“She must be really pretty,” she said when I finished.
“She’s brighter than the sun,” I said. “I always wished that I could help you see, but even more ever since I met her.”
“Oh wow, I’ve never heard you so poetic. I can feel the way she must look.”
“I guess that’s something.”
There was a pause. “You think a boy will ever say that about me?” she asked.
I suddenly remember this was my baby sister. “I’m pretty sure they already do, honey,” I said. “But you better believe I’m not letting them do anything more than say it.”
She giggled that musical laugh. “Aw, my hero. See, you have it in you. You’ll be fine.”
I crashed on the edge of my bed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, just be that sweet, charming guy. Show that girl’s dad how well you treat the people you care about.”
Was it that simple? I imagined a little punk of a kid coming up to me and asking to take Sarah out. I’d study him the same way I’d be studied tonight.
“You make a lot of sense,” I said.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I
am
surprised. You’re seven years younger than me.”
“Yeah, but I’m a girl, so we’re like basically the same age. Plus on top of that,
I’m blind so -” she put on a breathy voice - “doesn’t that really mean I see the world clearer?”
I smiled and we chatted a bit more. I tried to get her to hang in my place and she refused again. When I finally let it go and hung up, my mind felt as clear as the streets after a passing storm.
Silvio looked up when I plopped back down on the sofa next to him.
“Your aura’s totally different man.”
“Good,” I said. “Now let’s watch some goddamn cartoons.”
By the time he left. By the time I showered and dressed. By the time I eased into my car, ground out of my gravel lot and onto the highway, I was more than good.
I was ready.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Gabrielle
I paced in the lobby, peeking out through the glass. The kitchen clinked with soft sounds from the dishwasher from the hallway behind me and the air was rich with the scent of roasted chicken and garlic.
My parents’ murmurs leaked down the hall once in a while, always too low for me to hear. I already knew the gist of them though. They were talking contingency plans.
“I don’t know what good this’ll do,” Dad had said when I’d first brought up the idea. “You’re set on being with this boy no matter what I say.”
“That’s why you need to meet him. You’ve got to see the good that’s in him.”
“Being a good man is one thing, sweetheart,” he’d said, clasping my hands between his large firm ones. “But I want more than good for you. I want you to have a bright future.”
“He’s really good at what he does,” I said. “I’ve seen him.”
“Fight?” my mom had asked.
“Yeah, but it’s not just a street fight. There are rules. There’s strategy.”
“Fantastic,” my father had said. “We can discuss Clausewitz.”
My mom and he had chuckled, but I yanked my hand away.
“I’m doing this for you,” I sulked.
Gina had been working at the kitchen table and watching this performance, but I didn’t care. In truth, I was more trying to convince myself this wasn’t crazy.
“Alright, alright,” my father finally said. “Bring your fighter. I’ll give him his time in the ring.”
Light bloomed in the dark street outside. I held my breath as it grew, and then Sean’s SUV rolled into view and parked across the street.
I hadn’t told him anything about how to prepare. I was already scared asking him for this favor. My heart nearly seized as his door creaked open.
A black leather shoe and the sleeves of dark pants slid out. It was a good start, but when he came out into view and I had to hold back a gasp.
Sean was wearing a full three piece suit.
He checked himself in the mirror then crossed and started up the cobblestone walkway. With the lawn lights cast on him, he looked like a Forbes magazine model. His suit fit his form exactly, his hard edges cast shadows on themselves and his blonde hair looked golden.
This wasn’t fighter Sean. This was business Sean. If he walked into a room, people would think he was a CEO.
I looked through the peephole as he paused and adjusted his tie at the door. I let him knock once, then peeled the door back.
“Hi there, stranger,” I said.
He smiled broadly, and looked me over up and down. I had on a soft cream skirt and blouse - nothing special. His gaze was fit for a queen, especially coming from those gorgeous green eyes.
Sean gathered me in a tight hug and whispered into my ear. “Hey, Cadbury.”
“Hey yourself,” I whispered back. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure, it’s every guy’s dream to meet his boo’s parents five dates in.”
He turned his admiring look to our tall airy lobby, fixing on the chandelier that dangled far above. The look on his face was like a kid gazing at a rocket taking off. I cut the urge to downplay the money we had and instead saw my house the way he saw it.
“Do people get killed by those things falling?” he asked. “Is that like the main way rich people die?”
“No, that would be private plane crashes.”
“I see. So I guess I have to worry about
you
falling instead?”
I smacked him on the back. “Ok, you
know
we’re nowhere near that rich.”
“Gabrielle?” my father’s voice boomed down the hallway. “Are you going to bring your guest in, or should we move this table out there?”
Sean’s body went rigid, but I hooked him by the elbow and led him down the hall. Dad wasn’t an executioner or something, though I could imagine how it must feel. He was still passing judgment.
And I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t matter to either of us.
Sean’s eyes popped again as we came into the wide island kitchen setup. He looked at the gleaming metal stoves and the spotless granite counters. His gaze finally shifted left and saw my family waiting at the dining table.
My dad sat on one edge of the long side. He didn’t look all that intimidating in his loose black polo, but his arms lay folded and his face was covered by a veil of steam from the green bean casserole before him. He studied Sean like he was a prototype someone had brought in for approval. Gina sat next to him, looking at Sean like he was blurry, and Mom took the other end wearing a forced smile.
“Hi there,” Sean said, tipping his head.
