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He’s focusing on filling the biggest cart he could find.
Making me wonder how I’m gonna explain a houseful of food to my dad, but I’m sure he’s well aware of just how naturally generous Brandon is by now.
We check out after filling another cart despite my protests, with Brandon reasoning that the less he has to go out to shop, the more time he has to work on his new house.
He doesn’t need to shoot me a wink or speak in riddles, but it’s clear he’s saying out loud to keep up appearances.
I actually think it’s a great idea.
If we stock up now, we don’t have to venture out for anything later.
No tutoring and no errands to run for at least a week. What’s a girl gonna do with all her spare time?
I’m pretty sure Brandon has some ideas, but as I pull into our street, I see my dad’s truck parked out front.
I swallow hard and feel my foot easing off the gas.
“You’re Dad’s home,” Brandon says in a strained voice, but he’s not worried.
He sounds more like an animal guarding its food than he does someone who’s afraid of getting caught.
Taking a deep breath, I pull into the drive, and as I help Brandon start to unload the groceries, the moment of confrontation I’ve been dreading…
Never happens.
Far from it, my dad practically leaps outta the house to welcome us both, beaming a huge smile.
Brandon’s mood instantly shifts because if my dad’s happy, so is Brandon.
And I’m off the hook for now.
“You’re home early, Dad,” I observe, but he’s way too pumped up about something else to ask us where we’ve been or why I didn’t go tutoring today.
He’s grinning like a maniac, and I wonder if he’s finally cracked. But catching Brandon’s knowing look, I figure it must be good news somehow.
Whatever it is.
“I dunno what you did, Big B. But it worked!” my dad almost shrieks, pumping the air with his fist before high-fiving Brandon, who doesn’t seem surprised at all somehow.
“What did you do?” I ask them both, but it’s like I’ve disappeared or something.
Dad’s gone into full Brandon-best buddy mode, slapping his back, whooping, and hollering. It’s not until we’re inside that I can get any sense out of him.
“I’m booked solid for the next three months!” my dad exclaims to Brandon, who’s trying hard to look excited for my dad.
“…And that eh…client of yours? The one who collects all those vintage cars, guess who he wants to be maintaining them all?” Dad asks excitedly.
“That’s great news, Steve. I’m glad I could…,” Brandon says, but dad’s on a roll.
He’s re-hiring the mechanics he’s laid off. He’s gonna ‘expand the business.’ He’s gonna do better than ever from now on.
He’s gonna….
He’s gonna make me puke if he keeps going on about it.
“Dad,” I finally say, talking over him to get his attention.
“Yeah, sweetie, what is it?” he asks, holding his thought so he can keep telling Brandon all about his fresh business plans.
