Palmer was sitting on the grass, watching nearby students practicing Tennis, while she ate a package of Graham Crackers. She couldn't stop thinking about her father, which a school therapist had told her was understandable, considering the recent events. They'd told her, "when someone dies, we often spend a lot more time thinking about them than we did while they were still with us", and Palmer admitted that, yeah, when he was still here, she had rarely thought about him. She heard the sound of shoes approaching her, and looked to her right to see Anita seating herself, eating nachos from a cardboard container clearly from a food truck.

"Watcha doin'?" she asked.

"Watching people play Tennis," Palmer said.

"Everything okay?"

"...I don't know," Palmer said, "I was at my moms house this past weekend, to help her with some stuff regarding my dad, and I learned that my sister was his favorite. It's been messing with me ever since. What's worse is how it wasn't even all that surprising. I mean, he rarely came to anything I did, extracurricular based, and after a certain age we just didn't speak much at all. I never really understood why, and I just sorta banked on the idea that we'd have time to sort that all out. Never occurred to me that that might not in fact be a possibility."

Anita nodded and scooped more nachos in her mouth, chewed, then looked at the Tennis players and then back at Palmer. She reached over and put a hand on her leg, smiling.

"What happened?" she asked, "At your moms? Tell me about it."

Palmer returned the smile, and sighed.

"Alright," she said.

                                                                       ***

The previous weekend, Palmer had gone back down to her mothers to help her deal with some paperwork and other things regarding their fathers death. Dodie stayed in her bedroom the whole time, which Palmer didn't mind, considering she wouldn't have time to spend with her anyway, as her mother was keeping her busy. As they sifted through box after box of paperwork - wills, deeds, medical records and more - Palmer came across a small beige photo album.

"What is this?" she asked, slowly opening it.

"It's a photo album," Regina said.

"Well, obviously," Palmer said, making her mom chuckle as she added, "I just mean why haven't I ever seen it? It's not familiar in the slightest."

"Parents are allowed to keep some private things, aren't they?" Regina asked as she opened up a small envelope and started reading through the letter inside.

"What if it's...porn?" Palmer asked, and her mom threw her head back and cackled.

"I highly doubt it's porn, but if it is, then I apologize for subjecting you to your fathers taste in adult materials," Regina said, making Palmer laugh a little. It was nice, just the two of them, trying to make the mood lighter when dealing with such an upsetting situation. Despite the possibility of discovering her deceased dads whacking material, Palmer opened the photo album anyway.

"Oh," she said, "it's just pictures of us."

"I told you it wouldn't be porn. Nobody puts porn in a photo album," Regina replied.

"Some people are classy," Palmer stated as she started to slowly flip through the pages, "...these are not photos I've ever seen, I don't think. These must have been his personal favorites or something. I remember when these were taken, I've just never seen them."

The photos ranged from vacation shots to shots from around the house to a handful of birthday shots, but there was one that caught Palmer's attention above all the rest, and that was the last photo in the album. It was of Dodie, and she was dressed as a dinosaur for Halloween. She looked to be about 4, and it was an extremely cute image. She had a plastic pumpkin pail grasped in her costumed hand, and she was standing on their back patio. But it wasn't the photo that caught Palmer's attention, no, it was the scrawled hand written words beside it that did. She recognized it as her fathers handwriting immediately.

                                                                  "My favorite."

And Palmer felt herself shrivel up a little inside. She already had enough of a complex about her relationship with her father - and thus her inherent worth and value as a person because of it - but now...this just added fuel to the fires of insecurity.

                                                                         ***

"That's it? It just said 'my favorite'?" Anita asked, the both of them now lying on their backs on the grass.

"Yeah. I always had a sneaking suspicion, and it wasn't so much a suspicion as it was a blatant certainty, but...seeing it spelled out, literally, like that...it just kinda hurt. My dad and I used to be close when I was little, but I don't know what happened. As I got older, he seemed to have no interest in me, and instead focused primarily on my sister. It was almost like he only liked us when we were little girls."

"Most men, even fathers, don't know how to deal with adolescent women," Anita said, "when my mom told my dad that I had my first period, he just shrugged and said 'well, these things happen'."

Palmer laughed, she couldn't help it, and she appreciated having Anita around to raise her spirits.

"I'm just saying," Anita continued, "I wouldn't take it personally."

"My sister is his favorite and I'm supposed to not take that personally?" Palmer asked.

"Sounds stupid when you say it, but sure," Anita replied, making Palmer smile.

Maybe Anita was right. Maybe she shouldn't take it personally. After all, after a while, she had even stopped trying to put in any effort to have a relationship with him. It wasn't like they never spoke, or they argued, or had any kind of bad relationship. They were friendly with one another, they hugged, they did talk. But it felt more like a relative she didn't see very often than a father she should know very well. Either way, Palmer knew she had to get her mind off it.

What she didn't know, however, was that Dodie couldn't get her mind off it.

                                                                         ***

"Palmer says I was dads favorite," Dodie said the morning after Palmer had left to go back to college. She was sitting in the living room, eating cereal and watching an educational show. Regina was getting her lunch ready for school in the kitchen, but upon hearing this, she stopped and immediately joined Dodie in the living room.

