The Moon and More by Sarah Dessen Read Free Book Online Page B

else to replace him. He’s better than nothing.” A pause. “I think.”
    The weird thing was, he never did let him go. The excuses evolved: it was too much trouble to train someone new, another guy quit, and then the summer was practically over. But even after all the complaining, Morris was still doing odd jobs around the house after school and on weekends. Maybe my dad kept him around because he knew his backstory—no father in the picture, Mom less than invested, to say the least. Or perhaps he just had the same helping gene I did, even though we weren’t blood related. Whatever the reason, I didn’t question his tolerance of Morris, if only because of how much I hated it when anyone did the same to me.
    Now, I glanced over at him. He was putting forks in a basket, one at a time. “Morris. Please. Just dump the box in, okay?
    “Huh?”
    “Forget it.”
    I could see Luke now, pulling up with the ice. He parked, then got out of the car and went around to the trunk, laughing as someone called out to him. It’s funny how two people can grow up in the same town, go to the same school, have the same friends, and end up so totally different. Family, or lack of it, counts for more than you’d think.
    “You sure you’re okay?” Morris said, opening another box of forks. “You seem … weird.”
    I swallowed, glancing over at Robin, who was barking orders. “My father called today.”
    “Really.” I nodded. “What’d he want?”
    “Don’t know. Haven’t called him back.”
    He considered this, then said, “Maybe he has a graduation present for you.”
    I made a face. “Kind of late, don’t you think?”
    He shrugged. “Better late than never.”
    This, ladies and gentlemen, was basically Morris’s mantra. But that was the weird thing: I could handle
him
being slack because, well, it was just how he was. I expected more from everyone else. Especially my father.
    With the college issue finally settled, life had slowly gotten back to normal, as much as it could with the final days of high school winding down. Even though we’d left things awkwardly weeks earlier—to say the least—my father had been instrumental in my college process, and I’d always intended to invite him, Leah, and Benji to graduation. So in late May, I wrote their address on one of the thick, creamy envelopes and popped it with the others into the mailbox. He never responded. Whatever it was we’d shared all those months, clearly, it was over.
    Or so I’d thought.
Call when you get a chance
, the message had said. I could understand my mother’s first instinct, to toss it away. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I was just a fool. This was the girl I was, this was where I was from, and East U was where I was going. What could he possibly say that would change any of that now? Nothing.
    And yet, I hated to leave anything open and unfinished,so I wondered. All through dinner, as I sat with Luke’s arm loosely around my shoulders, trying not to track Morris’s work—or lack of it—from a distance. As it grew dark, and the tiki torches took on a mild, warm glow, bugs circling them. For the entire drive home that I knew by heart, four turns, two stop signs, one flashing yellow light. It was like a voice barely in earshot, whispering just loud enough to make you want to lean closer so you could make it out. When I finally got to my house, I cut the engine, then slid my feet out of my shoes. We were blocks from the beach, just like the office was, but no matter. The first thing I felt on my bare feet, like always, was sand.

    * * *
    The next day was Sunday, which meant another round of checkouts and arrivals. So much for a day of rest. For me, the last day of the week always meant follow-up duty.
    Colby Realty didn’t employ their own housekeeping staff. Instead, we subcontracted out to several cleaning companies, each of which handled certain houses each week. It was hard work, and you had to do it quickly: checkout was at