The Black Coats(45)

Mr. Porter leaned back in his chair, his eyes sympathetic. “Drew told me about your cousin. I remember when it was all over the news. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. I’m sure it’s been really hard on your family.”

Thea clenched her napkin under the table, willing herself not to cry. There was something about the kindness of these two men that threatened to break her. “It hasn’t been easy,” she mumbled, looking for an out.

Mr. Porter must have seen her struggling for a change of subject and decided to help. “So Drew told me that he took you to Harry’s on your first date?”

Thea looked at him gratefully. “He did, and it was quite the experience.”

Their conversation blossomed out from there, easily darting from one subject to the next. To her surprise she found herself enjoying the evening, tossing secret smiles Drew’s way, laughing at the funny relationship Drew had with his dad—Drew groaning at his dad’s jokes, Mr. Porter taking such obvious pride in his son’s accomplishments.

After a spectacular meal, Thea stood to help clear the table but was intercepted by Mr. Porter. “Sit, sit! We’ll do that later. You are our guest! I insist.”

Thea smiled, shyly tucking her hair back behind one ear. Drew’s dad paused. “So, Thea, tell me about this club you’re in! Drew said you flip houses?”

Drew stared hard at his father. “No, Dad, that’s not what I said. She fixes old houses.”

“Oh. That makes more sense. I was going to say, that’s a lot of work for a high schooler.”

Thea clenched her teeth, losing track of the lies. “We take old Victorian houses and slowly restore them with a team of other high school girls. It’s intense work, but it’s very rewarding.”

Mr. Porter’s eyes narrowed. “It’s so interesting! How did you ever find out about this kind of thing? Is it offered at Roosevelt? They seem like more of a bread-and-butter athletics kind of school.” He nodded at Drew, who was lazily tracing his fingers down Thea’s arm. “No offense, son.”

“None taken. The place is kind of crappy.”

Mr. Porter raised his beer. “So how do you like this society?”

Thea let a deep truth pour out of her. “You know how when you see something deeply broken, you just want to fix it? Well, sometimes you can’t, because you don’t have the resources, or you aren’t strong enough. But these houses, which are sometimes filthy places, crawling with rats and waste, you can fix them. You can do something about it.” She sighed. “That’s why I love it. Because as I restore these houses, I feel like . . .”

“You’re restoring yourself.” Drew was looking at her now, his green eyes seeing everything about her except the truth.

Thea took a jagged breath and lay back against the crook of his arm. “Yeah.”

Adam Porter watched her with curious eyes. “So do they let dads join?”

Thea and Drew started laughing. “No, they don’t, and you’re the second dad to ask about it. My father desperately wants in.”

Mr. Porter patted his full belly. “Well, maybe your dad and I will have to get together to find our own houses to restore.”

“That’s not fair,” muttered Drew. “All I have is soccer, and I don’t care about that half as much as you care about this.”

“Son.” Mr. Porter’s eyes bore down on his son. “Don’t ever sell short your abilities. You’re amazing out there.”

“I have to agree,” intoned Thea. “I’ve heard about your amazing abilities myself.”

“And yet, you’ve never seen a game.” Drew’s voice carried a sharpness that surprised Thea, though she knew she deserved it.

“Well, we will have to change that, won’t we?” she said, softly resting her fingers on his elbow.

“Will you bring pom-poms? Say you will.”

“Drew Abraham Porter!” His dad stood. “Stop teasing the poor girl and get her some peach cobbler.”

Thea grinned. “Yes, get the poor girl some cobbler, please.”

Drew leaped up from the table. Adam Porter watched their visitor in the waning sun. “Can I ask you something, Thea?” She turned her head. His eyes burned into hers, curious and intense. “How is Drew doing? With his mom leaving and all.”

Thea swallowed. “To be honest, he hasn’t really talked to me about it. A mention here and there but nothing more.”

Mr. Porter nodded. “That’s about what I get, too. It’s got to be hard. His mom already had two feet out the door when he turned ten. Mothering was just too much for her. She was . . . not like you.”

Thea tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

“You’re strong. I can see it. A girl doesn’t make it through something like her cousin’s murder without a spine of iron.” He shook his head. “Nasty world we live in, where people take things into their own hands, lean into their most selfish desire. People like that destroy lives.” His eyes lingered on Drew happily doling out a bucket’s worth of whipped cream on top of each dessert. She squirmed uncomfortably, remembering the blood that had dashed over her knuckles the night before. It hadn’t been her own. “Thea, I sure hope they caught the bastard who did that to your cousin.”