“I’m her friend,” Bean said, unperturbed.
“Hold on,” Lorna said, putting herself between Bean and Candy. Her anger was ratcheting, pushing against all the light-and-breezy feelings she’d been having lately.
“Why are you here, wasting my time?” Candy demanded of Lorna.
She’d forgotten that Candy was a bit of a ballbuster. “He’s right. I came to say I’m sorry.”
“Sorry! For breaking my father’s heart?”
“Yes. Exactly that.”
“You broke his heart?” Bean asked, sounding distressed.
Candy scoffed at that. “She stole from him, that’s what she did, and got arrested for it.”
Bean gasped.
“Okay, Candy,” Lorna said, a little breathlessly. “It was a long time ago. How long are you going to hold the grudge?”
“As long as I want,” she snapped. “My father loved you and you betrayed him, and he’s not here to tell you himself.”
“Well, I loved him too, and I didn’t betray him. I told you then and I’ll tell you now—I didn’t know my sister had stolen anything. I was devastated she had. Can you at least hear me out?”
“No,” Candy said. “Now get off my property.”
“But she hasn’t apologized yet,” Bean said, frantic.
“Please let me apologize,” Lorna added. “I’m sorry for what happened, Candy.”
Candy laughed. “Apology not accepted. What is the point after all this time? You should have come before Dad died. Go away and leave us alone, Lorna. If you don’t, I’m calling the cops again.” She turned on her wobbly heels and hobbled off. Only then did Lorna notice the sign: Cho Construction.
Lorna was dejected. She’d tried, and that was all she could do. But her effort didn’t feel right this time. It didn’t feel like enough. “Come on, Bean,” she said.
She and Bean were back in the car, and she was staring straight ahead, her mind whirling. The apologies felt so imperative now. How did she walk away from this? Damn it, she felt wetness on her cheeks. She hadn’t cried since float therapy.
“Did you really get arrested?” Bean asked in a whisper.
Bean.She had to pull herself together for his sake. She used the tips of her fingers to swipe the tears from her face. Therage—or sadness (which one was it? It was so hard to tell them apart now)—would consume her if she let it. “Yes.”
Bean reached into his backpack and pulled out a tissue. He twisted in his seat and pressed it into her hand. “Did you go toprison? Did you try and break out?”
“No and no. I had to pay a fine and do some community service. I had to help clean up some roadways for a while.” She looked out the window at Candy, who was back with two men in hard hats, one holding blueprints. “I don’t know what to do, Bean.”
“You apologized, though,” he said.
“But she didn’t accept it.”
“But she’s not Mr. Cho.”
“Mr. Cho is dead. How do I make amends if she won’t let me?”
“Maybe Mr. Cho’s ghost will let you,” Bean suggested. “Sometimes Dad tells me to think of what Mommy would say. What would Mr. Cho say?”
Lorna blinked. This kid, with his earnest little face, sitting here with his explorer hat crookedly perched on his head, was brilliant. “Are you sure you’re not some AI creation?”
“Huh?”
“Lemme think,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Mr. Cho was very giving. He would probably tell me I didn’t need to make amends, and then I would insist, and then he would say, ‘Well, if you feel you need to do something, you should do something kind for someone else.’” A thought clicked into place. “The soup kitchen!”
