A Book Nerd's Guide to Falling in Love

Chapter 29: Forgiveness was a Bridge

I sat in the backseat of the car, sighing. My mother cradled in the front passenger seat, and my father was at the wheel, driving us to the Ammonoosuc River.

I had forgotten that today was the Gathering of the Jack O'Lanterns and was declared a holiday. I had hoped to go to school and walk up to Finn and simply apologize because, after a night of thinking, I came to the conclusion that maybe I didn't need to do a grand gesture after all. Maybe, all I needed to do was express how regretful I was for what I did and how grateful I was for all his help to save the library. But that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Today, I needed to support my father for it was his first time contributing a jack o'lantern to this holiday. The townsfolk were gathering with hundreds of carved pumpkins that would be set on the rocks of the Ammonoosuc River.

My father carved his lantern at a carving party last weekend and dropped it off at Littleton Bike Shop to be collected for display. It wasn't the prettiest one I had seen, but he was proud of his work. He'd been saying for years that he wanted to join the festival but never got the chance because of his busy schedule. This year, he had all the time he needed to create his masterpiece—that was what he called it.

I was happy for him for retiring earlier than he had planned. My mother and I would be seeing more of him around the house.

"So, how did it go wid Pinn yesterday?" My mother inspected me over the backrest of her seat.

"Finn?" my dad asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "You mean Johnson's kid?"

I noted both of them. I hadn't told my father about it yet. "I tried the grand gesture thing," I said to my mother. My face sank between my shoulders. "It didn't work."

"What?" My mother's tone rose. "What kind op boy doesn't appreciate a grand gesture?"

"Wait," my father said. "Finn is the boy you're having trouble with?" I noticed the car accelerated.

"It's not his fault, Dad. I did something wrong and don't know how to fix it," I told him, hoping he'd ease up on the gas. "Mom suggested doing a grand gesture as an apology, so I did. But I didn't exactly tell him the gesture was for him. I don't know if he got it, but he's still not talking to me." My whole body sank into the car seat.

"Sweetheart," my father started, and the car's speed slowed and became constant as we turned onto Jackson Street. "You should've come to me for advice."

My mother slapped him on the shoulder. "What are you trying to say? Dat I gabe her da wrong adbice?"

"Ow! You know I'm driving, right?" My father teased. Then he peeked at me again in the rearview mirror. "I don't know what happened, kiddo. But grand gestures don't work on guys. We're too dense to get it sometimes."

"Tama ka jan," my mother said.

I knew tama meant correct, but I couldn't figure out the whole sentence. In context, I assumed it meant you got that right.

My father sighed. "The best way to fix things like this is to talk it out."

My mother fell quiet. She always did when my father had a point. And I had thought the same thing earlier—maybe I only needed to approach Finn and apologize. If only he'd let me.

"Thanks, Dad," I said. I agreed with him, but it wasn't as simple as he thought.

I watched outside the window, contemplating how to do it when we reached the Ammonoosuc River. It was an hour before any event for the Gathering of the Jack O'Lanterns started, but the parking spaces on the streets had already filled, so we parked a little walking distance away.