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Sean’s mouth got tight.
“Mm. That’s a terrible reason to steal. Starving isn’t life or death or anything.”
He breathed deep and shook his head, mumbling, “This is fuckin’ bullshit. You’re judging me ’cause of the shit I did for you. How’s that any different?”
“Good deeds hold more weight, especially when they aren’t motivated or asked of a person. They show true character. The person you are deep down. What life can’t touch, no matter how bad it can be sometimes.” I watched his eyes slowly return to mine. “You saw me crying, Sean, and you could’ve just walked inside and left me, but you didn’t. That’s not nothing to nobody. Not even close.”
His chest rose slowly, and his lips parted.
“I don’t think any different of you.”
“You should.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Sean clenched his jaw and looked away. I knew he was getting frustrated with me, and I didn’t want that frustration to turn into anger. So I changed topics while still holding firm to my ground.
“Now, as your friend, I’m going to request a quick tour before I gather up my brothers and leave, since I did believe you when you said you had work to do. But I’m getting that fucking tour. Friends get tours.” I smiled up at him after I spoke, then I turned and took three steps in the direction of the hallway, leading to what I assumed were bedrooms, before turning back. “Coming?” I asked.
Sean slowly turned his head, met my eyes, looked distantly at the floor for a brief moment, and then rubbed at his mouth while uttering a curse before moving toward me.
“Why’d you break into a car?” he asked.
“There was a puppy inside, and the asshole owner didn’t even crack a window. It was nearly a hundred degrees out,” I told him. “That puppy could’ve died.”
Sean stopped in front of me. “You risked goin’ to jail to save a dog?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
“Yep. And I’d do it again too,” I replied, smiling up at him.
His eyes lowered to my mouth.
I smiled bigger.
“Now, I’d like that tour please,” I requested, gesturing toward the hallway.
Sean lifted his gaze to mine, breathed deep, and then moved around me.
I got my tour.My parents came home on Sunday.
After exchanging hugs and getting filled in on how Pop was doing, plus hearing stories of Nana and the little packrat she had apparently become, I fessed up to the mistakes I’d made before Sean stepped in to help me out.
Dad didn’t hide his disappointment—I should’ve told them I was having trouble immediately when it started happening. Mom didn’t seem disappointed at all—she knew what was being asked of me and expected some difficulty on my end.
They both, however, seemed in agreement on Sean. Especially when Dominic and Eli got to talking about him.
“What kind of bike?” Dad asked after hearing about the rides the boys had taken.
“A Harley. Black and chrome,” Dominic answered.
Dad nodded appreciatively. I could tell he respected Sean not only for what he did, but also for his taste in motorcycles.
My parents also noticed the change in Dominic, and then they really appreciated Sean, Mom especially.
Using my stationery, she scribbled out a thank-you note and left it to me to pass along.
I couldn’t wait to see Sean’s reaction to that. He always looked so captivated by those little cards.
My parents stayed for lunch, then I walked with them outside to say my goodbyes.
“So?” Mom whispered, stopping at the front of their car while Dad and the boys filed in. “Is he like, a friend friend?”
“Mom,” I groaned. God. No way was I talking about this with her.
She kissed my cheek. “Well, we would love to meet him sometime. Maybe we’ll all go out to dinner one night. How about that?”
I wasn’t sure how receptive Sean would be to that idea, or any idea involving my parents. The man wasn’t exactly pushing for a connection. But I gave my mom two enthusiastic thumbs up as I backed away.
Smiling, she piled into the car with the rest of the family and they pulled off, waving out the windows.Now, it was Sunday afternoon, and I was anticipating the arrival of my next client.
Valerie had messaged me yesterday, the sweet woman from Frank’s Pizza with the two adorable daughters. She was taking me up on my offer on non-pink hair, and wasn’t wasting any time doing it either. She jumped right on my opening today when I gave it to her.
I was really looking forward to this appointment. She seemed cool, and really nice.
“Hey!” I greeted her, propping the door open and gesturing for her to come inside. “Oh, no kiddies today?”
She blew out an exhausted breath. “No, thank God. My sister offered to keep them. Otherwise, yikes. They would get into everything. Caroline would find your pink hair color and paint herself from head to toe.”
