1. 

Richard isn’t sure where he and Melissa had gone wrong, only that they had. Robin had always been, if not a happy child, but one bursting at the seams to explode onto an unsuspecting world. He had always pegged it as the best parts that he and Melissa had needed to give up when they became parents. 

They had shown Robin every single picture from their travels, told her every tale of experiencing San Francisco, and brought her around their friends when they rolled through. They had taught her to always question what she was told, no matter the source. Especially the source. That she was never to believe she was deserving of any less than any person. To be ready to swing when the world told her to sit. 

Yet slowly and bit by bit he had watched her draw inside herself as the world kept telling her no. Taking her freedom from her one disappointment at a time. Until that fateful day they had, after the Byers boy and Barbara had gone missing. Her own parents. It was like a light flipped behind her eyes to never go on again. They had spent so much time thinking Robin was the best of them to ever consider what that meant. 

Melissa had reacted badly. Her and Robin had always been combative with each other but now they became downright spiteful. But what really could they have expected? They had raised her to be the best of what they had left behind. 

Richard knows he shouldn’t complain. After a youth traveling the country in a van, being out on the roads, not being a person to settle, he had become just another punch card. A punch card that needed more and more hours just to stay afloat. He remembered storming out of his parent’s house at 18, claiming he wouldn’t ever be a “slave to money” like they were. 

And now he drove by their house every weekend after picking up an extra shift at the same plant his dad worked. The same extra shift that let him buy their extra groceries and extra medicine. The pension from the plant simply wasn’t enough, no matter what his father claimed. And after surviving World War II, and then Korea, and thirty extra years at a plant…

It was the very least he could do, if not the only thing. It was quite a life, he usually thought to himself when his bones felt more exhausted than the previous day, but it was the one he had to be satisfied with. He had spent a lifetime wanting to do nothing more than rebel against everything Hawkins represented, and it had brought him right back. Working shifts on a summer weekend and grateful he was picked because others weren’t so lucky. 

Because those shifts also helped to put just a tiny bit extra away for Robin’s college fund. A college fund that she didn't know about and he was waiting to give with her so that she could fly where he hadn't. A college fund that he thankfully hadn’t needed to dip into after the fire that absolutely wasn’t a fire at that capitalist forsaken mall. 

He pulled into the house that kept him chained in Hawkins and noticed that, for once, Robin appeared to be home. Her bike was there at least. In the month since the fire it had become a rare thing indeed to see Robin, and even rarer for her to not be with that boy. 

Walking up to the porch, he noticed that Robin was sitting on it. And, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, a brand new Walkman in her lap. He didn’t exactly need to be a genius to know where she got that from. 

“Long time no see,” he said, taking a seat next to her. Unexpectedly, and it pained him how much it was, she smiled up at him, “You been out here long?”

“Nope,” Robin said, leaning against him, “Steve just dropped me off about ten minutes ago. Mom knows I’m here, I just have missed seeing you.” 

He doesn’t voice how Robin apparently hasn’t extended that to her mom. At least they weren’t fighting. 

“Well if you didn’t spend all of your time with Steve, maybe you’d see me more,” he said with a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Although, I seem to remember hearing you ranting in your room about a Steve that you hated who was your new coworker…”

He trailed off as Robin groaned then laughed. 

“He’s kind of grown on me,” she said, and Richard didn’t even need to see her face to know the smile on it, “He also fully knows how much I used to hate him.”

The fondness in her voice causes the light labeled “fatherly duties” in the back of his head to flicker. 

“Are you two being safe?” he asked, as Robin pulls away just slightly to look at him, not understanding, “Wait, have we not had the talk ? Oh this will be embarrassing if this is the first time you hear about-“

“Ew, Dad, no,” Robin said, but she doesn’t sound angry or mortified. Instead, she’s laughing, as if this is simply one big joke, “It’s not like that. It…”

She trailed off for a second as an unsure look goes across her face. He just pokes her, their silent message for years that she can trust him. 

“Are you okay with that?” she asked, looking down at the ground, “Me just being…friends with Steve?”

