Page 23 of When in December

Hastily, I nodded. “Yes. Thanks. Need a minute.”

He looked bored and unconvinced. However, he turned back to his screen, letting his fingers jump over the keyboard.

Hannah watched me as she finished her conversation on her headset, though it didn’t sound like it was still the woman with her rubbery microwave turkey.

My phone pinged with a text.

Michelle: I got a message from the Hayes-Preston home.

Three dots came across my screen as she typed.

Michelle: She’s very impressed with your designs and with you for taking on the extra work she is asking in stride. Please let me know if you need any help at all or if there are any obstacles. We’re here to help however you may need.

Me: Thank you. I’m excited about the project already. I will let you know if anything comes up, but enjoy your holiday. I have everything in hand.

Michelle: I’m so excited to hear this for you, Poppy. I know you won’t let us down.

I reread the message. I wasn’t going to let Michelle or Sarah down. I wasn’t going to let myself down.

I was ready for this.

I took a deep breath before I realized Hannah was staring at me.

“What was that?” I asked.

Hannah cupped her hand over her microphone and turned back to me. “I’m just surprised you’re holding it together this well.”

Honestly, so was I.

six

. . .

Poppy

Day two.Day two was always better than day one.

Right? I was going to pretend that was a thing.

My phone chimed with my affirmation app. I peeked down to see it announce across the screen,I am exactly where I need to be.

I was. Even if that included my knuckles gripping the steering wheel just as hard as I had the last time I traveled up the highway. I focused on the road, trying not to zone out within the mental checklist I already had formed for the day.

The new renovation crew was set to be there by noon—with me present. The appliances would be coming in by the end of the week. Then, once I managed all of that, it would be my time to shine.

I balanced my phone between my shoulder and ear, listening to the static-filled ring.

A gruff voice answered. “What, Sarah?”

“Oh.” I was startled at his greeting. He certainly didn’t answer the phone with the usualhelloI had expected. “It’s not Sarah. I’m coming on-site and?—”

“Yes?”

I took a deep breath.

This was my job.My joy.

“Good morning, Mr. Hayes,” I restarted. “This is Poppy Owens from Home Haven. I wanted to let you know that I will be working at the house today soon and assure you that despite the lack of renovation in certain spaces of the house, everything is very much under control?—”

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