My anger came roaring back to life. “Daddy.” I whirled around so fast my hair smacked me in the face. “I am getting sick and tired of you saying Hendrix isn’t good enough for me. You’ve been preaching the same damn story since I was thirteen years old.” He opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. He could wait until I was finished to speak. “He’s plenty good enough for me. He’s more than good enough.”
