An hour later, as she and Mabel were headed for the door, Thea grabbed her hand.
“I’m here any time you want to talk about Leo,” she said. “I know this must be a lot for you.”
Faith pulled her friend into a hug, squeezing her tight. “Thanks. When I need a sounding board, you know you’re my person.”
* * *
As she drove back home,she tried to start a mental list of all the things she’d need to do that week: look over that new algebra tutoring packet, figure out what the hell to wear on a camping trip, maybe visit that house Aiden was finishing up. But her brain kept returning to what Thea had said about Brandon’s father.
Thea knew about the problems Faith had had with her parents over the years, including that massive blowup over Leo. But she’d never sounded half as upset about it as she did about Brandon’s father.
Rich people have parent problems too. Wasn’t that the truth?
She turned in to her parents’ driveway and put the car into park in the third stall of the garage. But she sat in the driver’s seat after she’d turned off the engine. Was she really going to do this? Try to have a pleasant conversation with them? One where she didn’t leap to take offense or intentionally provoke a fight?
Brandon’s devastated face swam through her memory again. All that anger, all that hurt, and nowhere to put it.
Some bridges weren’t mendable, but maybe she could see if hers was. She should at least try while she still had the chance. Taking a deep breath, she popped open her door and headed into the house.
“Mom? Dad?”
“In here.”
Franklin called to her from his study. Her resolve wavered. When was the last time she’d had a solo conversation with him? Oh yeah, during her high school graduation party that had ended early when she’d stormed out.
She almost bolted for the safety of her bedroom, but that was cowardly. She was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a coward.
She dragged her feet in the direction of the study off the main floor landing.
“Hi.” She hesitated in the doorway, looking around for any signs that her dad was a different guy than he’d been twelve years ago. Like her bedroom, nothing much in the stuffy room had changed. Big heavy desk, stiff damask curtains, blocky bookshelves full of brass nautical equipment and unread hardbacks.
“Can I help you with something?” Franklin asked, peering at her over his reading glasses.
“Um.” She didn’t have a real plan for this, so she blurted out the first thing she could grab on to. “Do you have any camping supplies?”
He pulled off his glasses. “Your mother bought a hammock and some solar lights for a garden party a few years ago. Is that what you have in mind?”
“No.” She took a hesitant step into the office. This was the room where they’d had that final, terrible fight. Being surrounded by this much heavy oak furniture apparently encouraged her to make rash decisions, like telling her parents that she’d never set foot in their house again. “I meant actual camping. Tents and sleeping bags. I’m going for an overnight trip next weekend.”
Her father’s face went slack. “You?Camping?”
“God, why does everybody say that?” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go. “Whatever. Sorry for bothering you.”
So much for repairing bridges. Nobody could say she hadn’t tried.
“This camping trip. Is it part of your new program?”
She paused, turning slowly in surprise. Her father was asking a follow-up question? One that involved herjob?
“Yes,” she said. “It’s kind of a trial run to see how a few of the Dig Greener lessons work with different age groups before we start taking more kids.”
“That’s good. Smart to do a soft launch.” He folded his glasses and tapped them on his palm. Was he… was he nervous? Her larger-than-life, both-his-bark-and-his-bite-are-bad father wasnervous?
She moved a little farther into the study. “You should see some of the studies they’ve done on how getting out into nature helps kids in the classroom. It’s really cool how it’s all linked in their brains.”
This pulled a small smile to his lips. “I don’t know if you remember this, but I was an Eagle Scout.”
“That’s right! I’d completely forgotten.” She sat down on the chair in front of his desk and folded her hands in her lap, trying to shake the unreality of reminiscing with her father in his study after years of frosty communication.
