January 29th, 1991 — Portsmouth, NH
10:25 AM, EST

Shelby had woken Robbo up at the crack of dawn after a restless night of sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the images of the loved ones she and Rob had been reminiscing earlier. After lying awake for what felt like hours, Shelby came to the realization that they were all dead, except one: her father.

She couldn't go back to Florida without seeing him. As much as it would pain her to do so, and as anxious as the thought of seeing him after all those years made her feel, she knew she had to. She had to talk to him again. She had to make amends. She'd just lost her grandmother, after finally making amends with her. Shelby still felt guilt over her relationship with Gran, but there wasn't anything she could do now. She wasn't sure if she could forgive herself if something were to happen to her father and they had never made up. Shelby was his only daughter, and he was her only remaining family. She had to go talk to him, but she couldn't do it alone.

Robbo, of course, ever supportive and gracious as he always was, happily agreed to go with her after she'd asked him.

Shelby had found the prison's visiting hours in a phone book, woken Robbo, and then the two had made breakfast before hitting the road.

The prison was in Concord, which was only a little over an hour away. Shelby was glad that Rob had volunteered to drive, because she was so nervous that she was sure she wouldn't have been able to keep her eyes on the road.

What if her dad didn't want to see her? No, of course he'd want to see her. Shelby had never gone to visit him in all the years he'd been there, though. Maybe he didn't want to see her.

No, she was his only daughter. He'd be happy to see her. Surprised, yes, but happy.

Happy? What if he wasn't happy? What if he was annoyed with her? If Shelby was in prison, and she had a daughter that never came to visit, she'd be pretty upset. Then again, towards the end, her father hadn't been the best father. Shelby had a lot of reasons to be mad at him. Yeah, if anyone should be mad, it should be Shelby.

Or should it be?

After all these years, did Shelby have a right to be mad?

He'd chosen drugs over his own daughter, for God's sake. He was more likely to be on the streets selling narcotics than at home with his daughter, reading her a book or something.

Of course, it hadn't always been that way.

His wife had just died unexpectedly , and then he was stuck with a small, redheaded creature that had brought the said wife's demise. He'd never grieved properly over Shelby's mother's death, Shelby knew that. He'd never had the chance — he'd had a baby to raise.

They used to do things together, when Shelby was very young. They'd lay out on the grass in the backyard and look up at the sky. He'd taught her the constellations, and Shelby would stare longingly up at the moon.

Now look at her — she'd be on the moon in a little over a year.

He'd take her fishing sometimes, too. Shelby had never much cared for fishing, but it made her dad happy, and she liked spending time with him.

That was, of course, before things started to change. He'd been laid off from the factory he worked at, and jobs were scarce in southeastern New Hampshire. Shelby spent more and more nights with her grandmother while her father spent his nights in bars, on the street, and in the sketchy sort of houses he'd always warned her to stay away from.

It wasn't long before he'd gotten caught, dragging Shelby into long court days and custody battles and giving her enough childhood trauma to last a lifetime.

Despite all that, it wasn't anger that boiled in Shelby's stomach as they reached the outskirts of Concord. In that moment, all Shelby wanted to do was to see her dad.

They got directions to the prison from a gas station attendant and by the time they arrived, Shelby's hands were shaking uncontrollably. Despite it being the middle of winter, she had created a pool of sweat in her sweater.

Robbo parked across the street from the prison, a tall, intimidating wall surrounding the building. "You ready, Shelby?"

She nodded and got out of the car, then they headed towards the door that was labeled "Visitor Entrance".

A nice looking woman sat inside, and she smiled at Shelby as the redhead entered. "First visitor of the day. What can I do for you?"

Shelby wasn't sure how prison-visiting etiquette went. She saw a vending machine next to the desk and cursed herself. Should she have brought her dad something? She rummaged through her pockets for some quarters and headed towards the machine, leaving Robbo to deal with the receptionist.

"Uhh," Rob smiled awkwardly as he looked between the woman and Shelby, "We're here to visit Paul Colewell."

The woman dug a file out of her desk before saying, "I'll need a form of identification from both of you, sweetie." Rob dug out his driver's license while Shelby did the same, before the latter headed back to the candy bars. "Can I ask your relation to Mr. Colewell, Mr. Everett?" The woman asked as she recorded Shelby and Robbo's information from the IDs.

"Uhh," Rob glanced over at Shelby, who was trying to decide if her father liked Snickers or Butterfingers better. "That's his daughter. I'm a friend of her's."

The woman's eyes went up in surprise, but she covered it with a sweet smile before handing both of the cards back to Rob. "Well, Paul will be happy to see you. You can leave your personal belongings with me. You can't bring anything in with you except that candy bar, dear," She said to Shelby, who had finally decided on a Butterfinger. "I'll go get him set up, if you wouldn't mind waiting here."

The woman left then, leaving Shelby and Robbo to awkwardly stand in the waiting room.

"What if he doesn't want to see me, Rob?" Shelby questioned as she attempted to fan herself with the Butterfinger. She was still sweating.

Robbo gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her shoulders. "It's going to be okay, Shelby. He'll be so happy to see you."

Shelby felt like a terrible person, a terrible daughter. How had she never come to visit her father before? He lived like an animal in this place, with no daughter to bring him a Butterfinger until now.

