Finding Home (12 page)

He didn’t let go of her hand all the way to the car, and she didn’t pull away.

ZY

On Sunday morning, Megan was clearing the plates after breakfast— insisting, for once, on doing the clean-up—when the doorbell rang.

“What the hell? What time is it?” she called out to Sean from the kitchen.

“I don’t know—11:30, I guess?”
“Who the hell comes round at this time of the day on the weekend?” Megan wondered aloud. Apart from her mother, or one of her siblings maybe, but they tended to warn in advance. Maybe it was just some Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses doing door-to-door evangelism.

She went to open the door, drying her hands on a dishcloth, only to be confronted with the grinning faces of her two best friends. James had one arm hidden behind his back and Sasha was trying not to laugh.

“Surprise!” they crowed in unison, and James thrust the bouquet of flowers he’d been concealing into Megan’s face. She smiled weakly.
Shit.
This was so not how she wanted to introduce Sean to her friends. Still, she couldn’t see any way of avoiding it now. At least time played on her side—after a week, the likelihood of him murdering her in her bed would have receded, even for her suspicious buddies.

“Thanks… Come in, guys.” She held the door open. “So what’s the occasion?”

“You’ve been out of contact for more than a week. I thought Sasha must have spoken to you, but then I find out she hasn’t heard from you in ages, so we figured it was time to come snooping.” James took off his leather jacket and hanging it on one of the hooks. He ran a hand through his spiked blond hair and smiled at Megan. “So, is it a new boyfriend?”

Megan shook her head. “No. It’s mainly work, really…”
“Mind if I get myself a glass of water?” Sasha asked, yawning. “I haven’t quite mastered this hangover and I am so damn thirsty. Oh, and Stevie sends his love but you know him, he has work to do, on a Sunday morning no less. I swear I’m an office widow.” She strode off toward the kitchen without waiting for Megan’s okay, and nearly ran into Sean, who’d been drying dishes at the sink, and who was coming out.

There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Oh, sorry, I…” Sasha trailed off, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t realize you had company, Megan, otherwise we wouldn’t have…”

“What, turned up on a Sunday morning? Like you weren’t trying to catch me at something?” Megan snorted.

James and Sasha exchanged a guilty look, which wasn’t lost on either Megan or Sean.

“Anyhow, I guess you struck paydirt. This is Sean. Sean, these are my very rude friends, Sasha and James, who make it a mission to try to run my life. Sean is a friend, who’s crashing here, on the living room couch, for a few days.”

“Really.” Sasha’s eyes widened. “Nice to meet you, Sean.”

Sean seemed nervous to Megan, but she didn’t think it would be obvious to either of the other two.

James narrowed his eyes at Sean then looked at Megan with an unspoken challenge. She could hear him in her head.
No boyfriend, huh?

The next few minutes were awkward. Sean was evidently ill at ease and busied himself in the kitchen making coffee. James and Sasha clearly burned with the desire to interrogate Megan, but did their best to restrain themselves and be polite. Megan desperately tried to figure out how much of the truth she was going to tell them. She went into the kitchen with a couple of stray cups as a pretext to talk to Sean.

“I’m sorry about them,” she whispered. “I really had no idea.”

He nodded, silent.
“Listen, they’re like, my two best friends.” There was no need for him to know James was occasionally more than a friend. “I’m going to have to tell them something about how we met. I can’t really lie to them. They know me too well.”

He looked at her through his lashes, and again Megan saw a vulnerable youth rather than the self-assured young man she’d grown used to. “It’s okay. They’re your friends. You tell them. I’ll go buy some milk.” He flashed her a small smile.

After Sean left the apartment, Megan took a deep breath and braced herself for the onslaught from her friends.

“Well, he’s tactful,” James remarked.
“Not to mention extremely hot!” Sasha exclaimed. “Megan, who is this guy? Where did you meet him? And, more importantly, are you having a fling?”

“No!” Megan exclaimed. “I told you, Sean’s crashing here while he gets something else figured out. I’m not… No. Absolutely not.”

“Whoa! Okay. Although I’d want to ask you why not, because, yum,” Sasha said, her green eyes twinkling.