"She did what now?"

"She says I was dads favorite," Dodie repeated, "she said she found a photo book and it said I was dads favorite in it."

"You know, I'm starting to wish you two were the kind of sisters who couldn't stand one another," Regina mumbled, sitting down on the couch, "...does that bother you? Knowing that you were his favorite?"

"Why was I his favorite?"

"...Palmer reminded him of his sister," Regina said, "He and his sister did not get along, and you may have noticed she didn't show up for the services. I think it just...made him uncomfortable. He felt bad about it, if that means anything. He'd tell me constantly how he'd wish he could be closer with her, and how he could be a better dad to her, but he was never really able to overcome that sisterly connection. You, on the other hand, reminded him of me. He loved me, so he adored you."

"...but Palmer's good," Dodie said, "I like her."

"Well yes, and he did love her, she was his daughter too, but...Dodie, adults are stupid. I'm not gonna be cliche and say 'oh adulthood is complicated' because it isn't and relationships aren't complex or anything. It's actually all very simple, but people tend to overthink and overanalyze things. He loved her. Especially when she was your age, he loved her to death. A lot of people assume their parents play favorites, if they have siblings. Your father was just...more open about it, I guess."

Regina stood up and headed back into the kitchen to finish preparing Dodie's lunchbox. Dodie finished eating and watched her show in silence, thinking about her father, and about her sister. What had been so bad about her fathers sister that he couldn't stand being around his own daughter, just because they were somewhat alike? She didn't understand.

"Here you go," Regina said as she came back into the living room, lunchbox in hand, "put that in your bookbag."

Dodie should've felt happy about being a favorite, but instead she felt ashamed, like she was somehow taking their father away from Palmer in an entirely different way. She tucked the lunchbox into her bookbag and then clipped it shut. Maybe a good day at school would take her mind off the situation, but she doubted it. She thought about their father all the time.

                                                                          ***

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm not my fathers favorite," Arthur said.

Arthur, Anita and Palmer were all seated in the cafeteria, having ordered in a pizza. They had procured a little table in the corner, far enough away to drive any potential interest in their food off. Anita reached for yet another slice and took a bite as Arthur wiped his mouth on a napkin and shrugged.

"Which is somehow even more depressing, as I don't even have siblings," Arthur said, making Anita almost choke on her food.

"Damn dude, that is sad," she mumbled, making Palmer laugh a little.

"I just feel like he never knew me and he never seemed all that interested in knowing me," Palmer said, "like...like he was somehow ashamed of me or something. Like I did something at some early age to put him off of me entirely for the rest of his life."

"Even if you did, which I doubt, I'm certain it wasn't intentional," Anita said.

"Yeah, kids are not responsible for their parents shortcomings," Arthur said.

Just then a guy in a sweater and tan slacks walked up to the table and tapped Palmer on the shoulder. She looked up at him.

"Yeah?" she asked, pushing pizza crust in her mouth.

"You have a phone call," he said.

Palmer got up and followed him to the nearby phone, then watched as he walked away. She picked up the phone and lifted the receiver to her face.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I don't think I'm dads favorite," Dodie said.

"Oh yeah?" Palmer asked, smirking, happy to hear from her little sister, "and what makes you say that?"

"Because if I were dads favorite, he wouldn't have hid that away," Dodie said, "He would've made it really obvious, right? He wouldn't have hidden it in a box somewhere that nobody could find or see."

"I don't know, maybe he did it so it wouldn't hurt my feelings," Palmer said, "I'm not about to try and understand dad now. We never understood eachother before."

"...well, even if I was his favorite, you're my favorite, so it all evens out," Dodie said, and Palmer felt her heart swell. She had to try hard to keep herself from crying right there in the cafeteria. After the sisters said their goodbyes, Palmer instead left and headed out into the hall, allowing herself to cry a little there. When she was done, she came back inside, rejoined her friends, and continued eating her pizza. At least she was a favorite to someone.

                                                                           ***

The thing is...Regina knew the truth.

Her husband loved both his daughters, and he may have openly called Dodie his favorite, but she also knew that, secretly, he adored Palmer. Even if she reminded him of his estranged sister, he still adored her. He'd always loved his sister, and having Palmer was sort of like having his sister back. It was tough, sure, but it was also wonderful. The trouble was...he didn't know how to handle her. And as she got older, as she became more of her own woman and not so much daddy's little girl, he began to see the person she would be, and while proud, he was, again, unsure of how to approach her.

Lying in bed the night Palmer left again for school, Regina flipped through the little photo album by herself, smiling at all the wonderful memories captured within in, and when she came to the back of the book - the photo of Dodie during Halloween - she pulled that photo off the page and revealed the photo underneath it. Something Palmer somehow hadn't noticed. The photo underneath was of her husbands sister, also during Halloween, when they were kids. She was dressed as a pirate, and that was the photo that the phrasing had originally belonged to.

Regina sighed and set the book back down on the bedside table, shut her lamp off and rested her head on her pillow.

"Fuck," she mumbled, "...what a mess family is."