Home is Where You Are (13 page)

Now she’s telling me how to be homeless. I love it. “Is
that so?”

“Absolutely.
Think about how much a landscaper charges and then…”

I listen to her
, half amused and the other half impressed. In the time it took me to walk from the shed and back, she has a business plan with the finance and marketing aspects well thought out.

We finish
quickly and get in two more houses before dark. We even get in a leaf fight or two. I make a hundred and fifty bucks! Talk about “raking” it in. I divide the money, handing half the cash to Anna since she helped every step of the way, and most importantly, she made it feel more like hanging out than a job.

 
“Oh no. No. No. No way. That money is yours.” She waves her hands at me and backs away.

I
push the money at her. “You worked too. You deserve the other half.”

“
I’m not here. Remember?” She crosses her arms and looks up at the sky as if that’ll make her invisible. But there’s nothing she can do that’ll make her invisible to me.

“If you don’t take the money
, I’m just going to buy you something with it. So take it.” Never did I think I’d be insisting someone take money from me.

She plants her hands firmly on her hips.
“You are not.”

“Then take it.”

“How about this…keep it and take me out to dinner.”

She’s smooth.
“That I can agree to.”

H
er whole face lights up. I’d want to take her somewhere as classy as she is. Unfortunately, all I own are jeans, t-shirts, and a hoodie. Though, considering she eats frozen prepackaged food on a daily basis, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind keeping it simple.

“Deal then?” S
he holds out her gloved hand and waits for me to shake. I move closer to her, my hand extended. Slowly, I lift my hand, ignoring hers. A leaf peaks out from her hair probably left behind from one of our fights. I pick it out, running my hand down the silky strands, my finger gliding down the soft curve of her face.

“Deal, P
reppy.” Her lips are only inches away. Easily I could lean in. Allow myself to forget about the reality of my life. Pretend Anna is my girlfriend, and we’re just two high school kids looking to make an extra buck.

“So what’s next?” Anna says
, her eyes still focused on mine. I want to stay here forever. Stay in her world and forget about mine, but I promised her my world, and that’s where we’ll go.

“You’ll see.” 

I th
ink Dean’s going to kiss me again. His lips are there and I’m willing. So much so, I almost take it upon myself. Instead, he takes my hand in his, heads away from the yards we just raked and towards the row of strip malls.

Darn. I really thought
he’d kiss me. I push the disappointment aside and try to figure out where he’s bringing me next. In a way it’s fun to imagine how Dean spends his time. Raking isn’t exactly fun, but doing it together was. I’ve never had a leaf fight before. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed that hard.

With Dean it’s easy to be myself. There are no predetermined expectations
and he doesn’t look at me as just the smart girl.

Dean comes to a stop.
A Laundromat?

“We’re here.”

I look at him.

“After I get some cash I come and wash my clothes.”

He must be the cleanest homeless person. He’s cleaner than most guys I go to school with.

The air is hot and thick with the scent of
bleach and fabric softener. I’ve only been in a Laundromat once when our washer broke at home. From what I remember, time stood still and I thought I’d die of boredom.

Dean goes to the washer at the far end and unloads the contents of his backpack into the machine
, including a blanket. At least he has more than just his hoodie and coat.

He buys those small boxes of soap
and pours them into the machines. “Now we wait,” he says and sits beside me.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean ‘nope?’”

“How long will it take for your clothes to wash?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Perfect, just enough time to
grab a slice of pizza next door.” The granola bar I grabbed this morning on my way out did nothing. My stomach has been growling since we started raking the second house.

“I thought we were living in my world?”
he asks, his forehead wrinkling in that cute way.

“Pizza doesn’t exist in your world? It’s probably the cheapest meal you can get.”

“I don’t like leaving my clothes unattended.” Considering pretty much all he owns is in that machine, I guess I can’t blame him.

