Page 6 of Trial Run

He sighed dramatically. “You packed three juice boxes and two water bottles.”

Settling into the nest of blankets and pillows she’d set up for him around his booster seat, he buckled the seatbelt and picked up his tablet again. Flower arrangements surrounded him in the crowded space in the back of the van, making him look like a woodland creature or a cherub.

“Should we listen to more music while we drive?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m going to watch another show.” He slid on his headphones and sank down lower into the seat.

Nell put the van in reverse and programmed her maps app to go to the next delivery address on her list. Looking at the map now, it was easy to see where she’d mistaken Ben’s house for a neighbor’s and knocked on the wrong door. Running on no sleep and horrible news was a bad combination. Though she made plenty of mistakes on normal days, too.

She made the next delivery with no issues. Well, other than running over the curb with the edge of her tire while backing out of the woman’s driveway. At the bump, Marco looked up from his tablet and rolled his eyes, used to this part of driving with her.

“Sorry!” she called over her shoulder. “Just a bit too far left.”

They passed the upscale coffee shop where Nell worked on the weekends, and she swung through the drive through. Theperks of working here included four free drinks a week, and today was a day for the frothiest, most sugary coffee drink possible.

After her co-worker handed her the triple shot vanilla latte with extra whipped cream through the little window, some of her sense of well-being returned. With enough caffeine, she could make this work.

She took a long sip and hit the gas.

“Surviving and thriving,” she whispered, repeating the catchphrase from the financial well-being podcast she’d been listening to. So the advice on hoarding paychecks and cutting corners hadn’t helped much so far. This coffee was free, so it wouldn’t deplete her budget.

She glanced back in the rearview mirror, checking on Marco, who’d checked out watching one of his documentaries. This wasn’t how she’d wanted their life to turn out. Struggling to make ends meet. Never slowing down, and never, ever feeling secure enough to think beyond next month.

But you took what life gave you and made the best of it. Even if sometimes, a tiny part of you wished life would give you a freaking break for once. But breaks were rare, and mostly, people let you down, and all you could count on was yourself. Which was great, because she was enough, all on her own.

This evening, she’d start looking at listings for a third part-time job, maybe something online with flexible hours to fit in around everything else.

As for the rent-plus-late-fee, she’d swallow her pride, put on her biggest smile, and ask Amy if she could have her next paycheck early. Her rule-loving boss couldn’t find out about Marco tagging along today, though, for the plan to have any chance of working. Maybe she’d pick up a couple extra shifts at the coffee shop, too. Some of her regulars dropped twenties in the tip jar on occasion.

If all else failed, she’d apply for a loan at the sketchy paycheck loan shop downtown, the one with the sky-high interest rates. With her poor credit, a bank would never offer her money.

She turned on her favorite internet radio station, keeping the volume low so it wouldn’t interfere with Marco’s show, and navigated the afternoon traffic to her next delivery. She’d get the right address. She’d do all the rest of the deliveries seamlessly, make it back to the shop early, and pick up the replacement flowers.

She’d hide Marco in the back of the van, go inside and talk to Amy, and everything would work out fine.

It would be fine, because it had to be. There was no other option.

* * *

She did not get back early to Tillie’s Flowers. Downtown traffic snarls delayed her by over an hour. Sweat stuck to her back as the late afternoon sun poured into the side window of the van.

The shop wasn’t much to look at from the outside, just a corner spot in a strip mall. But inside, a riot of flowers and greenery greeted her every morning. Those were the times she loved her job, assembling the day’s deliveries of colorful bouquets and potted greenery, inhaling the familiar damp petal smell of the shop.

She threw the van into park and checked the back seat. Marco was asleep, head against the window, his face flushed. Nell put the van into park and dug around in her bag for his medicine. She popped two of the chewable tablets into her palm and climbed into the back seat again.

“Marco.” She brushed a hand over his burning forehead. “Little bird. We need to give you more medicine.”

“Don’t want to.” He pushed her hand away and curled up on his side, leaning against the door. He wrapped his skinny arms around his middle.

“Sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do.” Understatement of the year. She scooped a hand behind his neck and pulled him up to a sitting position.

“I d-don’t feel good,” he groaned.

“I know you don’t. This will help.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he opened his mouth and chewed the tablets she put in it. “Now drink water, so you stay hydrated.”

She was holding the bottle up to his lips when a shadow crossed the window of the van. Nell almost groaned out loud at Amy’s bad timing. Her boss frowned at her through the glass, her freckled face red with annoyance and her cropped ginger hair glowing orange in the late afternoon light.

Nell set Marco’s head down on the blanket, and he curled up, immediately asleep again in the booster seat. She opened the back door and climbed over his sleeping form, shutting the door softly behind her.

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