CHARACTER

Dustin “Dusty” Franklin

Quick Facts

Who He Is

Dustin “Dusty” Franklin is the “missing piece” of Tiger’s life whose sudden emergence turns grief into inquiry. He’s never physically present, yet his shadow reshapes the story: a former teacher undone by addiction, a father who chose absence, and a man who still sounds genuinely remorseful. Dusty embodies the truth that biological roots can both illuminate and complicate identity. He offers Tiger ancestry and resemblance—dark hair, freckles, a shared sense of humor—without the stability she longs for, pushing her toward a clearer sense of self and the limits of blood.

Personality & Traits

We meet Dusty through fragments—other people’s stories, a single phone call, and the fallout of his choices. Together they sketch a man who is intelligent, charming, and often warm, but ultimately unreliable. His character matters because it contrasts Tiger’s yearning for a perfect parent with the reality of a deeply flawed one, forcing her to redefine what family can mean.

  • Intelligent, once promising: A history teacher who “was good at it,” Dusty’s past signals real ability and care for ideas. That promise makes his collapse—and its impact on his daughters—more tragic.
  • Addicted and unstable: Years of alcoholism cost him jobs and homes; his life becomes a trail of moves—Albuquerque, Austin, Socorro—and eventually prison. Addiction isn’t just backstory; it structures his failure to show up.
  • Remorseful but limited: On the phone he’s gruff, sad, and direct about regret: “Things get away from you sometimes, and you can’t get them back.” He recognizes harm yet can’t undo it.
  • Charismatic, intermittently engaging: He once won June’s love, and on the call he livens up discussing comedy. The warmth is real, which makes his negligence harder to forgive.
  • Negligent, a source of harm: He knew about Tiger and stayed away; with Shayna, he made her drive at eleven to collect him from bars. His charm never matures into responsibility.

Character Journey

Dusty does not change on the page; Tiger’s perception of him does. First, he’s an absence—“The Person Who Shall Not Be Named”—then a name in a voicemail that ignites hope. The caseworker’s revelation reframes him as “inmate number 24491,” puncturing fantasies of rescue. Their phone call doesn’t redeem him, but it humanizes him: not a monster, not a savior, but a flawed man with a voice, humor, and remorse. This shift helps Tiger move from idealizing a lost father to accepting the complicated truth of her parentage—an acceptance that nudges her away from mythic biology toward the sturdier ground of chosen connections.

Key Relationships

  • Tiger Tolliver: Dusty is Tiger’s father, discovered in the midst of her grief and loss. Their single ten-minute call matters less for content than for confirmation: there is a living person on the other end who shares her jokes and freckles, offering belonging without safety. The relationship becomes a delicate thread—thin, imperfect, yet still a thread—to a past Tiger is brave enough to face.

  • June Tolliver: Dusty’s relationship with June was passionate enough to make him leave his first family, yet unstable enough that she ultimately raised Tiger alone, choosing secrecy over risky contact. Their occasional communications after the breakup hint at a bond that outlasted romance—complicated affection tempered by the hard lesson that love can’t cure addiction.

  • Shayna Lee Franklin: Shayna bears the longest scars from Dusty’s alcoholism. Being made to drive at eleven to retrieve him from bars made her self-reliant and wary. Dusty’s failures push the sisters, once strangers, toward each other; he is the fracture that, paradoxically, becomes their bridge.

Defining Moments

Dusty shapes the novel from offstage; each revelation redefines what “father” means for Tiger.

  • The Revelation (Bonita’s voicemail): Hearing his name transforms him from myth to man and launches Tiger’s search. It’s the first tug on the thread of family history she’s been denied.
  • The Disappointment (the caseworker’s news): Learning he’s incarcerated destroys the fantasy of immediate rescue and legal guardianship, forcing Tiger to confront adulthood without a parental safety net.
  • The First Contact (the phone call): Hearing his voice turns paperwork into personhood. Shared humor and his request that she call again plant a fragile seed of connection—hope calibrated by realism.

Essential Quotes

“His name is Dusty Franklin and he used to live in Albuquerque, and then Austin, and then Socorro, and then I don’t know.” This list of cities reads like the itinerary of addiction—movement without progress. For Tiger, the name and trail of places are both proof and puzzle: he exists, and he’s been slipping away for years.

“He’s currently in a correctional facility in Springer, New Mexico, serving six to ten years. By the time he gets out, you’ll be over eighteen.” The blunt timeline collapses Tiger’s hope that biology might fix her immediate crisis. It reframes Dusty from possible guardian to inaccessible figure—present enough to complicate, absent enough to be useless.

“I was good at it, too, until I wasn’t. Things get away from you sometimes, and you can’t get them back.” Dusty’s self-assessment is both confession and epitaph for his former life as a teacher, partner, and father. The line captures the core tragedy: remorse without repair, clarity without capacity.

“I would like it if you’d call me, Grace. I’d like that very much. I can tell you some things you should know. Yes.” Using Tiger’s given name, Grace, he reaches for intimacy and continuity—what he can offer are stories, not shelter. The hesitating “Yes” signals frailty and hope, a small opening that acknowledges both their connection and its limits.