“Thank you, Mr. Machine,” she said quietly. But didn’t pull away. I heard the vague echo of a trip gong in the back of my head, the kind that indicated a boxing match could begin.

I stroked my thumb across her lip a third time.

It wasn’t necessary. Or needed.

It was the definition of indulgence.

I heard her breathing hitch. Saw the attraction I felt reflected on her face—her fluttering eyelashes, her throat working, the puff of air on my thumb as she finally exhaled. As I reluctantly let go, I dragged my fingers through her tresses.

“Got it,” I whispered.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking shy in a way I’d never seen before. “So I’ll, um…” She whirled around once. Twice. Touched her forehead with her hand. “I’ll work on getting people’s permission and see who’s interested. And I’ll try and get some interviews in before we start all the heavy trash lifting today.”

I nodded, unable to trust my voice.

She paused halfway through opening the front door. “You’re part of this story too, Dean.”

18. Dean

Eighteen

Dean

Tabitha fluttered between Eddie and Alice, positioning them on the bench in the lot. Behind her was a tripod and a fancy-looking digital camera. An orange microphone was secured on top. Seeing her with the tools of her trade reminded me of pulling on my boxing gloves, the way it boosted my confidence.

In the last hour, we’d made good headway on cleaning. And Tabitha had spoken to every person there, explaining the situation and getting permission. Everyone was on board, even if they were just in the background.

Eddie and Alice, however, had volunteered themselves to be interviewed. While Alice had rushed home to “put her face on,” Eddie wore his work jeans and had a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Now how many people do ya think will watch this?” he asked.

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. I’ve got over fifty thousand followers on Instagram, but I can’t really estimate how many will see it.”

Eddie seemed pleased with that answer. “A lot of people have told me I’m real fucking inspiring.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “Eddie taught me how to drive. He was definitely inspiring as a teacher.”

Tabitha brightened. “I didn’t know that.”

Eddie was chuckling. “Yeah, Dean was a good student. Midge and Maria were working those back-to-back shifts, remember? So I told them I’d do it. We used, what, Rowan’s big truck, yeah?”

I nodded. “You told me that in South Philly you were legally allowed to park on top of the sidewalk as long as you asked first.”

Tabitha shot me a bemused look.

“And, uh…” I cleared my throat. “The rules of the road were sorta, kinda—”

“Guidelines,” he said emphatically. “Tell me it ain’t true if you live in this city.”