“I found my way to an express cycle.” Finn shrugs. “I figured your dad wouldn’t mind.” He pulls the fleece blanket from the bed and starts casually folding it like the gesture doesn’t mean anything. I swallow down the lump that has formed in my throat. Everything still feels raw, and I know I’ve only just begun to process the tangled web of emotions seeing Dad again has brought to the surface. But as I watch Finn carefully line up the blanket’s edges, I realize maybe I don’t have to do it alone.
“Do you think your dad has enough UT gear?” Finn moves on to the fitted sheet and pops it free of the thin mattress. “Maybe he’ll let you borrow some. Freshen up your design aesthetic a bit.”
He’s looking at me expectantly, so I blink past my epiphanyand muster a reply, “Yeah, the man is a fanatic. You know, the last time I saw him before today was at a college football game. Honestly, I think at least fifty percent of why he even bothered to come was the chance to walk around his old alma mater.” Finn offers me a soft, sad smile. “I mean, I enjoyed my time in college as much as the next person, but I’d like to think I have more to look forward to in life.” A pang of sadness strikes through me, as I look around Dad’s living room, these UT details the only personality in sight. Maybe collegewasas good as it got for my dad. Is there anything sadder than holding on to a piece of your past instead of living your life in the present? I wince as an image of the worn movie ticket I keep tucked in my wallet flashes through my mind.
“Come on.” Finn jingles a set of keys in front of me. “I think there’s somewhere we should go. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
I pull on my clean clothes—all signs of coffee spillage now gone from my tank and sports bra—and find some mouthwash in the medicine cabinet for a quick swish, then head into the kitchen, where my dad’s drinking coffee out of a UT mug. Finn hands me a Styrofoam cup with black coffee.
“I’ve got to head into work early, but it was nice seeing y’all,” Dad says. “Come back anytime. And just drop the Wagoneer keys off in the mailbox whenever you make it back.”
“You’re letting us take the Jeep?” I ask.
Dad walks with us to the front porch. “Of course. And I’ve got your number saved in my phone now, so I’ll text you to make sure the Porsche gets taken care of.”
“I… Thanks, Dad.” Part of me is tempted to bring up our conversation from yesterday. I start flipping through thedifferent points I could bring up, the arguments I could make, but I stop myself. I don’t want to hold on so tightly to the things that hurt me anymore. I don’t want to be stuck in the past. So instead of launching into a heated debate, I just say, “And you know, you can text me other times too. Like you do with Liz. It’d be nice to know what you were up to.”
He nods once and reaches out to pat my shoulder, then pulls me into a hug. I return his hug, a couple of tears leaking out as I do, and then, after a few seconds, I let him go.
“Y’all drive safe.”
“Yessir.” Finn shakes my dad’s hand again and climbs into the Wagoneer. It rumbles to life. I take a deep breath and climb into the truck. The last time I was in it, my feet didn’t reach the floorboard. And it occurs to me that my daddidkeep something from his time with us. He kept this truck. The truck we spent hours and hours working on.
Finn looks over at me and smiles. “You’re okay if I drive?”
“I’m okay if you drive.” I smile back. “Besides, I don’t know our mystery destination.”
We’re both quiet as Finn takes us further and further away from the city. The sky lightens from navy to a French blue, but the sun still hasn’t risen. I expect us to turn in toward the airport, but we keep heading north. I’m itching to know where we’re headed, but I try to just relax into the unknown, closing my eyes and just letting myself feel the rumble of the Wagoneer.
After a few moments, I’m the one to break the easy silence. “I fought with my dad yesterday. Or more like, I yelled and he just sat there.”
Finn raises his eyebrows. “I thought there might have beensomething to set you off.” He looks over at me. “Did it make you feel better?”
“A little bit. He was just so selfish when he left us, and all I wanted was for him to admit to it. To admit that he screwed us over. To admit that he hurt me. To admit to anything. I don’t know what I wanted. Maybe for him to say he was as miserable without us as we were without him.”
Finn shoots me a look as he pulls onto an exit ramp.
“What?” I ask.
“I mean, did you see the man’s house?” Finn asks. “Does he really need to tell you he’s miserable?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“And I knew you as a kid. You weren’t miserable. You were fearless. You sparkled.”
“I sparkled?” I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips. “Sybil’s the one that sparkles. I’m just the one trying to point her in a safe direction.”
“Maybe.” Finn smiles back at me. “It’s always been hard for me to see anyone else when you’re around.” My heart rate speeds up, and I’m about to ask him what he means, but he continues. “All you could do is tell him where you stand and what your feelings are. At least then you know that you’ve done everything you could. After that, it’s up to him to make the next move.”
“My dad?”
Finn furrows his brows at me. “Yeah, who else?”
“Right.” I survey the road for clues about where we’re headed, but can’t come up with anything. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” I’m tempted to pull up my phone and track us, but I decide to trust Finn.
Half an hour later, we pass a large sign. “Are we going to the Grand Canyon?”