I led him over by the seats across from them.
“Mmm mmm,” Sean said. “This smells freaking amazing. Gabi, you make this?”
“No, Mom’s the Cajun cook in this house.”
The table held a chicken jambalaya with a fiery smell and a small okra soup along with the green beans. Sean eyed it hungrily, and I could feel Dad waiting to see just what he would do.
Sean caught himself. He came around and offered his hand to Dad.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said.
“Same.” My father stood and shook his hand. “Sean, is it?”
“Yes, sir. Sean Smith. Pretty basic name - in some circles at least.”
“Hmph. I’m Clay Williams. This is Gabrielle’s sister, Regina, and my wife, Leah.”
“You look lovely, ladies,” Sean said, with a curt bow. “Thanks for having me over.”
My sister blushed, and my mom’s smile turned genuine. I was filled with a strange mix of pride and a dash of jealousy. He could win women over so easy.
“Please, sit.” Dad gestured to the chair across. “Let’s eat.”
We sat. Mom went around ladling soup and rice and sides into the trays before us.
“Thanks,” Sean said, but he looked confused.
I could see why. Mom was a traditionalist when it came to serving guests. She’d grown up in New Orleans before coming to U Mich for college. My grandparents had been solidly middle class, but down in the Big Easy, a girl was never too rich or too educated to get her hands dirty with a little hospitality. I think I got that message way more than Dad liked.
Sean waited until my dad took his first forkful of fluffy yellow rice before eating his own.
“This is amazing, Mrs. Williams,” Sean said with genuine enthusiasm. “I’ve never tasted anything this good.”
“Really?” I asked. It was good, but mom made this every month. I took another bite and really chewed. The sausage was plump and juicy and the chicken was full of rich broth flavor. I could make it just a bit better, but it was still good. This was the sort of food that had gotten me interested in cooking to begin with.
“Oh, sorry, doll,” Sean said, patting my shoulder. “Your restaurant food was good too.”
“You know I don’t cook there either.”
“Well, if you have half your mom’s talent, you definitely should start.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Sean,” my mother said.
The content munching lasted a few minutes longer, before my dad cleared his throat.
“So the restaurant,” he said. “That’s where you met Gabi?”
My breath stalled as I thought of that first night. I stared at the side of Sean’s face, willing him to keep this thing PG.
“Yeah, that’s where the magic happened,” Sean said. “I’d come in to celebrate with my friends and Gabi here was the one willing to handle our table.”
“Is that so?” Dad looked at me.
“It’s my job,” I said.
“Oh she did better than her job. She’s got excellent customer service.”
I landed a hand on Sean’s thigh, just as a precaution.
“Gabrielle’s actually studying chemistry in school. This is just a summer thing for her.”
“I’m aware of what a genius she is, sir. I’m just saying she does even the small things right along the way.”
Dad pursed his lips and nodded. A few more bites passed and even I managed to get a spoon of soup in. I knew I had invited this upon us, but now all I wanted was for Sean to get a draw here.
“You were at the restaurant celebrating a fight victory?” my dad said.
“Yeah, that’s what I do.”
“This mixed martial arts thing, right? I’ve seen a bit. It looks quite brutal.”
“It is. They’ve got rules to try to keep the vitals safe, but you’re right. It’s quite dangerous.”
“I’ve seen a couple cases in the ER at the hospital,” Mom said.
“None from me, I promise you that,” Sean said. “I’m only in it for clean wins.”
“How’d you get into it?” my Dad asked.
His eyes were completely off his food now. We were getting to the meat of the dinner. Sean read the “how” correctly as a “why.”
“I might look cut and all now, but I only got into a few tussles at school. I was lucky enough to realize it was something I could do. Our school gym had weights so I trained every day and did some practice fights. Once I realized it was going somewhere, I went into it full steam.”
“You left school for it?”
“No, no, I graduated. But after that, fighting seemed like the more obvious path than more school. If you’re good at something don’t look back, right?”
My dad went back to his food, but it wasn’t a good sign. I patted Sean’s leg and he looked at me, puzzled.
I wished I could tell him that he’d been so darn close. Dedication and hard work - that my dad appreciated. Blindly pursuing a narrow target was outside his comfort zone.
“So Gabi,” Sean said. “Do you cook a lot at home, at least?”
“Not too much.”
“The girls are always so busy,” my mom chimed in.
“That’s right.” Sean turned to Gina. “You’re still in high school? What grade?”
“Uh, eleventh,” Gina said, looking more like a first grader in her bashfulness.
“Eleventh? Same year as my sister then.”
“Oh, that’s lovely,” my mom said. “She must be applying for college soon as well?”
“Yeah, maybe soon.”
“Perhaps she and Regina can help each other out.”
“Perhaps,” my dad said curtly.
A silence stretched across the table.
“Sarah actually might not be going to college,” Sean said.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” my mom said.
Her cheerfulness was gone though, and my dad was tucking into his food hard. It seemed like he had gotten enough information about this family. My appetite had vanished.
“What does she want to do?” Gina asked, suddenly.
“Oh she wants to go study art,” Sean said. “The problem is that it’s tough to find a place that will accommodate blind students.”
The silverware screeched to a halt. All eyes were on Sean - not least, my own.
“I didn’t know your sister was blind,” I said.
“She doesn’t like people to know, though it’s kinda hard to hide if you meet her.
“I’m so sorry to hear that Sean,” my mom said.