“Of course,” he said, quirking an eyebrow as Robin sighed in relief. Why wouldn’t he be okay with Robin having a friend? Where had they gone so wrong that she believed that? 

It was another twenty minutes that they sat and talked on the porch before heading inside. It’ll be another couple of years before he understands what Robin was actually asking. 

2. 

It was a rare Saturday that Richard wasn’t working, and The Boy was sitting in his kitchen next to Robin. Three months ago this would have been incredibly weird, incredibly suspicious, and he would have had half a mind about throwing him out. Over the last four years he had only heard bad things about him, a lot of them from Robin. Then there was the talk around town about how he was the typical jock that liked to throw his Dad’s money around, and all in all was Not A Good Person.

Yet here he was, laughing at a joke Robin made as they looked over the classifieds. Robin was perched sideways on a chair, hair tamed in only the way that she could where it still was sticking out in every direction. Across from her, Steve sat, head bent over the paper. Incredibly well put together as always. Richard leaned against the door frame after pouring himself a cup of coffee, noticing entries on the paper circled in red, others crossed off.

“Movie theater?” Steve suggested, pointing at a tiny ad. “Free popcorn if you work weekends.”

“Pass. Been there, done that, it’s boring,” Robin said, and boy did Richard remember her being let down at that job. “Also, remember how you almost threw up during Back to the Future? Yeah. Not happening.”

Steve made a face, somewhere between offended and sheepish. “That was motion sickness, Rob. Completely different.”

Before that Fourth of July, he held a pretty solid image of the Steve Harrington: Spoiled. Trouble. More hair than sense. Not that he went out of his way to care, but it was impossible not to hear. But that had been before he saw him at least once a week. Before Robin had spent a week jumping at every odd sound, pale and hollow-eyed. And then Steve had shown up one morning, politely knocking on their door. He wasn’t swaggering or smirking. He had wanted to see how his friend was doing. 

He had watched as Steve always listened while she talked, never scolding her for her exuberance. Then how he had started to drive her to school every morning, without fail. How he never seemed to mind when Robin teased him mercilessly. How Robin never shrunk in on herself around him, and it never felt like she was guarding a part of her.

Watching them today, sifting through the classified, he saw two teenagers who acted like they had been in each other’s pockets for years. 

“What about the record store?” Steve said, pointing at another listing. “You like music, you’d be great. You’re always complaining about what I’m listening to..”

“I like music I pick,” Robin said as she twirled a pen in her fingers. “Not whatever random guy comes in looking for polka records. Besides, you’d just flirt with customers and forget to actually work.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I would not.”

“Yes, you would. It’s your default setting.”

Richard did his best not to snort. Steve didn’t argue further, just smiled in that self-aware way of his, the one that said he knew exactly who he was.

“Okay, fine,” Steve said, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head, “Do you have any ideas?"

“Actually, there is one,” Robin said, sliding a page over, “The video rental place? I know the manager listed in the ad, Keith. We could work there together.”

“Free movies,” Steve said, a scrutinizing look appearing on his face, “No polka.”

“No polka,” Robin agreed, the corners of her mouth tilting up as Steve smiled at her. Richard felt the air in the kitchen shift. It was something he had noticed with them before, something that usually happened when Steve would make her laugh so hard she forgot herself, or when they’d lean toward each other during a conversation like they were part of a universe that only circled each other. They never touched more than an occasional touch or playful shove, but it was impossible not to see how close they were. 

He wondered if either of them even realized it.

Robin set her pen down, leaning back in her chair. “The only problem is that you, objectively, have the world's worst taste in movies.” 

“And that’s important, how?” Steve asked, “They’re movies, I’ll watch them while I’m there.”

“You really think that just putting your mom down as a reference will be enough?”

“Oh not this again, Rob.”

Richard took a slow sip of his coffee, letting their banter wash over him. It was so nice hearing his little girl so carefree. Teasing and grinning like the weight had lifted just enough for her to breathe. And the person responsible, against every story he had heard, was That Harrington Boy.

