It was Sunday, which meant that it was the day they would return to Meadow. They weren't in a rush to go back; Mike said they would leave after one. Faith didn't feel a rush to leave either. In fact, her time at her father's place wasn't going as terrible as she imagined.

Her attempt to sleep-in yesterday failed when her father's alarm clock went off at eight a.m. She threw her arm across the nightstand, hitting the small machine as hard as she could until it turned off. After that, she tried to fall back asleep but couldn't.

She got up at nine, showered, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Her father was making bacon and eggs, a favourite that her and Mike always enjoyed.

After they ate, her father had asked if she wanted to explore the city. At first she declined, said she didn't care to see any of it. But after some convincing, he somehow persuaded her to leave the apartment and wander the streets with him.

The sky was overcast and Faith felt that something was missing without the sun in her presence. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time it had rained. Beneficial for her, but probably terrible for the harvest.

He took her down Yonge Street and brought her to the Eaton Center. They stood in Dundas Square and she spun around in circles, taking in the view. The city was so different from the country. There was people everywhere, constantly, no matter what direction she looked. It was so loud that she could barely hear herself breathe, let alone think. She thought about the vast contrast of Meadow, how quiet it was there. How if you simply sat there without saying a word, the world would echo your silence back to you.

The air felt contaminated and thick compared to Meadow, and Georgetown even. It was too busy for her to cope. She already had enough going on in her brain as it was, she didn't need more stimuli to deal with.

As nice as the city was, it was far too busy for Faith. If anything, this trip confirmed one thing for her: she definitely made the right decision moving with her mother.

They concluded the day by going for ice-cream and taking a trip up the CN Tower. Opened in 1976, the CN Tower was the world's largest building, standing at 1,815 feet. Faith wasn't surprised that she'd never been before. She never felt the need to. Some of the kids in her class used to talk about it. How your ears would pop in the elevator on your way up. How you could stand on the glass floor and see the entire city below you.

From the top, Faith looked out over the city, across the water, so vast and blue. She felt a sense of belonging whenever she was near large bodies of water, whether it be lakes or oceans. Pools, even. She enjoyed swimming, being under water, immersing herself into the depth of the unknown. How strange, she thought, that a place so beautiful could also be so dangerous. How a place that harbours and creates life could simultaneously possess the ability to take life away.

They went home shortly after that, William continuously checking to make sure that Faith was okay, asking if she needed anything else. She subtly appreciated this great concern he had with her wellbeing.

They lounged around the apartment for a while, then fetched Mike and went for dinner. There was a restaurant just down the street from William's place called The Garden. It was seemingly extravagant and smelled of fresh lemons. Faith felt underdressed.

She ordered filet mignon, her father got lamb, and Mike settled on halibut. They made awkward small talk as they waited for their food, then indulged in the silence when they no longer felt the requirement to speak. William offered them dessert. Faith briefly considered it, but eventually decided that she was too full.

That night, back at their father's apartment, the three of them settled on the couch and watched a film together. It was odd, Faith had to admit, the three of them spending this amount of time together. She couldn't deny that she felt content though. Happy, almost. It was such a change from being at her mother's place, and she tried to enjoy every minute of it. For she didn't know how long it would be until she'd be able to come back.

As the film played in front of them, Faith found herself getting lost in her thoughts. Her mind wandered to the future and she wondered how long-term her mother's life in Meadow would be. Would this be a permanent thing? Would she pack them up and move again in another year? It was hard to say, considering Faith once believed that their family home in Georgetown would be their home forever. She always pictured herself growing up, moving out, and coming home to that place to visit for holidays. Grace would be there with her kids. Mike would show up with a new girlfriend. Everything would be fine and normal. Unfortunately, reality didn't work out that way.

She woke up the next morning, the alarm clock piercing through her ears yet again. She startled, then tried to find reprieve once she got it to stop. She lied in bed, trying to return to sleep, but her mind was racing about the previous day. How she had enjoyed spending time with her father. How sweet the cotton candy ice-cream tasted on her tongue. How the view from the CN Tower made her feel on top of the world. It was all so exhilarating.

They ate breakfast together in the kitchen, then Mike headed to the shower. Faith returned to her father's bedroom and began packing up her belongings. That was when William appeared, entering the bedroom, holding a box. Faith looked up and watched him, apprehensive to whatever it was he was going to do next.