“Sash, cut it out,” Megan snapped, sitting on the couch next to her. James looked thoughtful. He was always good at analyzing situations and reading the subtext in a conversation. She could virtually see the cogs whirring in his head. “So where exactly did you guys meet?” He stared at her suspiciously.

Megan blinked and looked away. “We met when I was doing some research for a piece…”

“I fucking knew it,” James shouted. “He’s one of those kids, isn’t he? You picked him up on Santa Monica Boulevard?”

Damn, he was quick! Megan bit her lip and nodded.

Sasha’s eyes opened wide. “One of the street kids? The hookers?” “How did you…?” Megan started.
“How did I guess? You look guilty as hell, you sure weren’t happy to see us turn up and you’ve been acting squirrelly for a while.” James paced up and down the room, scowling. “You’re fucking crazy, Meg. You brought back a whore to your apartment. Have you got any idea what kind of risk you’re putting yourself in?”

“James, stop it. He’s been here a whole week and the main change it’s made in my life is that the place is tidy. He cleans up after himself and me, he’s been cooking dinner and he’s been doing all the chores,” Megan snapped. She felt compelled to defend not just her decision, but Sean’s reputation, too. “Besides, if he was going to stab me in my sleep, I think he’d have already done it.”

“But…you invited a stranger into your home, Megan,” Sasha said. “He could beat you, rape you, steal your stuff. You have no idea.”

“I took a gamble, I know. But I—I got to know Sean over the past few months. It’s not like I picked him up blindly. He kind of looked out for me when I was researching that piece.”

Megan frowned at James as she went on. “That’s why I felt fairly safe hanging out there and why I didn’t call you up every night. He helped me out. A lot! We kind of became friends. When he was badly beaten up and his shit stolen, I offered him a place to stay.”

“So does he bring clients back to your apartment?” James asked blandly.

“Fuck you!” Megan shot back. “He’s stopped that. He’s trying to get his GED and get himself out of that shit, all right? He’s working his ass off and you have no right to talk about him like that.”

Anger surged through her. James objected because he was worried about her, but she also knew he had a tendency to be possessive toward her because of their on again, off again sexual relationship. He never really warmed to any new guy she brought into their group.

Megan paused to compose herself. “Listen guys, give him a chance. He’s a nice kid and he needs a break, that’s all.”

“When you say ‘kid’, Megan, do you mean he’s actually a kid?” Sasha said.

Megan closed her eyes and took another breath. Fuck coffee, she needed a real drink to continue this conversation.

“He’s nearly eighteen, okay? The system treats the kids like shit and for older kids, it’s a real mess. He’s… Look, can you just let it be? Accept it? He was in trouble and needed help. If I’d called Social Services, he just would have run away to find another place to work the streets. Now he’s looking at getting his diploma and a proper job and…please, guys?”

She stopped, overcome by emotion. They’d better listen to her, because otherwise she was going to have to ask them to leave. There was no point in arguing the issue and she didn’t want to risk Sean coming home in the middle of the scene.

“Couldn’t you be in trouble for harboring him here?” Sasha twisted a lock of her curly red hair around her fingers.

“It’s not like anyone’s looking for him. He slipped through the net a while ago, Sash. This is as stable as he’s known, God, I don’t even know for how long, but he’s had a hard life. And he really is a decent guy.”

“If he touches a hair on your head, I will kill him,” James said suddenly. And although he was smiling, Megan had no doubt he was, in fact, entirely serious. He’d always been protective of her, sometimes to an irritating extent.

She got up and walked over to him. “I promise he’s not a bad guy, James.” She put her hand on his arm. “Trust me. I’ve seen him interacting with kids, I’ve seen how he is with me. He’s a good person caught in a shitty life and trying to get out of it as best he can. I’m simply giving him a helping hand until he can manage on his own.” The fact she wanted to jump his bones was not their business, nor was the fact he was hetero and clearly attracted to her, too. Some things were best left unsaid.

James looked at her, then at Sasha and sighed. “Okay. I’ll be civilized to him. But he better not turn out to be a psychopath.”

Megan smiled and turned to Sasha, who rolled her eyes. “Yes, all right. I will say, he’s easy on the eyes. He doesn’t look like the hopped-up kids on meth I’ve seen around the city.”

“That’s because he’s not a drug addict. I am not that stupid, thank you very much.”