Eventually, Robin shoved her chair back with a squeak. “Alright, let’s check out the video store. I think I can talk Keith into forgetting you’re a douchebag.”

Steve just rolled his eyes at her in response.

“Maybe the record place too,” Robin conceded as they stood, “But if we end up selling polka records, I’m blaming you.”

Steve grinned. “Deal.”

They gathered the papers, leaving a battlefield of coffee rings and ink circles behind. Robin grabbed her coat, tossing it over one shoulder, while Steve did that gentleman-ish thing where he held the door for her. He rolled his eyes with Robin as she passed. 

He followed them to the porch, leaning in the doorway. The late-morning sun was crisp, the air carrying that almost-fall smell of leaves just beginning to turn. Finishing his coffee on the porch sounded like a great idea.

“Bye, Dad!” Robin called, halfway down the steps already.

“See you, Mr. Buckley,” Steve added, giving a small wave.

Richard nodded. “Good luck with the polka.”

Robin groaned, but he caught the way Steve’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. As they reached the bottom step, Robin gave Steve a sudden shove. He stumbled off the last stair, arms windmilling, and turned back with a mock-offended look.

“Rude!”

She was laughing so hard she had to bend over, the sound bubbling out of her until she snorted. Her cheeks went pink instantly. Steve didn’t tease her for it. He just shook his head, smiling fondly. 

Richard stood there a long moment after they walked down the sidewalk, side by side. Maybe Steve wasn’t trouble after all. And maybe, just maybe, they were exactly what each other needed.

3. 

The morning light spilled into the Buckley living room, dust motes drifting in the air, the tree glowing faintly in the corner with its slightly lopsided star. It wasn’t that Richard wanted to give into the consumerism that had infested the holiday, but he instead focused on the happy memories it brought. Before he and his parents fought, before the world got tough, before every month was a struggle to keep going. 

Standing in the doorway, coffee in hand, the smell of pine mixing with the faint trace of cinnamon rolls Melissa had started, he hoped that Robin understood.

And sure enough that was the exact moment the front door opened and she appeared. Her hair was a bit messier than usual, obviously from just waking up and getting moving. If he listened hard he would be able to hear Steve’s car pulling out of the driveway.

“Morning, father!” Robin announced, a gigantic grin on her face as she un-looped the scarf that had been hanging from her neck. 

“So,” he said casually, "How did Meeting The Parents go?”

Robin froze mid-step, one hand on the strap of her bag she was about to drop onto the floor. A blush crept up her neck, just enough to make him bite back a smile.

“They’re fine,” she said too quickly, before recovering and heading toward the stairs.

“That convincing, huh?” Richard teased.

“I told you, it’s not like that,” she shot him a look over her shoulder, and Richard could see the full teenager on display: half warning, half embarrassment. Before he could say anything else, she bounded up the stairs, muttering something about changing clothes.

Richard sipped his coffee, the image lingering in his mind. He’d made the joke lightly, but the truth was, the idea of her meeting Steve’s parents felt like some kind of quiet milestone. Robin had spent many a night sleeping over at his house since the summer, before he and Melissa had even realized it had been happening. And yet she had never formally met Steve’s parents. With the Christmas season approaching, they had wanted to meet the girl who spent so much time at their house while they were away. Which was another thing: no one was exactly sure what they were. Friends? Partners in crime? Something more? By the way Robin reacted she wasn’t entirely sure either, it seemed.

Yet they were more solid than any of their friends had been when they were at the height of free love in the late 60s.

Yesterday had only added to the suspicion. He and Melissa had stopped by the video rental store where Robin worked, just to surprise her before she went over to the Harrington’s that evening. Steve was there too, leaning against the counter while Robin chattered about some obscure French film they’d gotten in stock. She’d been talking a mile a minute, bouncing from one tangent to another, hands flying in the air, and Steve…

Steve had just stood there, smiling. Not the half-bored, polite smile people wore when they were waiting for you to finish talking, but the kind that said he was happy just to be in the same orbit.

