“Are you gonna get some?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Too pricey to be worth it.”
“Oh.”
One of the things I’d learned from interning at Rose City was, sometimes the best teas weren’t the most practical for a business.
I guess I understood that.
“You want the rest?” He grabbed a paper pouch covered in Japanese writing.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Thanks!”
“All right,” Landon said. “We’d better go. Pick me up at nine?”
“Sure. Have fun. Make smart choices. Be safe.”
“Don’t be weird.”
Mr. Edwards just laughed as Landon led me out.
Dad’s car was gone when I punched in the code to the garage door.
I untied my black Sambas and stuck them in the shoe rack while the door rumbled shut behind us.
Landon kicked off his shoes and slotted them next to mine, then followed me into the living room.
“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” I said, even though I’d vacuumed over the weekend.
“Don’t be.”
I checked the fridge for a note or something.
“Everything okay?”
“My dad was supposed to be home.”
I sent him a text to ask where he was.
Landon had come over before, but Mom or Dad had always been home.
The back of my neck prickled.
I checked all the counters, and the table too, but there was no sign of where Dad had gone, just a pile of dishes in the sink. As soon as Landon saw them, he rolled up his sleeves and started washing them.
“I can do those,” I said.
“I like doing them.”
“I’ll dry, then.”
I stood next to Landon, taking plates and bowls and glasses and drying them with one of the blue-and-white tea towels Mom seemed to have an endless supply of.
Our dishwasher had broken over the summer, and with Mom and Dad’s savings depleted from our trip to Iran, we hadn’t been able to replace it.
