“No,” I said.
“No?” He sounded hurt, but I knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I can get on board with the other options, but we arenotpainting your mom’s house black because it matches my hair.”
“Hmm,” Sully hummed, close enough to me that I could feel his chest vibrate. “I think it is sort ofyourhouse now, Eleanor.”
“Then we are not paintingmyhouse black,” I laughed again. “You can get the other colors, butonlyif I get to pick one of my own out.”
“Why, of course.” Sully took a step back and swept a hand out in front of him, as if to say, “By all means.”
With that cue, I walked up to the wall, scouring it for the right shade of blue.
And when I found it—something that was similar to ceruleanbut called some ridiculous other name, something that was mostly blue but with a tiny touch of London green, something that reminded me of the ocean and the seas we’d gotten a little lost in—I stood on my toes and held it up to his face.
Right next to his eyes.
“There.”
Sully didn’t look at the color, but he did look at me.
“Yeah, El?”
“Yeah.” I nodded resolutely. “This one will do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
sully
“AND WHAT TROUBLE DO we have going on here?”
I stopped short at the sound of Susan Summers’ voice floating across the street. Ellie, who’d already gotten out of the car with two bags of painting supplies in her hand, seemed to have frozen, too.
“No trouble here, Mrs. Summers!” I yelled back through the open car window and then forced myself to move, kicking the door ajar. I’d just asked Ellie about talking to her mom, and she hadn’t been sure if she was ready. So if I needed to spearhead this conversation, I would. “Just doing a few house projects.”
“Does Annie know what you’re up to?”
I laughed as I got out of the car and grabbed the paint samples from the back seat. “Believe it or not, she has given me—us—free rein.”
“You don’t say?” Ellie’s mom was shutting the door to her own car, leaning against it with her keys in hand. She still wore her Patio uniform, making me wonder if we’d been following her home without even realizing it. “And youknowyou can call me Susan, Sullivan.”
I flashed her a grin, nodding. “I know. How are you, Susan?”
“Good,” she said, and I searched for Ellie in my peripheral,wanting to gauge how she was doing. “Just getting home from a shift.”
“Summer rush slowing down?” Ellie asked, and something inside me settled as she came around the car to stand next to me. Her expression remained neutral, but she moved like she was a little unsure of herself.
“A bit, yeah,” Susan said before sighing. “Well, you kids have fun. Do you need anything? It’s been, well, a while since I’ve done any painting, but I could probably dig some supplies out if you need something.”
Even as she said the words, Susan grimaced a little, and Ellie shifted on her feet.
Unspoken words lingered between them, and I knew Ellie had her doubts that her mom would be able to find any supplies in the house, which created a familiar pang of sadness in my chest. I’d spent most of my teenage years making sure Ellie knew she had a home across the street if she ever needed it, and I was doing the same thing now. But that didn’t mean I didn’t wish she could have something that was hers, too.Herroom inherhouse that she could go home to.
“We picked up a lot of stuff at Bud’s today, but if you stumble on any step stools, we could use them,” Ellie said with a half-smile, surprising me.
We had step stools in our garage, but maybe she wanted to give her mom a chance.
“I’ll take a look,” Susan said, matching her daughter’s expression—a little wary, a little hopeful.