Melissa had noticed it too. She’d given Richard one of her you see this, right? looks, eyebrows raised. She was often a little hard on Robin about her rambling, how she never seemed to pick up on other people’s cues that maybe they didn’t want to listen to her. But with Steve, none of that seemed to matter. He didn’t ask her to keep it simple, or to move on to something else. He wanted all of it.

He smiled to himself, Robin’s noise from her room micing with the hum of the heater and Melissa moving around in the kitchen. His gaze fell on the tree, and the small amount of presents piled at its base. It had been a tight year; money never seemed to stretch far enough. He had managed something for Robin, something for Melissa…and something for Steve.

It wasn’t anything big, just a good wool hat and a pair of gloves. The boy never seemed to have his own. But it felt important, somehow, to have something there for him. He had become such a part of Robin’s life, such a part of making her happy, that it was as if he had always been a part of their family.

Robin reappeared, now wearing one of Melissa’s oversized sweaters, hair combed as much as she ever did.

“Steve’s coming by later?” Richard asked lightly.

“He did promise,” she said, smiling and avoiding his eyes as she walked into the kitchen. He braced himself for the usual tension that seemed to hang between them. Melissa trying her best to mellow Robin out, and Robin’s instinct to bristle.

But none came. He walked over to the kitchen, quietly to observe. Robin was leaning against the counter, head tipped toward her mother, laughing softly at something Melissa had said. Melissa reached out, brushed a stray piece of hair from Robin’s face, and Robin didn’t pull away. Instead Robin just laughed, rolled her eyes, and mentioned maybe needing a haircut.

It was small, and probably wouldn’t last, but once again Robin was acting more like the girl she was before the Byers boy had gone missing, before the fire that wasn’t a fire at the mall. Before they had needed to become the parents they never wanted to be.

Maybe, just maybe, things were turning out alright.

4. 

When he thought back on it, the Spring Break trip had felt like a good idea at the time. 

He and Melissa hadn’t had a proper vacation in years. Money had been incredibly tight ever since Robin had started school, and his parents had needed to retire. Even this past year was harder than normal, the extra factory shifts barely covering the difference. And then shortly after the beginning of the year the company had landed a big contract. Small bonuses, a small pay bump, and the offer of a few extra paid vacation days had been handed down.

It wasn’t much, not at all, but for once he had more than just barely enough breathing room. With his extra money they could afford for Melissa to take a few days off as well, and get themselves away for a bit. Robin had been more than happy to see them off, not at all fussed to be left alone. She had planned on working as much as possible over the break, putting away every extra dollar for college. 

And though he and Melissa wouldn’t admit it outright, they knew that she would be spending most of her time with Steve. So they had given her a hug goodbye, made sure that Robin had the phone number of the motel they were staying at, gotten a promise not to burn the house down, and set off for a few days of relaxation.

But when they pulled back into Hawkins that Sunday evening, the air reeked faintly of smoke, and the horizon glowed the wrong kind of orange. News reports called it “a series of unrelated fires.” There were talks about “the canyon that erupted through town.” People weren’t using words like “unrelated.”

And Robin… Robin was fine. Physically. The look on her face was so much the same as it had been those first few days after the fire that wasn’t a fire not even a year previous. She’d hugged Melissa too tightly at the door, brushed off questions, and then sat down next to Steve on the couch. It was then that Richard noticed that Steve also had a slightly haunted look on his face, a weariness that had always been under the surface but he had hidden so well.

It was easy to notice the way that Robin’s hand always held onto Steve’s arm as they talked, the way that she would lean slightly into him if they asked a question that made her uncomfortable. How she kept putting herself between her parents questions and Steve, even innocent ones.

She was protecting him, Richard realized.

After a day or two of noticing this, he decided that it was finally time to have a talk with Steve. One that his father probably would have had the first week he met the boy.

He caught Steve outside of the gym late in the afternoon, he and Robin had been helping with the donation drive effort. He saw him looking wistfully at Robin from the side of his car, who was over by the school’s playground with another girl with deep red hair.

“Got a minute?” Richard asked, handing him a soda he had grabbed inside.

