root beers. She looked up at Dad.

Go on. Tell him what else you want, Daddy said.

Two bags of barbecue potato chips.

Well that be all Miss? The voice asked.

His daughter leaned towards the speaker and said that’ll do it. The kid with pigtails looked up at her parent for his approval. He nodded. Smiled. Used shirt sleeves for napkins. Crusty mustard on flannel.

They drove back through town. His hands on hers. Drove past the barber shop and Jewel grocery store. Went around the corner where Paddy’s Pub stood. Mom was out on the sidewalk spraying off chalk drawings.

There you go, kid. Dad said as he leaned over to open her door. I’ll see you real soon.

I love you, Daddy.

I love you too, squirt.

She hugged him sideways.

He drove off. Heading West.