“Just a house? Are you blind?”
“No,” I mumble, staring at the house. “I’m not blind. I see everything that’s special and heartbreaking.”
“Heartbreaking?”
I nod. “It’s heartbreaking because the people who live here have hired someone to inspirelife.” I touch my palm to the window as if the view before me is a picture in a frame. “But it could just as easily house kids, a dog, maybe a bird or two.Laughter could bounce off the walls and echo in the rafters. But either way, it’s just four walls and a roof.”
“June, that place has a lot more than four walls.”
I face him and grin. “You know what I mean.”
He bobs his head. “Yes and no. You’re much smarter than me.”
I want to lean forward and kiss him, but I fear he’ll deny me again.
“No kids. No bird,” he says. “But there’s a cat. After the matinee (with those ridiculous subtitles), Mrs. Rawlings mentioned wanting a cat, so I took her to a shelter. Of course, her grumpy husband doesn’t like cats, but she ended up adopting one anyway.”
“You went to a matinee today?”
He sighs with a frown. “Unfortunately. This job is so random. I’m sure Mr. Rawlings loves that he no longer has to take her to movies with subtitles.”
“And then you took her to adopt a cat?”
He nods. “Why are you grinning like that? I know, it’s a stupid job. Rich people are stupid. Well, they’re probably not actually stupid, but they do stupid things. Too much money makes you?—”
“Stupid?” I laugh.
“Exactly.”
“Let’s go knock on their door,” I say.
“What?” Flynn’s face sours.
I open my door. “Let’s go say hi.”
“You don’t stop and say hi to your boss.” He turns off the car and jumps out when I close the door, making my way to the sidewalk. “June, I just saw them a little over an hour ago. This is weird and a terrible idea.” I grab her wrist, and she turns toward me.
“They’re just people, Flynn.”
“Rich people.”
“Sad people,” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m off the clock. It’s not my job to inspire anyone at the moment.”
“Kindness isn’t a job. You don’t have to inspire anyone. We’ll just say hi.” I pull out of his hold and continue toward their front door.
“Jesus. This is crazy. What am I supposed to say when Mr. Rawlings answers the door? They might not even be here. Maybe they’ve gone to dinner at some fancy schmancy place.”
“Maybe,” I say before ringing the doorbell. “If that’s the case, then we’ll leave.”
“I think we should break up,” he says with the grumpiest expression.
I giggle until I feel it in my belly, until the front door opens.
The man at the door resembles George Clooney. It’s striking, really. He eyes Flynn with confusion before softening his gaze for me. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi. I’m June, Flynn’s friend. We just happened to be in the neighborhood, so Flynn showed me your house. And I suggested we pop in and say hi.”