Steve straightened immediately. “Yeah, of course.”

Richard joined him leaning against his car, hands in his pockets. “I’m just going to ask this straight. Is something going on between you and my daughter?”

Steve didn’t even flinch, not that Richard had expected him to. 

“No sir,” he said, confident, and then hesitated, “Not like that. We just had a tough week. Robin…well she watched me basically get dumped after everything happened.”

Richard hummed. He had heard whispers about Steve constantly being seen around town with various other girls, and yet he and Robin lived in each other’s pocket. There was more to the story, he knew that. But after what he got up to in his youth his only concern was that Robin wasn’t hurt.

Steve took a deep breath, took a quick drink of the soda, and said, “She’s basically been protecting me since. You know how she hovers.”

No, not really Richard thought she only does that with you.

“Yeah, that does sound like her,” he said, “The protecting thing.”

Steve smiled, faintly, looking over to where Robin was laughing with the redhead, “Yeah. She’s…Robin.”

Richard nodded. Almost satisfied. He just had one more question, one that seemed vitally important now that it appeared as if the world was splitting in two.

“Are you going to break my little girl’s heart?”

Steve turned to face him fully, eyes steady. “No, sir. That would be impossible.”

It was such an odd answer, Richard thought. It was said like a fact, something true and simple. And yet it felt like Steve was answering a question that hadn’t been asked. As if there was more to his answer than he realized. 

Richard clapped him lightly on the shoulder, the gesture enough to make Steve look a little surprised. “Alright, then.”

“Hey, Dingus, you ready to go?” Robin’s voice sounded as she came running up, for the first time noticing Richard there as well. He gave her a quick hug, and then excused himself to drive home. As he got in his car he saw Robin laughing at something Steve said, looking lighter by about ten years.

That evening was the first quiet night that they’d had since returning to town. He had been lucky that the plant had been on the outskirts of town, so he still had a job. Not everyone had been so lucky. Melissa had gone to bed an hour ago after they had a hushed conversation about maybe needing to move. He had work in the morning, and he should be asleep, but there was something telling him to wait just a little longer.

His feeling was confirmed when he noticed Robin sleepily walking down the stairs and then into the kitchen. Half a moment later she was in the living room, a glass of milk in her hand, not even acting surprised to see him.

“You’re up late,” she said, sitting down on the couch next to him.

“Could say the same about you,” he replied, poking her with his foot and getting a smile in return.

“Steve said that you and he had a talk,” Robin said after taking a sip, “But he was cagey about what.”

“I asked him if he was going to break my little girl’s heart,” he said, enjoying how she sputtered and turned a deep red, “He assured me that it would be impossible.”

“Huh,” was all Robin said for a second, taking another sip. For a moment the air between them seemed like it was supposed to be heavy, as if a decision needed to be made.

“Dad, I, well,” Robin stopped and fidgeted for a second before tightening her fingers around the glass, “It’s not…me and Steve? It’s not like you and mom…you know?”

They were silent for a second. He knew there was more that she was wanting to say, but the words simply weren’t ready for her.

“I know,” he said, even if he didn’t really. She needed to hear his belief in her, to be told things were okay. That even if he didn’t understand what was going on, he was there for her.

“Thank you,” Robin said, and then slowly drinking the rest of her glass. She eventually went back upstairs, the night finally calling to the both of them.

No, he didn’t know. But it was enough for now.

5.

It was incredible the difference a year made. This time the previous year he wasn’t sure if they would make it to the next, or if it wouldn’t be better to leave Hawkins to never look back. But now, as Richard looked over to Melissa in the passenger seat, it seemed like such a distant memory. The sun was just starting to dip low, the highway still reflecting the last bit of light as their finally empty car brought them back home.

An hour previous it had been filled with the last of the boxes they were helping Robin and Steve move into their new apartment. Through everything, starting now he realized with the fire that wasn’t a fire and the town splitting in two, Robin had gotten into college one year later than planned. Communications, or “communicating, or something like that,” as she’d put it, rolling her eyes at her own uncertainty, being her choice of major.

