get farther away with each step instead of closer. Then, in a blink, she was standing in the open doorway, wondering how she’d gotten there so fast and if she really wanted to go through with this.
She clamped her elbow down on her purse, feeling for the other surprises she’d brought Dad. Depending on how things went tonight, she might take them back with her and leave his room without a decoration.
Taking courage from Caleb’s words that the truth would give her closure, she forced herself into the room. Dad was sitting up in a chair in front of the television, watching a holiday love story unfold on Hallmark. Faith’s fear dipped at the sight. That man—a hopeless romantic, really—wasn’t going to bite her head off for sticking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Right?
“Merry Christmas.” She held up the grease-stained bag and wiggled it side to side. “I thought you might want something that didn’t come on a plastic plate.”
A smile spread across Dad’s face, and he held out his arms. “I’d take a hug more than anything.”
She obliged, noticing that he’d lost weight. Being here was harder on him than he let on. The evidence was right there in the lines on his face.
Her heart clenched, and she wondered if she should go through with her plan or let him rest here and gather strength. What if she stressed him out so much he had another heart attack?
She pulled back and dragged the rolling tray away from the bed, putting it between them like a table. “Okay, I know you’re supposed to eat healthy, so these are sweet potato fries—baked, not fried.” She set the first tray on the table. Dad leaned over and sniffed like a bloodhound. “And then this is a turkey burger on a whole wheat bun—no sauces, but I brought you a packet of light ranch.”
His eyes brightened. “You remembered.”
She reached for the only other chair in the room, a stool with wheels, and pulled it to her spot at their makeshift table. “How could I forget? You’re the only person I know who likes ranch dressing on their burger. The waitress made you repeat yourself every year.”
Dad laughed. “And it was the same waitress. What was her name?” He snapped his fingers. “Annabelle … Angela … Agatha …”
“Annalise,” Faith filled in. She didn’t only go to the diner with her dad. She and a good friend, Katie, would go there for milkshakes on Thursday afternoons to commiserate over their math test scores. Not that either of them got anything lower than an A-. Their wallowing had more to do with the time it took to get those grades. Mr. Jenson was anything but an easy A.
“That’s right.” Dad bowed his head.
Faith folded her hands in her lap and said “Amen” when he finished the prayer over the food. That was another thing that had embarrassed her when she was young. He prayed, even in public, before he ate. She didn’t mind it now. In fact, she might just try it herself—over breakfast in the privacy of her home. She’d have to work up to praying in public.
“This is great, Faith. Thank you.”
His humble sincerity was an open window for conversation, and she hurried to climb through. “Dad? I have some questions about things …” She fiddled with the thin napkin in her lap.
“Go ahead.” He chomped three fries at a time, his eyes on her as if he wasn’t afraid of anything she had to say.
“The first Christmas you and Mom split was …” She swallowed, looking for a word without barbs and settling for, “… hard. Where were you? Mom said you didn’t want us. I just … I’ve thought a lot about that memory, and I’m not sure I trust it. I’d like to know your perspective.”
Dad leaned back in his chair and pushed away the burger and fries. He folded one arm over his chest and rested his chin in his other hand. “I don’t want to say anything bad about your mom.”
“You never have.” Unlike what she’s said about you, but Faith didn’t say that part out loud.
“And I don’t want to paint myself as the perfect man—because I’m far from it. Even right now, I have feelings in my heart I’m going to have to talk to Jesus about someday. And it won’t be a pleasant conversation.”
A smile ghosted across Faith’s lips. “I need to know.”
“You deserve to know. I don’t suppose she’s told you the whole