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Dad, licking syrup off a finger, glanced up at me and asked, “So, how’s the tutoring going?”
It was like he had a window into my thoughts.
I fidgeted with the handle of my mug and shrugged. “Not bad, actually.”
“Good. That’s good.” His gaze flickered to my nails, which were still lemon-yellow, then back to his plate. The gesture was so common, it was like checking my temperature, direct insight into how my life was going.
“I wasn’t sure. You know,” he cleared his throat, “with the Elliot kid and all. I know what his father’s like. I was hoping the apple fell far from the tree.”
Ah, yes, Mr. Elliot. Apparently, my father wasn’t the only one who thought he was a jerk.
My gaze settled back onto my pancakes, and I cut a hunk off, taking a bite. “Yeah, I’m not so sure how well they get along.”
Dad opened his mouth to say something else, but I quickly turned to Sara, wanting to change the subject. “Ready for your big game?”
Just as I suspected, her eyes brightened and she took the bait. For the rest of breakfast, she talked about the team and their big game against Lakeview’s rival.
After we finished eating, I helped my father clear the dishes. We loaded them into the dishwasher before I turned to him expectantly.
“Ready for your surprise? Come on. ” He nodded toward the front door.
I followed behind him, and when he put on his shoes, I did the same, slipping my feet into a pair of flip flops—the cheap kind you got for a buck—then stepped outside into the mid-morning sunshine.
His gaze settled on something in the driveway, and I shielded my eyes against the glare to follow his gaze. There, in the driveway in front of him, sat a car I didn’t recognize. When my eyes flickered back to him, he held out a key.
His smile broadened as he gestured for me to take it. “I may not have been able to get you out of working off your tuition, but I was able to scrape a little bit together for this. I hope you like it.”
My eyes widened as a wash of shock crashed over me. “You got me acar?”
He scratched his head. “I bought it off of one of the guys at work. He was just gonna scrap it anyway. It could use a little TLC. It’s a little rough around the edges, but the engine’s strong.”
I shook my head slowly as I took the keys and moved closer to the compact blue vehicle behind him, mouth parted, unsure of what to say. I knew full well Dad couldn’t afford to buy me a car, so the fact that he’d found a way, even if it was a beater, meant a lot.
A closer look and I saw the rips in the upholstery from the window. The hood was a darker shade of blue than the rest of the body. Duct Tape and thick plastic replaced the back passenger side window while some sort of red adhesive had been used to repair a cracked taillight.
Calling it rough was an understatement, but I smothered the negative voice inside my head because it was a car. And it was mine. Who cared what it looked like?
I pivoted around to face him and flashed him my widest smile. “Dad, this is amazing.”
He beamed as he opened the driver’s side door—just the reaction I wanted.
“Look, it has a brand new radio.” He pointed.
It did, indeed, have a decent radio, which had to have been aftermarket based on the age and general condition of the car.
“Awesome.” I slid inside, behind the wheel, and adjusted the seat to my liking, listening as my father pointed out all the positives of the giant heap of metal like it was an exhibition of some sort, clearly excited about the gift.
“I figured wherever you end up going to college next year, you’ll need it. This way, you can come home whenever you want to visit without waiting for me to give you a ride. And you can drive off-campus, too. You know, with your friends.”
Right. The droves of friends I’m sure I’ll have, I mused.
“It’s great, Dad. Seriously,” I shook my head. “It’s an amazing gift, and I can’t believe you did this. You really didn’t need to.”
I thought of all the things he could’ve bought instead. Things he needed.
A good suit.
Paint for the trim and doors on the house.
