He hung up, although he wasn’t sure if things were truly settled with them.
They had to find some sort of control with the guys, especially with this new situation. Perhaps because they’d resisted giving Sang any attention for so long, and now everyone knew the others were interested. Now everyone wanted time with her.
Only their time was now under the control of Carol and her whims.
It sucked, but for the moment, it was the only thing to do.
He found the suit and tie on the bed, the one his mother had left for him.
Gray suit. Red tie.
Be like Owen.
He rolled his eyes. He’d wear it out of the house, but he’d switch the tie out and wouldn’t wear the jacket.
Wasn’t being Sean Green good enough?
Dinner
––––––––
At six twenty-eight, Sean stood on the front porch of the Sorenson house. The wide concrete porch was lit by the yellow glow of an outdoor wall sconce to the right of the door. The bushes in the front had been cut back neatly. The only thing that had changed from the last time he’d been here was a new doormat, blue with snowflakes. There hadn’t been one before.
He cradled the roses in his arm. Owen had tied them neatly and wrapped them with red-and-white paper and a twine bow. Simple paper, so as not to distract from the flowers.
Would roses be a little forward? Should he have gone for something like carnations? He disliked the thought of using Owen’s roses, but he hated to waste them.
While he’d hoped to impress Carol, was impressing on her that he was very eager to date Sang going to be a problem?
Sean pushed the doorbell. The chimes sounded.
His fingers tingled.
He held his breath, anxious.
A moment later, the door opened.
Carol stood in a pair of dark slacks and a maroon top, billowy around her body. A smile plastered her face. Not totally sincere, almost too fake.
Was there tension in the house? He hadn’t checked in with anyone about what was going on inside. He anticipated someone would have sent him a text if there was a problem.
“Welcome, Sean,” she said and stood back, leaving him room to enter.
He wiped his feet a little on the mat and stepped inside. The foyer was bright, with lights on over the stairwell in front of him, above his head, and a lamp had been placed on a side table. It made the white walls shine.
The effect was like he was under a spotlight. It was a little too much, as if to make the small space appear cleaner.
Carol instantly noted the bouquet. Her hands went to her cheeks, and her mouth made an O shape. “Those are lovely,” she said.
He presented the roses to her. “Thank you for inviting me.”
She received them into her arms and then nodded toward the living room. “Would you please come and sit with us?”
Immediately to the right, the living room was overcrowded with furniture. A couple of chairs from the dining table had been added, sitting across from the couch with a coffee table between them.
In one of the dining chairs sat Mr. Sorenson. He wore dark slacks and a white collared shirt a little too big for his frame. His graying dark hair appeared wet and combed down.
Sean combed his own sandy-blond hair over his forehead nervously. He’d tried to get it to behave so he appeared a little different, hopefully a little closer to Sang’s age. He nodded to him. “Hello.” Would he possibly recognize him?
Sean had carried his wife out of the house on a stretcher. But his appearance might not have been noticed that day. There was a lot going on.
Mr. Sorenson nodded and partially stood up, offering a hand. “Welcome,” he said. “I’m Mr. Sorenson.”
I know exactly who you are. Sean forced a smile and did his best not to recoil from shaking his hand. He let go quickly. “Pleased to meet you. Sean Green.” He hadn’t planned on having to exchange pleasantries without Sang being in the room.
Where was she?
Mr. Sorenson motioned to the couch. “I hear you’re going to become a doctor.”
The couch had faded flowers and appeared to have been in the family longer than Sang had been around. He’d seen it a few times in the house before. When he’d sat on it, the cushions had sunk into the wood shortly. It was as if he was sitting on wood by itself.
“I hope so,” Sean said. “I’ve already taken a number of prerequisites, and tested out of a few classes to get ahead.”
“It’s a good choice,” he said. “I went into engineering. Electrical.”
Sean feigned being impressed, widening his eyes just a little. Not that engineering wasn’t a good career, but he couldn’t get himself to be interested in him. “Yes, I believe Sang mentioned it.”
At the mention of his daughter’s name, he seemed to go a shade paler, but recovered quickly.
He did know Sean was there because he knew Sang, right? Had Carol said? Or was just the thought of her something that scared him?
Carol returned, presenting a green vase with the roses put into water. She placed this on the coffee table and then sat on the couch a foot away from Sean. “I was telling my son, Jimmy, that when he goes to school here, he’ll have to ask you about any programs you used for accelerating your career.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Does he want to be a doctor?”
“I want him to have every available opportunity,” she said with a broad smile. “The world needs doctors.”
Uh-huh. Maybe their interference would work out for Jimmy. The Academy could help him get into authentic accelerated programs and let him choose whatever career he wished. If he was at all bright, it would only cost them a couple of favors to get him on his way.
“I’m not sure if you’ve heard about Ashley Waters,” Sean said, spacing each word out slowly to add a little emphasis. He shifted on the couch, leaning his elbows on his legs. “My program wasn’t really a part of the school. It was an extension from a private school.”
Her eyes lit up. “They do that?”
“I don’t recommend it,” Sean said. “I wish I’d gone to the private school instead. If so, I would have been in college a year earlier.” The words rolled off his tongue, an echo of a bit about his past, mixed in with the experience at the public school. “Ashley Waters doesn’t have a great selection of classes. No budget.”
“Yes, typical of public schools these days,” Carol said with a sigh. She touched the puffs of hair around her face. “I was worried about sending my youngest son there. Is it at least decent enough that he could apply for these accelerated classes there?”
It was hard not to smile. She might be easier to convince than anyone thought. “Maybe in the past,” he said. “It’s going through a few changes, and administration is fluctuating. The students are out of control. Fights in the hallways. There were a number of bomb threats last November. It seemed like every day for a while. I think I missed a whole week of morning classes.”
Carol’s lips wrinkled, displeased. “I see.”
“It was all over the news.” He glanced at Mr. Sorenson, but he only nodded along with a curious look on his face.