Page 45 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

Her accent makes everything she says sound slightly more delightful, and I contemplate asking if I can mimic her just for practice.

I don’t, of course, because I’ve already got my North Carolina accent down. If she were Scottish, well, that would be another story.

As we walk outside, Daisy closes the door behind her, and my phone dings with a text message. I glance down and see a photo of my parents in a boat with a glacier behind them. Mom’s text reads:

We are having so much fun! And we want to get tickets to come see your show in Door County. It’ll be like two vacations in one summer! Can’t wait! Send me the info! Make sure to send your friends the details too! You’re safe and sound, right? You never let me know if you made it.

That’s Mom. Well-wishes with a side of guilt.

I text back a quick:I’m good! Will update soon.Then, after apause, I add:And I’m taking your exclamation point privileges away!and tuck my phone away.

We slide into Daisy’s golf cart, and she backs away from the house, driving twice as fast as Booker did around the sidewalk circle. I brace myself by jamming my foot against the floor and grabbing the overhead handle.

I reach down to buckle a seat belt, but there isn’t one. If we have to go around a curve, I’m going to fly out of here.

Daisy waves to every single person we see, yelling at them by name or shouting a general, “Hey, y’all!” Like Booker, she narrates the drive, only Daisy doesn’t slow down to let me get a good look, and everything whizzes by in a blur.

We drive through the neighborhood adjacent to the staff’s pocket neighborhood, and as we round the corner to the main part of the campus, I notice a girl sitting on a bench in a small grassy area off to one side. She glances up and makes eye contact with me, holding it until we pass. Her expression is blank.

“Who’s that?” I ask, doing my best to convey who I’m talking about without letting go to point.

Daisy waves, but the girl doesn’t wave back. Daisy seems unfazed.

“That’s Dylan,” she says. “She moved in with her grandma a few months ago. She’s quiet and I think a little miserable. I’ve tried to talk to her, but she hates it here. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Ooh. A story. I want to find out what it is.

Which makes no sense because at this meeting I’m about to have, I may have to tell Connie that I can’t stay. I may not have any option but to move home and regroup.

I’m not qualified to do this job.

And that thought is twisting me up inside.

Daisy brings her cart to a screeching halt in front of the clubhouse. Still holding on for dear life, I look down to see that she actually left skid marks on the road.

“I didn’t know golf carts could go that fast,” I say.

“Oh, sorry.” She half smiles, half winces in my direction. “Everyone’s so slow around here, and I never have anyone in my cart, so sometimes I just forget!” She bounces out of the golf cart, and I meet her on the sidewalk. “So I work in here—not too shabby—and it’s only one floor away from Booker.”

I make a face. “You have a thing for Booker?”

“Honey,everyonehas a thing for Booker.” She laughs. “But, truth be told, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you.”

I give her awhateverlook, hoping it’s enough to convince her I haven’t been thinking of him nonstop since I got here.

She moves around in front of me and puts a hand on my shoulder, waiting for my full attention. “I can read people,” she says matter-of-factly. “And I know Booker. That man is smitten.”

My ears perk up.

“He’s thenicestguy,” she says. “It’s not an act. He is genuinely so kind.”

Yeah. I had a feeling.

“If Booker asks you a question, it’s because he wants to know the answer. If he says he’ll be there to help you with something, he will always show up.” She shifts. “And also—he actuallylikesit here. Came for his grandma out of some sense of duty or something. And I honestly don’t think he’ll ever leave.”

Noted. No plans to fall head-over-anything.

“Plus, everyone’s always setting him up with their daughter or granddaughter or niece or friend or whoever because he’s just so good. He’s just a really good guy.” She pauses. “But it never works out.”

---