Page 67 of Trial Run

Amy frowned. “And when were you going to tell me that?” She put a hand on her hip, exasperated. “Never mind. Look, when you get back from this delivery, come to my office. We’ll talk about this some more.”

“Okay.” Nell didn’t see the point in talking about it any more, but she agreed, to get Amy off her back.

“And there’s nothing else going on with you?” Amy squinted at her, examining her face.

Nell cut her gaze away. “No. Nothing else.”

Amy drew in a deep breath, as if reaching for patience. “All right. See you later, then.” She marched away, muttering to herself. “Stubborn, secretive …”

Well, so what if she was secretive. Not everything needed to be shared. Sharing too much of yourself was a recipe for problems.

When Nell arrived at the delivery address, the bride and groom were overjoyed with their floral arrangements. The bright happiness on their faces as they looked at one another made Nell’s chest ache. She was very careful with thefloral arrangements as she unloaded them. Some plants held particular importance.

When she got back to Tillie’s Flowers, she parked the van, hung up the keys, and went to the back to look for Amy. Thirty minutes later, she emerged from Amy’s office in a daze.

“Thank you, again,” she said from the doorway.

Amy nodded curtly. “Of course. You can shut that on your way out.”

Nell made it to her car, put the key in the ignition, but didn’t start it. She sat in the parking lot, staring out the windshield.

Amy had promoted her to assistant manager and given her a raise. Enough of a raise that she could afford not to work a third job. And she would have flexible hours, to accommodate taking one college class per semester at the university.

Amy had also called her friend at the nursery. He’d agreed to interview Nell for the job in six months, after she’d completed part of her coursework toward finishing her degree.

For once, something was going her way. After years of life beating her up, she’d finally had the courage to try for something more, and it had worked out. She would finish college. It might take longer than a year, but she had a plan. Goosebumps rose on her arms.

If only she could tell Mom about this. But there was no one to share her good news with. Ben had been the one to find the scholarship and send her the information. He’d been the one to encourage her, the one who’d believed she could do it. At every step of their relationship, he’d built her up. Until that last day.

He would want to know about this. He’d called her once last week, and she’d stared at the phone in her hand as it rang and went to voicemail. He hadn’t left a message.

She tossed her phone in the cupholder and started her car. The less she thought about Ben, the better she’d feel.

And one person would be happy to hear her news, even if he didn’t entirely understand what it meant. She headed out of the parking lot and drove to Marco’s school.

* * *

That night, she took Marco out to dinner to celebrate, a rare splurge. Their favorite restaurant was a local old-fashioned diner, where Marco always ordered the same thing—a cheeseburger and french fries. The waitress brought them a pack of crayons, and Marco colored his paper placemat while he waited for dinner.

“I don’t know why you’re excited to go back to school,” he said. “Grownups are lucky because they don’t have to go to school.”

“But college is different. Grownups get to learn about things they’re excited about. Imagine if you got to go to school and only learn about dinosaurs all day.”

Marco’s eyes lit up. “That would be cool.”

“I get to learn about plants in my classes. Plus, college isn’t all day. I’ll only go to class two days a week, and only for an hour or so. I still have to work.”

“And you’ll still pick me up from school, right?” He peeled the crayon wrapper back with his fingernail.

“Of course. I’ll still do all the normal things I do with you.”

Marco’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s okay, then.”

“And when I’m done with my college classes, I’ll be able to get a better job. One that will pay more money. I could quit working at the coffee shop, and then we’d have the whole weekend together.”

“Saturday and Sunday?”

“Yep.”

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