Dave wasn’t coordinated enough to use chopsticks, but he’d still tried. Until his hunger outweighed his desire to succeed and he’d gotten himself a fork.
She hadn’t given him a hard time about it either.
“I was downtown getting the things I needed for you…you know, your GED thing, and I saw that they were hiring for part-time teachers for adult classes at the community college.” She took a bite and chewed like she was annoyed at herself.
She swallowed and dug around in her container again. “And I guess I thought I was hot shit for a minute because I went home and filled out the application.”
She’d been ranting for the better part of an hour.
Dave had to admit, she was hilarious when she was pissed off. And when she was hilarious, she was even hotter.
How that worked out, he couldn’t explain. It was a fact he was just discovering for himself.
Also, it had been the right call to cancel the reservations.
This was what she needed.
If he’d let her get all dolled up and they’d gone out, she would’ve kept all this inside and felt obligated to put a mask on for the public.
He didn’t want that.
When they did go out, he wanted to know she was just as much present for it as he was.
He always wanted her to be free to express herself. Even if she was having the worst day ever.
They were sitting on her velvet sectional facing one another, their legs stretched out between them. She’d changed from her teacher clothes into a soft pair of gray yoga pants and a long sleeved light pink sweater. Her hair was out of the braids and hung in messy twists just past her shoulders.
He hadn’t changed for the obvious reason that he didn’t have anything else to wear.
Though he did consider it when she offered a pair of Kara’s yoga pants.
He’d taken off his jacket and vest and rolled his sleeves up.
The suit pants kept trying to ride up in a very uncomfortable way but he ignored it.
Or did his best at it.
She glanced up, a new thought hitting her. “And why is it that I have to apply online but they have to send me an official letter in the mail to let me know I’m not good enough? Couldn’t they email me? Why waste the paper? So stupid. The whole system is rigged.
“And I’m not even mad they rejected me. Not really. They’re just doing what they do. I’m mad at my mom for making this such a sucky part of my life.” She rolled her eyes, her mouth turning down. “This is how it’s going to be forever too, and I know it. I will always have to work for rich people who can afford to get higher-end background checks.” She huffed. “Damn it, that makes me sound so ungrateful and judgey. I love being a tutor. I like working for the families I work for. But sometimes I wish I had a few more options.” She stuck her chopstick in the container and looked at him plainly. “The community college would have been so neat, you know.” Her voice took on a wistful quality. “Adults continuing to learn because theywantto. It’s awesome. I would’ve loved to be a part of that.
“But yeah, mom, thanks for making sure your life of crime will have a lasting effect on the rest of my life.” She made a throaty growl. “Did I tell you that I secretly think she only had me so she could eventually try to steal my identity?”
“What?” he said, laughing even though it wasnotfunny.
Sabine rolled her eyes. “It’s true. My mom is actually the worst person I have ever known.”
He shifted uncomfortably, fighting back the urge to start defending a woman he’d never met.
“When I have kids, I’ll never make them feel like that. I’m going to love them. No matter what they look like or what they want to be. I’m going to do all the fun stuff, too. Glitter willnotbe a forbidden substance in my house.”
“She didn’t let you have glitter?” Dave asked. Of all the things he’d heard about Sabine’s mom, that one struck him as the oddest. Who didn’t like glitter?
The look Sabine gave him told him that that wasn’t even the weirdest thing.
“She was always mad at me for liking little kid things. Like mermaids and face paint. One time she found a Barbie a friend had given me, and gave me a huge lecture on maturity and how I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I played with toys. I was six.”
“Is that why you have fun buttons on your cardigans?” he asked.