A Prince Of A Guy

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IT TOOK Sean O’Mara a full five minutes to realize he was being taken advantage of, maybe six. His only defense was that he’d worked until past midnight and it was barely five in the morning, leaving him bleary-eyed and bewildered.

“You’re…what?” he asked again slowly, trying to make sense of the whirlwind that had barged into his house.

“I’m going to England for two weeks.” His sister deposited her four-year-old daughter, Melissa, on the floor of the foyer where Sean stood. The little girl immediately vanished into his kitchen. His sister vanished, too, only to return twice, each time with a huge load from her car.

Not a good sign. “England?” he asked, getting less groggy by the passing minute.

“Yep.” She said this as if it was only across the street from his Santa Barbara, California home, instead of across the globe.

“I can’t tell you how much your help means to me, Sean.” She staggered beneath an armful. “Melissa’ll be no trouble, I promise, and I’ll finish the design job ASAP.”

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