“Good, you’re back.” Her father didn’t even wait for her to slide into her seat and return her napkin to her lap before slicing into the thick slab of prime rib that had been delivered while she was away from the table.
Faith and her mother exchanged a rare moment of mother/daughter unity and rolled their eyes together over the unabashed display of carnivorism.
Faith picked up her fork, speared a bite of salmon, and yanked the Band-Aid off. “Mom, Dad, can I ask you a favor?”
Her parents’ eyes flew to her in unison, and now she reallywasflushed. Damn Leo for rattling her so much that she’d just vomited out the question that she was there to ask. So much for trying to finesse it.
No. No more thinking about Leo. She just had to get through this humiliating parental episode.
“I beg your pardon?” Her father’s round face hung slack as he stared at her.
Faith bit her lip before barreling ahead, offering her parents the brightest smile and perkiest voice she could manage. After all, this was why she’d agreed to dinner, dressed in a suit, and troweled on the makeup. She wasn’t going to let anything knock her off her game. “I’m just having some housing difficulties and need a temporary place to live.”
Her mother’s preternaturally smooth forehead didn’t so much as crease as the corners of her mouth turned down. “Someplace temporary? Why on earth?”
“Typical renter problems!” Faith’s forced cheer was making all her pronouncements sound far too chipper, but the tone alone wasn’t enough of an answer for the duo raising their eyebrows at her over their wineglasses. Her nerves started to leak through, causing her to burble more of the story than she’d intended. “My landlord sold the house, and the new owner decided to do some major renovations and jack up the rent once my lease is up next month. That doesn’t leave me with much time to find a new rental, and I’m kind of limited in my options.”
“I’m not understanding where the favor comes in.” Franklin Fox blinked at her behind his rimless glasses, no doubt processing the shock at his independent daughter making any kind of request.
You and me both, pal.Faith was equally surprised that she was even considering this. Still, what choice did she have?
“It turns out I don’t havequiteenough for first and last month’s rent at the places I walked through.” She kept her chin up and her voice strong. “You know I haven’t asked you for anything since high school graduation, so I was thinking—”
Her father scoffed and sliced off another bite of prime rib. “What, that job of yours doesn’t keep you afloat?”
It took every ounce of her willpower not to shrink into the high-backed wooden chair at the disdain in his voice. “Ah. Well.”
Thathalted the progress of her father’s fork entirely, and he turned to her mother. “I’m sure we’re misunderstanding our daughter, Betsy. Because it sounds like she’s saying that she’s wasting her time at some do-gooder outfit that doesn’t evenpay herproperly.”
Franklin’s voice rose at the end of the sentence, and Betsy cast her eyes around her as if to gauge which of their friends might have overheard his outburst. Faith’s irritation overrode her nerves, and even though it was the absolute last thing she should do, she opened her mouth to defend her job.
“Beaucoeur BUILD isn’t some…” But she bit back that dead-end argument. It hadn’t worked once in the past seven years. Instead, she exhaled on a count of five.Kind. Calm. Collected.Her therapist’s suggested mantra to get herself through difficult conversations was getting a workout tonight. “I’m in charge. I pay myself. And if I needed to reinvest some of my salary to keep it running—”
“Ridiculous,” her father snapped. “I want to know where in your college studies you learned that you give away your work for free.”
Faith laced her fingers together tightly in her lap to hide her frustration. She’d launched the tutoring center to help the underserved students in the Beaucoeur public schools rather than joining the family business as her father had always expected. And although her nonprofit had helped countless kids succeed in grade school and high school and even get into college, arguing the point with her father yet again wouldn’t win this argument.
“I just need some help while I wait on some funding to come in,” she muttered, already regretting everything. Maybe she could stay with Thea for a bit.
But by now her mother had recovered from her initial surprise, and her aquiline nose practically twitched in excitement. “How long a wait?”
Trust Mom to figure it out first. Her dad might think he was head of the household, but Betsy always had been faster at the uptake.
“Not long,” she said, not fighting the sag this time and letting defeat wash over her as the weight of her imploding life pressed down on her chest. “I’m applying for a grant that’ll carry me through the next two years.”
“Mmm.” Her father’s skeptical tone rankled.
Feeling like the teenager she’d been the last time she asked her parents for anything, she sighed. “I just…Please.I’ve already had to lay off two people, and I can’t afford to lose any more. I need one tiny little favor.”
Sure. It might be tiny to Franklin and Betsy, but to Faith, it was the difference between success and watching her dreams get crushed in a trash compactor.
“We’re not reinstating your trust fund. Absolutely not.” Franklin practically bellowed his pronouncement, then viciously sawed a hunk off his meat. “You made your choices, and you’ll live with them.”
“I don’t want that!” She might have regretted the loss of the money over the years, but she’d rather dismantle BUILD brick by brick than tell her parents that. She loathed what she was about to do, but she was out of choices. “I was wondering about Fox Industries’ corporate apartments. Could I stay in an empty one for a few weeks? Two months, tops.”
Neither parent said a thing, so Faith kept going, the words running together in her haste to sell this plan. “I’ll keep it clean. I’ll… I’ll clean any of the others that are vacant as well. Dust. Water the plants. Whatever you need.”
Franklin and Betsy exchanged glances, after which her mother rested her slim hand on her father’s wrist. At the gesture, Faith felt the first spark of hope. Her dad was the stubborn one, but her mom was the maker of plans and manipulator of moods.