“I doubt anyone is going to take them. I’m starving
, and if it makes you feel better we can go get the pizza and bring it back here to eat. It’s called compromise,” I say with a smile and walk out the door.

Just like at the coffee place
, I try to pay and Dean intercepts my hand. I go to argue but he beats me to it. Again.

“Technically
, you’re paying. It’s the money from raking, so just consider it like a pre-date to the actual date.” With my arsenal running low on witty comebacks, I settle on rolling my eyes. 

We take the pizza back to the
Laundromat. “Your clothes are still here. Can I just say I told you so?”

He puts his pizza down and looks up at me
. “No,” he says then bites his pizza.

“Well
, I told you so.”

As soon as we finish our pizza the machine stops spinning. Dean transfers his clothes to the
dryer and we sit. And sit. And sit.

“Do you ever get scared?” I ask. Just thinking about sleeping outside or walking the streets in the middle of the night sends chills up my spine.

“When you have nothing to lose
, what’s there to be scared of?”

I never thought about it
that way. It makes sense…but at the same time, it doesn’t, because I want more for him than that. I have my family—as messed up as it is—Katie, and my education. Dean literally has the clothes on his back and nothing else. What is life if you have nothing to truly live for?

“Has it always been that way for you?” I ask.

He runs his hand through his hair and leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “No. Not always.” His voice is faint, but a world of hurt and pain fill those three words.

I lay my hand beside his elbow, giving him a gentle squeeze, a reassurance that I’m not going anywhere. He looks up, the corner of his lip slightly tugging and without any words, I know he understands.

When his clothes finish drying he folds them and
sticks them back into his backpack. I follow Dean out into the cold and down the street.

“You’re not going to ask what’s next on the
agenda?”

“I think I already have it figured out.”

“Is that so?” he asks and I nod. “We’ll see about that.” He walks into the parking lot of The Bagel Hole, and my heart sinks. It’s still early. Granted, the sun has gone down, but I was hoping for more time together. More time in his world. He just let me in, and I’m not ready to be shut out so quickly.

Relief floods me w
hen Dean doesn’t stop at my car and continues through the parking lot. My curiosity sparks, and I follow until we’re behind the building. I’ve never had a reason to be back here.

Usually the darkness and seclusion would terrify me, but w
ith Dean I feel safe.

There
’s a little bit of light coming from a doorway. Next to the that a dumpster is pushed up against the wall and in front of it two milk crates, turned over and across from each other.

Dean knocks twice on the door.
A few seconds later, the door creaks open and The Bagel Hole guy comes out.

“Dean
, my man,” the guy says, slapping Dean’s hand and pulling him into a guy hug. “And who is this?” The man asks, and when I look at him, recognition crosses his face and he smiles.

“Marv
, this is Anna. Anna, this is Marv.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” I say and stick my hand out
.

“You as well
.” He shakes my hand and looks from me to Dean. “I’ll be right back,” Marv says, and disappears back into the doorway.

“So were you right?” Dean asks
, a sly smirk settling on his face.

“Not exactly.
Who knew you were friends with the bagel store guy.”

Marv steps back outside and hands Dean a brown paper bag, then turns and hands me one.
I look in and smile when I see a cinnamon raisin bagel. We just ate pizza not too long ago, but I don’t want to be rude, and it is a cinnamon raisin after all.  

“Thanks,” I say.

“No problem. I always save a cinnamon raisin bagel just in case Dean decides to grace me with his presence.” It all falls into place. I glance at Marv then to Dean and then to the bags in our hands. “Wait a minute. That day I came in here and wanted a cinnamon raisin bagel and you told me they were all sold out, they weren’t were they? There was one left!”

Marv looks at Dean. I don’t know Marv very well, but he m
ay as well have the word “guilty” tattooed across his forehead.

“I thought I was going crazy
that day. I knew there was one left, and you insisted there wasn’t.”

“Small world,” Marv says
, and he and Dean burst out laughing. I’m glad they find it funny. I was two seconds away from caving and making another appointment with my shrink.

