“Hi, I’m Tabby, thank you, I’m giving it to sick kids,” Tabby answered in the direct, proud manner of a child with a mission.
“Stop!” Blake’s eyes got huge, and she clutched herchest in a way that was so over-dramatic it looped all the way around to sincere. “Really?”
Tabby nodded enthusiastically.
“Seriously?” Blake repeated, as though she could not possibly believe someone so small could do something so selfless. “Oh my god, that’s the sweetest thing ever!” She pivoted instantly to Deacon. “Can I interview her for my school newspaper?”
The request caught him off guard, he’d expected maybe a wave, a polite hello, but not a full-court press request. “Um…”
“Blake!” Jenna’s voice sliced through the moment, and the warning was unmistakable.
“Sorry.” Blake backed off with an apologetic cringe that, Deacon noted, looked exactly like one he’d seen Jenna make at the Trivia Night when she’d gotten an answer wrong. Blake then composed herself and extended a hand to Deacon, like a greeting in an old 1940s film. “I’m Blake Ford. I’m Jenna’s daughter, and I’m a freshman in?—”
“Blake, I wasn’t telling you to introduce yourself,” Jenna clarified, her voice more clipped now. She shot her daughter a look that Deacon recognized. Cillian’s dad gave that look that said:“Don’t make me come over there.”
Blake appeared confused. “Well then what?—”
Deacon realized they were in a conversational standoff where a third party intervention was required. “What would the article be about, exactly?”
Blake brightened immediately, happy to be back on solid ground. “So, I think it’s super dope that Tabby would do something so selfless at—wait, how old are you?” She turned to Tabby.
Tabby held up her hand. “Five.”
“Right, at five!” Blake continued, as if Tabby’sanswer had confirmed all of her best suspicions about the world. “Anyway, I think that teenagers can be really self-involved—no offense to me, but we totally can—and after I started volunteering for We-C-U, it’s this app where you help people do random things, it can be anything from tutoring someone for a math quiz or helping getting someone ready for a cheer try out, or like, the other day I helped this woman who was visually impaired find her earring that she dropped. She was eighty and said that was the longest anyone had talked to her in months, which made me so sad cause the lady, Barbara, she is dope. So I thought about doing an article about serving others, and how if everyone does something that’s not aboutthem, then how much better the world would be.”
Deacon blinked. Those were his thoughts exactly. That was the entire idea that started his app. He’d originally wanted to call it Help me, Help you after the line in Jerry Maguire, but he’d decided against it. He wanted people to feel seen instead.
“People don’t always make the connection that little things matter.”
Blake’s eyes sparked with excitement. “Right? I mean, it’s not like donating blood or volunteering for a soup kitchen is going to change the whole world overnight, but every time someone does something nice, it adds up. Like, a million little dominoes. I wrote this thing for English about the ripple effect, and Mrs. Stevens said it was—” she made air quotes, “—‘philosophical and unexpectedly poignant for a narrative essay.’”
“Nice.” He agreed, both with Blake’s take on the world and to let her interview his daughter. “Okay. Sure, if Tabby wants to, you can interview her.”
Tabby raised her hand. “Tabby wants to.”
Deacon was pretty sure his daughter had no clue what she was agreeing to but was just excited for the attention.
“Thank you!” Blake’s entire face lit up, and he wasn’t sure how Jenna ever said no to her.
He wasn’t sure what Jenna’s opinion was on him agreeing to let her daughter interview his. He couldn’t read how she felt about it. She looked…blank.
“Are there any products in her hair, like detangler, or leave-in conditioner?” Jenna changed the subject, her voice held no inflection whatsoever.
“No.” Deacon shook his head. “I braided it right after her bath, and then she wanted space buns today, so I didn’t put anything in it.”
“Perfect. Okay, I’m going to braid it and then I’ll cut it so it will be this short.” Jenna showed Blake how short her hair would end up being by tucking it.
His little girl’s face looked somehow even littler with her hair shorter. She looked like a little pixie.
Tabby cheered. “Yay!”
“Oh!” Blake dug into her bag. “Can I take pictures? For the article?”
“Is it online?” Deacon didn’t want any photos of his daughter online. He’d had enough of that in his lifetime.
“It’s both online and print, but I won’t put any photos online. I’ll only use the photos for the print edition.” Blake negotiated with the confidence of a seasoned lawyer.
He considered, then nodded. “Deal.”
