Page 74 of The Last Dance

‘OK. Give me an hour.’

‘You didn’t just get out of bed, did you?’

‘Of course not. You think I’m some kind of bum?’ I roll my eyes.

Thank God she can’t hear an eye roll. A tiny white lie about sleeping in won’t hurt her. It’s not like I’m gonna be making a habit out of it. I love my parents dearly but in their mind I’m still a teenager trying to find my way in a world they can’t control. You’d think at my age I wouldn’t still be having these conversations with my parents.

*

‘There she is!’ My dad greets me at the door, arms open and ready to hug away my problems. It used to work when I was five so why not give it a shot?

‘Hi,’ I say as he pulls me to him, squeezing me hard enough to make me laugh.

‘Lost your job, huh?’

‘Yup.’ I nod, following him into the house.

‘Well, kid, that’s life. One door closes and another is waiting ajar not far off. You gotta find that door.’

‘Right. That seems to be the hard part.’

That phrase gives you so much hope. When one door closes, another will open. What no one tells you is that the door you’re looking for isn’t even on the same street or block, heck, it’s not even in the same city. It’s a quest to find it and when you finally think you do, you’re not even sure if it’s meant for you.

‘Did you give her the check?’ my mom yells from the kitchen.

‘She just walked in!’ He waves her away with a laugh.

‘I don’t need money, guys. You taught me well, so I’ve been saving a little bit for years. I can’t say I’ll be living like I’m anything overly important, but I’m not gonna end up homeless or starving or anything.’

She sets a plate of sandwiches on the table. Grabbing the check and waving it in the air. ‘You will take this check and you will add it to whatever you’ve got.’ She shoves the piece of paper into my bag.

‘Fine… If I must.’ I roll my eyes with a smile. Like I’m really going to turn down free money. No matter what your age, when your parents insist on something, you normally do it. At least, I do.

My phone buzzes on the table in front of me.

Hey, babe. Just got your text. I’d do anything to make you happy.

Noah. I know that he would.

The flowers are gorgeous.

I send the text through, getting a reply almost immediately.

Flowers? I didn’t send flowers. I probably should have. LOL

He didn’t send them? If he didn’t send them then…no-o-o-o-o. Damn it, Henry. He’s the only other person on the planet who’s ever sent me flowers. Orange roses at that. How could I forget about that? Probably because forgetting things exactly like that is what I’ve focused on for the last two years.

On one of our many trips to the Rose Garden over the years, I showed him exactly which ones were my favorite, as I did every single time we walked past them.

*

‘Those are the ones.’ I stop in front of the rose bush. ‘“Mandarin Sunblaze.”’ I read the label out loud even though I’ve got it memorized. ‘They’re so gorgeous. Like this sunset, actually.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘I know this is probably the five-hundredth time you’ve told me but I gotta say, I never really saw you as a rose-loving kind of girl.’

‘Why not?’

‘I dunno. It’s too common. You’re not common.’

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