Dean stops laughing.
“You stole her bagel?”

“I didn’t steal it. I simply told her we were out
, and technically we were. I just happened to have forgotten to put your bagel aside that day. So really you stole her bagel.”

Dean takes my hand in his.
“I’m sorry for stealing your bagel.” He cocks his eyebrow and gives me a sad puppy dog look.

I let out an exaggerated sigh.
“I guess I can forgive you.”

Dean motions for me to sit on the milk crate and Marv sits on the other.
He tells us about his daughter and how every gray hair he has is directly related to her.

The way he talks about her
reminds me of Katie. Free-spirited in a way that makes her rebellious and curious in a way that makes her willing to give anything a shot.

“I see you haven’t
eaten your bagel,” Marv says, looking over at me.

“
We just ate pizza not too long ago. Dean treated.”

“Not really. Anna helped me rake a few lawns and refused to take her cut
, so I told her I’ll take her out to dinner with that money.”

“Pizza.
Big spender,” Marv says with a laugh.

“
That was just the pre-dinner date,” I say in Dean’s defense.

“Date
, huh? Well you could take the little lady out more often if you had a steady job.” Dean gives Marv the evil eye.

“
Am I missing something?” I ask.

“Nothing.
Marv’s just talking nonsense.”

“Sometimes you make me wonder why I still let you come around here,” Marv says.

“Because I’ve grown on you.” Dean flashes a smile, and I can tell Marv is more than some guy who gives him bagels.

“I’ve been trying to give this boy a job for God knows how long, but his ass is too proud to accept it.”

“Dean, are you crazy? You could be saving and get yourself off the streets.” He’s a smart guy. I shouldn’t have to explain this. “When does he start?” I ask. I’ve only known Dean for a short time but Marv’s right. He’s too proud which means someone has to put their foot down and not allow him to continue spiting himself.

“He knows he can start whenever he wants. If he wants to be here tomorrow at seven then I will have an apron with his name on it.”

“What do you say?” I ask, since he has been completely silent, his face stone cold.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No.”

“Give me one good reason why not and I won’t track you down tomorrow and drive you
here myself,” I say.

Amusement tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Lucky for me you won’t be able to find me.”

“Then I won’t leave you tonight.
” I cross my arms under my chest, determined to stand my ground.

“Now
that’s an offer I can take you up on.”

Marv shakes his head
at us as he attempts not to laugh.

“So?
” I prod back at Dean. “Do you have a reason?”

“Why are you doing this to me
, Preppy?” he asks, all serious, like I’m making him decide between life and death.

“Maybe you should get off your high horse every now and again and realize
it'sokay to let people help you out sometimes
.
Marv is doing what friends do. He’s looking out for you.”

Marv doesn’t chime in, but nod
s in agreement.

“You don’t understand, Anna.”
Dean turns away and stares off into the darkness.

He’s right. I don’t understand, but if understanding his world is what I need to do in order for him to open up then I
’m ready to learn.

I get up from the milk crate
, which I’m pretty sure is imprinted into my skin. Marv silently excuses himself back into the doorway.

“Dean.
” I tap him on his shoulder and when he doesn’t turn towards me I walk in front of him. I take his hand in mine and run my thumb along the line of his palm. “Help me understand.” I look deep into his eyes so he can see how badly I want to let me in.

“I can’t depend on getting into the Y every night because it’s not going to happen. Last night was the first night I got in
…in a while. I can’t have anything holding me here in case I need to move for shelter. I can’t let Marv down.”

T
hat’s the real reason. Finally. “You won’t be letting him down. Besides, you already have something holding you here.”

He pushes my hair out of my face, resting his hand on my cheek.
“Really and what’s that?”

“Me.”

His lips capture mine in one quick motion. I allow the passion to take control as he deepens the kiss. But as quickly as it begins it’s over. I can feel his lips curve upwards as he slowly pulls away.