The woman came back and led them down a hallway towards a set of secure doors. A loud beep emitted from them, along with a flash of red light. The woman gave Shelby a smile before saying, "Head in whenever you're ready. You've got thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?" Shelby repeated. How was thirty minutes supposed to make up for years and years of absence?

Shelby stood in front of the closed doors for a few seconds before tightening her grip on the Butterfinger and turning to Rob.

"Do you wanna go in their alone?" Rob asked, setting a tentative hand on the doorknob.

Shelby shook her head and reached for the door. "Let me go first."

She pushed open the door and walked inside, her eyes focusing immediately on the thin man, dressed head to toe in orange, seated at the table in front of her.

His green eyes had since been surrounded by wrinkles, and his dark hair was peppered in gray and white. He wasn't the same man that Shelby had known as a child, but then again ... maybe he was.

He stood as Shelby entered the room, and Shelby took a step forward, tears filling her eyes as his did the same.

"Hi, Dad," She whispered as she attempted to compose herself.

"Hey, Carrot Top."

January 29th, 1991 — Concord, NH
12:05 PM, EST

After a few tearful minutes of long-awaited embraces and heartfelt apologies, Shelby, Paul and Robbo had fallen into a comfortable level of conversation. Shelby and her father weren't sure how they were to catch up - there was so much to say.

Shelby was thankful that Gran had kept in touch with her father, though sparingly, throughout the years. He knew, at least, of her four years at MIT and start at NASA.

Shelby was proud to tell him of her upcoming plans to walk on the moon.

"I followed the space race, you know, back in the day. You were born a little over a month after Armstrong walked on the moon, you know. When you were little, you were so inquisitive about space ... about the moon. I knew that my little girl would walk amongst the craters some day." Paul beamed as he squeezed his daughter's hand.

Shelby's cheeks flushed and she looked down at the table. "That's all I ever wanted. To walk on the moon."

"I know, Carrot Top, believe me." Mr. Colewell smiled at his daughter. "You know, I'm the only one here that can say his daughter is an astronaut. Jimmy Henderson thinks he's top shit because his son cleans the bathrooms at the Smithsonian. I think you take the cake."

"First woman on the moon, too," Robbo added.

"Well, I shouldn't be, but I guess I will be." Shelby said. It was sad that no woman had touched the moon yet in 1991, twenty-two years after the Apollo 11 crew had touched down on its surface.

Shelby's father turned to Robbo then, studying the brown-eyed boy intently. "So, you've brought me your boyfriend to meet then too, Shelby?"

Rob and Shelby chuckled awkwardly. "No, sir." Rob laughed.

"Robbo's just a friend," Shelby quickly added. "I mean, we did date in college, but that's rather ... irrelevant. He's in Seattle, I'm in Florida. No relationship here."

Paul smirked and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm afraid I've missed the chance to interrogate your prom date, or even your first boyfriend. And here I am, presented with an ex that lives across the country from my daughter. You went to MIT too, Robert?"

Shelby chuckled at her father's use of Rob's full name. It reminded her of when she'd stayed with the Everetts in Salem.

"Yeah, I'm a Mechanical Engineer at Boeing, actually." Rob replied.

Mr. Colewell's eyebrows went up. "So you both like building things that fly, then, is it?"

"I guess so." Shelby laughed.

She then realized that she'd forgotten to give her dad the candy bar, which had been shoved in her pocket. She quickly took it out and slid it to him, relieved to see that it hadn't melted.

"Ahh, Butterfinger." Paul smiled as he ripped open the package. "You remembered. I haven't had one of these in a long time."

That sentence hadn't meant to target anything, but it sat on Shelby's heart and crushed it like a large boulder.

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I never came to visit." She murmured, the lighthearted mood gone from the room as she stared down at the table. "I'm a terrible daughter, I ... I can't believe I never came to visit."

Shelby's father frowned as he watched her come unraveled. "Now, now, Shelby. It's okay. You're not a terrible daughter, you're the best daughter I could ever ask for. What I did ... what I put you through, that was inexcusable. I deserve every second, every day, every year I've spent here, and the years to come."

"I should have came." Shelby shook her head.

When Shelby was very young, she'd begged to see her father. He'd spent his first few months without being able to have any visitors at all, so she hadn't been allowed to see him. After a while, her grandmother had just not allowed her to see him, and then the resentment had set in.

By the time Shelby could have gone to see him, she didn't want to.

"We could play the 'should have' game a long time, Shelby. It won't fix anything." Paul said quietly, and Shelby knew he regretted everything he'd done. She tried to imagine how life could have been different for the both of him if he'd never gotten arrested, or started his illegal dealings in the first place.

She couldn't put herself in that mindset. What was done was done.

"I should have come every week. Brought you a Butterfinger, every week." Shelby said quietly. "And now I have to go back to Florida ..."

"It's okay, Shelby." Paul repeated. He offered her a small smile before saying, "Just send me a letter from the moon, would you? A few pictures of you in your astronaut suit? I'm up for parole in two years, anyway, you know."

Two years already? Shelby could hardly believe it.

He'd spent most of Shelby's lifetime behind bars, so two years more wasn't so much.

"I can do that, Dad."

Paul smiled again and looked over at the clock, knowing their thirty minutes were almost up. "The worst thing about being here is that I missed seeing my little girl grow up. But, I'm seeing her now, and I'm so proud of who she's become."