All Richard cared about was that she had turned out one step better than they had.

But they now lived what was only a few miles away, an hour at most, but it felt like forever. It was something already settling in. It made him appreciate his parents just a bit more.

“You know,” Richard said, glancing at Melissa for a quick second before turning his eyes back to the road, “I keep thinking about that summer I followed you halfway across the country. How my old man thought I was nuts.”

Melissa smiled faintly. Her hands were folded almost perfectly in her lap, just like Robin did when she was pretended she wasn’t anxious. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

“You were worth it.”

And she was. And the life that had come after.

And Steve had followed Robin. Not in some big romantic declaration, at least not according to either of them. Robin had simply announced that she had got into her program, and then the next week Steve casually mentioned he had gotten a job in the same city as her school. His father had come through for once, landing him a job at a bank branch nearby.

And that was it. A fact and nothing more.

Melissa sighed, her hands finally unspooling. One reached up and started to play with her hair. 

“I’m worried she’s never coming back.”

“She’s only a few miles away,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. Sure enough the exit for Hawkins was already coming up.

“That’s not what I mean,” Melissa said, and he could feel her body turning towards him, “I wasn’t the best mother, Richard.”

He tightened his grip on the wheel, not sharply, just enough to ground himself. “I don’t buy that.”

“No one has wanted to say it but it’s true,” Melissa said, sighing, “I kept expecting her to be perfect, to do things how I would, to be me and you. The entire time I was missing the person she was, this entire human yearning for her mother to just accept her. You saw how fast she packed up! She already looked like she was home when she’s an hour away!”

“She didn’t want to let you go when we left,” Richard interrupted, his voice gentler now. “You think I missed that? She hugged you like she was afraid we’d disappear.”

He heard her sigh, and this time he could place the guilt that it carried. She didn’t say anything though, so he took it as a cue to continue.

“Haven’t you noticed over the last two years how often she seeks you out,” he said, “Sure, things were rough for a bit, but things changed. She found her purpose while we were worrying that we had done too much, smothered her even. And then she found you again. You were the one she told about her and Steve getting the apartment. Think I missed that? How could you?”

Melissa hummed in response. For a while, the only sound was the hum of the tires on asphalt. Suddenly, she barked out a laugh.

“You think they’ll ever admit they’re more than friends?” Melissa asked, almost idly, after getting herself back under control.

Richard smirked. “If they’re anything like we were, it might take them a while. But we’ve got time.”

Melissa laughed fully again, leaning back in her seat. 

“How much do you want to bet there’s a message for us on our answering machine when we get home?” he asked.

“It would only make sense, it is the first time they’ve been on their own.”

Sure enough there were two waiting for them when they arrived. Each from the girl they had worried so much about.

6. 

Richard didn’t tell her.

Five years after they had moved away he’d been flipping channels one night in the fall and stopped cold at the sight of her on the TV: wind in her hair, a microphone in hand, her voice clear and sure over the noise of the crowd at the March on Washington. He didn’t tell her that the camera had panned back just far enough to catch her hand in hand with a girl with shocking red hair, or that he saw Steve standing on her other side, his arm steady at her back.

And he definitely didn’t tell her that, in that moment, all the years of half-finished conversations, all the things she’d been trying to tell him since she was a teenager, finally snapped into focus. The words she hadn’t been ready to say then were now right there, in front of the whole country. 

And that he had never felt more proud of the woman he had raised.

He kept it to himself, though, tucking it away for a day when it felt like he hadn’t done enough with his life. A reminder of the incredible person Robin had always been.

Then a few months later, on a gray winter morning, Steve made the drive to Hawkins. He had said on the phone that he had some “family thing” he needed to deal with, but would love to stop by. Richard was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. It was very easy to see that Steve’s family thing was nothing more than an excuse.

Which is why he was sitting on the porch as Steve pulled up, a pot of coffee waiting. He knew this would be the first and only stop Steve made that day. 

They joked around for a bit, catching up and speaking to each other like the adults they were. An easy companionship built from caring for the same people. After a bit though, Steve shifted in his chair, and cleared his throat. 