The atmosphere had eased back into something closer to their normal interaction by the time Sean returned carrying a gallon of milk. They all drank coffee and chatted about the unseasonably warm weather and last night’s TV. Sean was fairly silent but not completely withdrawn, and Megan was proud of him for mixing with her friends, knowing they knew about him.

Once Sasha and James left and they were putting things away in the kitchen, Sean turned to her. He was back to his usual cocky self, with a slight smile playing on his lips.

“So I bet you got told off for having me here, right?”
“A little.”

Sean laughed. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think your friend James likes me much. I think he’s into you.”

“No. It’s not like that with us. James is a friend like Sasha is a friend only with… I mean, yeah, occasionally we hook up, but it doesn’t mean anything.” Megan’s neck burned and wondered why she was telling him this. “It’s like a convenience, really.”

“Friends with benefits.” A smile still curved his mouth, but his eyes were unreadable.

“Anyway, as a friend, he’s simply being protective,” Megan said. “He’s right, you know. If I was him, I’d kick my ass out of your house, and I’d sure as hell tell you off for doing something as crazy as taking in some punk you don’t know.” Sean actually sounded serious.

Megan frowned.
“From where I’m standing, though, I just want to say thanks for giving me a shot.” He no longer looked cocky, just a little shy.

“You’re welcome.” A happy glow pervaded her. She’d done the right thing. She had no doubt about it.

Megan plodded to the bathroom, eyes barely open, feet following the familiar path in the near dark. She closed the door, pulled down her pajama bottoms and started to sit.

“Jesus Christ!” The toilet seat wasn’t where it was supposed to be. The backs of her thighs hit cold ceramic instead of plastic and she fought to keep her balance and avoid dunking her rear. “Fucking Sean!”

Her eyes flew open and she scrambled to her feet, still cursing, turned and put down the seat and sat. “Stupid asshole.” She rubbed the heels of her hands into her bleary eyes then stared at her nightlight, Mickey Mouse smiling and waving at her while she peed.

Living with someone, especially a male someone, after she’d lived alone for almost two years really sucked sometimes. With Sean taking over most of the household chores, she felt guilty complaining. Who wouldn’t want a guy around who was willing to clean your apartment and have a hot meal ready for you at the end of a long work day, even when you told him he could go ahead and order takeout? She kept telling him he didn’t have to do everything, but since she wouldn’t accept rent money from him, this was his way of compensating.

Still, sometimes she wanted to smack him and tell him to quit messing with her stuff. She’d forbade him to touch her desk no matter how badly the piles teetered. Of course her bedroom was still a joyously sloppy sanctuary.

The main drawback to living with another person was more intangible than toilet seats and neat versus sloppy. Megan had her own routine and her own little habits she couldn’t indulge anymore—running around in her underwear for one. She missed stupid things like singing loud and off-key along with the stereo, or sitting and clipping her toenails in the middle of the living room floor while watching the shopping channel, or belching or farting without embarrassment.

Sean was the perfect houseguest, but he was still a guest and she could never completely relax at home anymore.

“God, I’m such a selfish bitch,” she muttered, standing and flushing. Little moments crowded her mind, snapshots of Sean around her apartment—turning from the stove to answer a question, walking bare-chested from the bathroom, looking up from his textbook with a sweet smile of welcome, snapping a dishcloth at her ass and laughing, lying on the couch channel-surfing with her remote. It was nice having another person to live with, someone to talk over her day with and to sense another human presence in the apartment even when he wasn’t in the same room. It was comforting.

Sometimes it was just hard to remember that.

As the days went on, they settled into a routine. Sean would be up before Megan on the days they needed him on site, and making breakfast by the time she emerged and hit the bathroom. Other days, he steered clear of the bathroom and kitchen altogether and either slept or studied or read on the couch, anxious not to get in her way as she rushed to work in a perpetual flurry of last-minute panics.

She finished the rewrite on her article about the Hespera Street playground and turned it in to Rossi and the following week had her byline in the paper for the first time. When she held the actual paper in her hands and read her words in print, she had to go to the ladies’ room and cry in a bathroom stall until she pulled herself together enough to come out and accept congratulations from her co-workers. Even Bob managed a smile and a “congratulations” although she could tell from his eyes how sour he really felt about it.