“Can we get ice cream?” she asks. “Ice cream sounds delicious,” I say. “It’s not even eleven.” Dallas turns his head to glance at me, and he looks younger than he has in the month I’ve been working for him. His smile is wider. His eyes are brighter. There’s a lightness to him, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “You’re not going to back me up on this, are you?” “You manhandled me to the floor. I’m siding with June on this one, dude.” “Fine.” He stands up and lifts June with him. When he’s on two feet, he offers me a hand, and I accept it, standing too. “Ice cream it is.”
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