“So, uh… I wanted to ask you something,” Steve said, and for the first time Richard noticed that he seemed a bit nervous. He just raised an eyebrow in response.

“Go on.”

To his credit, Steve looked him square in the eye. 

“I want to marry Robin,” he said, “And, um… I guess I’m asking for your permission.”

“Son, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since you were eighteen.”

Richard chuckled and shook his head. It took him a second though to realize that Steve had more to say, so he took a sip of his coffee and motioned for him to continue.

“She’s been offered this corporate job in France,” he said, “She’s been waiting to tell you, but she’s afraid of taking it if I can’t come with her. They told her that if she was married they would cover the cost of her spouse coming with her, and she’s been upset since.”

“You know, I saw you two on TV back in the fall,” Richard said after a second, instead of giving Steve the answer he was so clearly waiting on.

“You did?” Steve asked, blinking.

“March on Washington,” Richard said. “You were holding hands, that girl with the red hair was with you. She was out there doing her thing, saying exactly what she meant to say. Robin had been trying to tell me she wasn’t straight for years, but that was the first time I realized what she meant. Seeing her there, with you?”

Richard took a breath.

“I’ve never been prouder of either of you.”

Steve took a small sip of his coffee and a deep breath.

“Mr. Buckley, Robin saved me,” he said, looking out at the lawn and at the steps Robin had shoved him down so many times, “I was going nowhere, I was done. I had nothing and then that summer job happened and I was on a completely different path. The least I can do is spend the rest of my life giving her the support and security that she needs to freely live her life.”

Richard surveyed him again, and realized there really only was one question that mattered.

“Do you love my daughter?”

“More than anything,” Steve said, not hesitating.

“That’s all that matters to me then,” Richard said, standing up and offering the younger man his hand.

It was about a year later that found them in a reception hall, all of their extended families and friends in attendance. Robin had moved ahead to France, leaving her then fiancé behind for a few months to tie up loose ends. The most important of them had been planning their wedding. Steve had flown over more than a few times before the day finally arrived. 

Watching them have their first dance, Richard couldn’t help but smile that even knowing the truth of their marriage it didn’t undermine the feelings they held a single bit. He knew of how Steve had shown up after the Fourth of July. He had heard Robin’s laughter around him, how it had become louder and more free. He had seen them hanging on each other for years, quietly being each other’s support in a world that was designed to wear you down. He had heard her voice, strong and loud in its convictions as she spoke in D.C. demanding nothing less than equality.

And now here they were: the result of choosing each other again, and again, and again. It didn’t matter that their love didn’t fit into the neat boxes the world tried to hand out. He smiled to himself as he realized that Robin really had taken on the best of him that he had put away.

Love was love, no matter the form it was in.

CODA

It was a Sunday that Melissa finally asked. 

They had just dropped their granddaughter, Bridget, back home with her parents after she had spent the weekend with them. As the six year old had lived most of her life in Paris, the quiet nature of Hawkins endlessly intrigued her. 

Shortly before the exit that would take them on the two hour journey home Melissa had reached up to turn the radio off and looked at him.

“Robin is a lesbian, isn’t she?”

Richard didn’t turn his head. 

“Yeah,” he said simply, and they both started to laugh.

Melissa glanced at him. “When did she tell you?”

“She never has,” he said. “But…” 

He let out a slow breath, thinking back. “When she was seventeen, she asked me something. Wanted to know if I’d be okay if she didn’t like Steve. I told her, of course I would. Took me a few years to realize exactly what she was trying to say without saying it.”

“What made you realize it?” Melissa asked as he merged onto the freeway.

“I saw her giving a speech at the March on Washington,” he said. Silence greeted him for a moment, before they both gave into laughter.

“I told Steve I knew, and he didn’t act like it meant anything,” he went on after they had calmed down, “There was no acting, it was just a fact of life and something that they felt safe in us knowing and that they’ve never needed to question.”

Melissa reached over and squeezed his hand.

“I suppose,” he said, “That’s the best compliment that a father can ever get.”