Neighbor Dearest by Penelope Ward

with the hugest smile, as if I were laughing hysterically, unable to get enough of the big goofy animals.
    He changed the story.
    I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, and now I was wearing a similar smile that matched the one in the painting.
    The kids were flocking to Damien for the better part of an hour after the presentation ended, asking more questions and trying their hands at spraying on some blank canvases that he’d brought. Damien had invited them all to the building to look at his mural in progress whenever they wanted. I never dreamt that his filling in at the last minute would leave such an impression on them, but his words were truly inspirational.
    When the crowd had dissipated, Damien was packing up his things when I approached him.
    “That was amazing.”
    “It was nothing.”
    “No. It wasn’t nothing.” I touched his shoulder as he glanced briefly down at my hand on his arm. I looked him in the eyes. “You’re amazing.”
    I didn’t know why I was feeling so emotional in that moment. He’d just awakened a part of me that realized it was craving so much more out of life.
    “It was one of the best presentations we’ve ever had. Seriously, I owe you dinner tonight.”
    His mouth curved into a smile. “You’re gonna burn me dinner?”
    “Hell, no. I’m gonna buy it, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Do you have plans tonight?”
    His eyes momentarily closed. “Actually, I do. I’m sorry.”
    Trying not to let my disappointment show, I nodded. “Oh. Maybe tomorrow.” Quickly realizing that tomorrow was Friday night, I said, “Oh, shit. I just remembered. I have a date.”
    “Really…”
    “You sound surprised. You’re the one who set me up on that website.”
    “I’m actually not surprised at all, Chelsea. Where are you meeting him?”
    “The Starbucks on Powell. Same place that Damien guy stood me up.”
    “Good ol’ Damien.” He grinned. “Are you headed back home now? You want a ride?”
    “Sure. I usually walk. But today was exhausting.”
    Damien opened the passenger side door to his black pickup truck and let me in before he packed his supplies into the back. The car smelled like his cologne mixed with air freshener. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in. I looked at the backseat and smiled at the towel he’d put down for the dogs.
    The ride to our building took all of three minutes. Damien pulled the truck into the special spot reserved for him. Once he put it in park, he didn’t move.
    It was quiet for several seconds before I asked, “You mentioned your father passed away. What happened to him?”
    “He died of a heart attack when I was thirteen. He was only thirty-five.”
    “Wow. I’m so sorry.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Where does your family live?”
    “I grew up in San Jose. My mother still lives there. I have one brother, two years younger than me. He lives in San Francisco, a couple miles from here.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Tyler.”
    “That’s a nice name. Your mom has good taste…Damien and Tyler. What nationality are you?”
    “My mother is half Greek, half Italian. My father was Irish.”
    “Thus, Hennessey.”
    “Yup.” He smiled.
    “Your father…dying so young. I would imagine that’s had a big impact on your decisions in life.”
    “You mean why I’m living like a retiree at almost twenty-seven?”
    “Kind of, yeah. I mean, that’s not to say you didn’t earn it.”
    “You’re not off base. My father’s death definitely motivated me a lot. He was a workhorse, never got to enjoy his life, never had the financial means to. He just lived the daily grind, and then he died. So yes, because of that, I want to enjoy my life unapologetically, and I don’t take anything for granted.”
    We sat in his car for over an hour talking about anything and everything. He’d asked me about my family and how I came to work at the youth center. He also talked about the four years he lived in Massachusetts before moving back to work in the