Free Unexpected by Faith Sullivan Page A

Michelle. Maybe you’ll make a man out of him yet.” I take in her words while staring at my reflection in the mirror as strains of Avril Lavigne’s ‘Complicated’ filter into the dressing room.
    Yeah, maybe…if he doesn’t break my heart first.

Chapter Twenty-Three
    My mind is frazzled after a hectic Friday night. It’s the kickoff to the Memorial Day weekend, and apparently the local crowd isn’t fleeing the city to celebrate. They’re staying right here at Donnelly’s Pub. Massaging the crick in my neck, I squeeze the water out of a sudsy rag in the sink behind the bar. It’s time to start wiping down my tables. There are only a few stragglers left, including Miguel.
    My apron is heavy with the tips I raked in tonight. It makes me feel good that I’m able to start paying my parents back for all the money they lost when I dropped out of school—the first semester’s tuition, two months of rent on the apartment, and the moving expenses. Needless to say, it’s going to take a while to fully recoup their wasted investment.
    It’s hard to believe that I haven’t been home in two months. Connor didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be running home until I got settled. But now that spring’s turned to summer, maybe it’s time. Whenever I call Mom and Dad, they keep saying how much they want to see me. And Tony’s home from school, so it’d be nice to catch up with him. He might have learned more about Connor from Sal before their semester ended. It’s worth a shot.
    “Hey, Michelle, are you busy?” It’s Miguel waving me over.
    “Nah. What’s up?” I give the room a quick once-over in case anybody needs anything. They’re all nursing their drinks, in no hurry to leave.
    Connor has his elbows propped behind him on the bar shooting the breeze with one of the regulars. He wants his patrons to feel at home, so he doesn’t mind if I take a few minutes to chat with the customers—as long as I don’t keep anybody waiting, of course.
    “I overheard Connor saying you went down to Ground Zero by yourself.” Talk about getting right to the heart of the matter. Miguel isn’t one for subtlety. I’m not sure how to approach this subject with him.
    “Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going. I didn’t want to bother you at work.” But Miguel sees right through my flimsy excuse.
    “I do get breaks, you know. You could’ve called me on my cell. I could’ve met up with you.” He reaches out and pats my arm. “It’s hard going there, especially alone. I would’ve had your back.”
    Something about his utter sincerity heals part of the lesion crisscrossing my heart. For a man who stares death in the face every day, his words make me embarrassed of the way I reacted.
    “I know. It was stupid on my part. I’m afraid I didn’t handle it well, either.” I press my hand to my forehead.
    “What happened?” His brow furrows.
    “The short version?” He nods. “I basically flipped out and then couldn’t find my way back. After wandering around aimlessly, I somehow stumbled across the bar. Connor’s dad was out front, and I lost it in front of him. He calmed me down, and then he told me about Danny.”
    “Yeah, we were all worried when Connor closed the place after Danny died.” Miguel tilts his head, giving Connor a sideways glance. “How’s he doing?”
    Making sure that Connor was still engrossed in his conversation, I decide to tell Miguel the truth. “Not good.”
    Nodding like he anticipated my answer, he rummages through the pocket of his jeans, removing a business card. “I approached Connor about attending this support group, but he turned me down flat. Didn’t want to talk about it. Acting like he isn’t going through hell when it’s blatantly obvious to everyone around him that he is. He needs to talk to other people dealing with the same type of pain. Michelle, you have to get him to go.”
    Exhaling deeply, I start to protest. “But Miguel, I’ve tried. He just