Page 42 of Flock
“That’s not your job.”
“I know.”
He gently nudges me. “Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?”
“No.”
He doesn’t offer me anything more. He just sits there with me, letting me grieve, his touch reassuring as he squeezes my hand.
“So, besides your parents, who is your hero?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.
“If I had to name one: Dave Chappelle.”
I rack my brain. “The comedian?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s fucking brilliant and real. He uses his platform in an incredible way, and his genius shines through. He says the shit many are too afraid to say and then tosses in some insight here and there that will stun you, make you think. He walked away from fifty million dollars, refusing to sell his soul in a way so many others would.”
“That’s so far from any answer I thought you would give.”
“Yeah, well, he’s flawed too, and he makes no apologies about it. I don’t agree with everything he says, but I respect him”
My phone buzzes with an incoming message from Christy and Sean nods toward it. “Look up some of his stand-up on your little computer when you get home.”
“Maybe I will.”
“But do yourself a favor—never research your heroes.”
“Why?”
He tips his beer. “Because you’ll find out they’re human.”
He takes my phone away when I lift it to check the message.
“New rule. No phones with me.”
“What?” I jerk my head back. “Not ever?”
“Never. Not in my car, not in my house, not in the garage. When you’re with me, you leave your phone at home.”
“You’re serious?”
“It’s all I ask. But I am seriously asking you for this.” His tone is severe, leaving little room for negotiation.
“Why?”
“A few reasons—one of them being this is my time. I’m choosing to spend it with you, and I want the same from you.”
“It sounds controlling to me.”
He leans in. “Hand to the Messiah, I promise you, baby, the last thing I want to do is control you.”
“Then what’s with the rule?”
“If I asked you to please trust me enough and that an explanation will come later, would you?”