"Faith," he said. "I wanted to give you something."
"Okay," she uncrossed her legs and let them dangle off the side of the bed.
He sat down beside her and opened the box. Inside was a vintage Pentax camera. Dark black with silver linings, the tiny mechanical buttons, the smooth feel of the edges.
"It belonged to my mother," he explained. "I don't use it anymore. And I wanted you to have it."
She looked up and met his eyes. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "Especially since we don't see each other as often as we'd like. I figure you can start taking pictures. And when you get them developed, you can show them to me. Show me a bit of Meadow. Show me your life."
He removed the camera from the box and gently handed it to her.
She took it into her hands with care. It was so fragile and delicate that she didn't want to break it or press the wrong button.
"I already put a new roll of film in," he said. "Do you know how to work it?"
"No?"
He laughed. "Okay. I will teach you. It's not too difficult."
Faith nodded, turning it over in her hands. Then she looked up and met her father's eyes. "Thank you, dad. I really appreciate it."
He smiled at her. "Of course. Anything for you."

Faith wasn't sure if this was simply a ploy to get back in her good books, of if her father suddenly developed a genuine interest in her life. Developed a desire to please her and give her such a kind, thoughtful gift. Either way, Faith really did appreciate it. And she decided that it didn't matter, the motive. It was the act itself that counted. It was all that really mattered.

Around quarter-to-one, Faith and Mike gathered up their things and began preparing for their departure. William walked with them to the elevator and down to the lobby. He stood there at the front entrance of his building, staring at his children, at a loss of words. There was so much that he wanted to say, but didn't quite know how to start.

"Thank you," he said to them. "For coming. It means a lot to me."
"Anytime, dad," Mike said, giving him a hug goodbye.
Faith looked at her father. "It wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I'll have to come by again soon."
"I'd really love that," he said, then closed the space between them and gave her a hug.
She stayed in his arms for what felt like a long time, her head on his chest, breathing in the familiar fatherly smell of him.
When he pulled away, he looked in her eyes. "Love you kiddo," he said, then turned to Mike. "Safe driving now, alright?"
"Will do," Mike saluted him.
"Call me when you get home."
They said goodbye in unison, then turned around and headed to the car.

______

The drive home went by faster than it felt on the way there. Faith always found that was how it went. The drive to your destination felt longer, more anticipated. Coming home was always shorter.

They arrived home just after three o'clock. Claudia was in the backyard, attempting to tend to the thing she called a garden. Apparently everyone in Meadow had gardens. Just like how everyone in Meadow fished and went to church. It was a thing.

"How was your weekend?" Claudia said as she stood from the garden and watched her children approach.
"It was good actually," Faith spoke first.
"Ditto," Mike said. He slung his bag over his shoulder.
"You didn't complain too much, did you Faith?"
"I didn't, mom."
Claudia turned to Mike, as if for a confirmation. "She was fine," he said.
"Well good, I'm glad you had a good time."
"I'm going to put my stuff away," Mike said, then disappeared into the house.
"How was your weekend?" Faith asked, bouncing back and forth between her feet.
"It was nice. I enjoyed the alone time."
"I'm sure it was heavenly for you."
Claudia smiled. "Of course I did miss my babies though."
"You don't have to lie, it's fine. We get it – we're obnoxious."
Claudia laughed. "What did you do? Was your father good with you guys?" Claudia placed the tiny tool in her hand onto the ground. "Here, come inside and we can talk."
Faith followed her mother through the backdoor and into the kitchen. Claudia removed her sunglasses and her sunhat and placed them on the kitchen table. She went to the sink and washed her hands before opening the fridge and bringing out a jug of lemonade.
"Want some?" she held it up. "Freshly squeezed."
"Sure," Faith said, settling in at the kitchen table.
Claudia poured them both a glass, then walked over to sit beside her daughter. "So," she said, handing Faith the glass. "Tell me."
"It was fine," Faith said, taking a sip. "Mmm, not bad."
"Did your father ask about me?"
"He did."
"And...?"
"I said you were fine. What else would I say?"
"I'm not sure."
"Oh, that reminds me – we're supposed to call him when we get home."
"Okay, you can call in a minute," Claudia said. "What did you do?"
"We hung out, watched movies, went for dinner. He took me around downtown. We went to the Eaton Center. And the CN Tower."
"He took you up?"
"Yeah."
"Wow, how nice. Did you enjoy it?"
"I did. It was pretty cool."
"Where did you go for dinner?"
"Uh," Faith had forgotten the name already. "Some Garden place?"
"The Garden?"
"I think so."
Claudia nodded, indulging in every detail that her daughter gave her. "And..." she said. "What did you get?"
"Oh my God, do you want me to make you a list of the calories as well?"
"Sorry," Claudia said, sitting back in her chair. "I'm done. As long as you had a good time."
"I did. It wasn't as bad as I thought."
"And why do you think that is?"
Faith shrugged. "I guess I'm just a close-minded person."
"It takes a certain kind of person to admit that."
"Admit what? That I'm closed-minded?"
"Yes."
"Well, I guess I'm evolving then."
Claudia smiled at her daughter and gave her hand a little squeeze. "As long as you're happy, then I'm happy. Now, go call your father."