Page 33 of Bottle Rocket
“We’d be so poor.”
A laugh burst out of her. “True.”
Rosie sat on the counter, choosing a spot where she could see Tyler and any approaching customers. The stand’s plywood walls and particle-board awning were no match for the late afternoon sun, and Rosie fanned herself with a ledger book.
Earlier, Tyler had bitched about the lack of support from administration in his special ed classroom. And she had bitched about the fact that she would have to purchase all the new puzzles, art supplies, and early reader books for her kindergarten classroom. Teacher stuff. It was a rocking good time.
As easy as it was to complain, she was thankful for her school. Until the previous school year, she’d been working in the same building as her ex-husbandandhis new wife. It had been untenable. The district had moved her, and she was content. She liked her job, her students, and her coworkers. Contentment was a fickle beast, though.
“What do you do for fun?” Rosie asked Tyler. He was goofily grinning at his phone. She could see he was on a dating app.
His head snapped up. “I’m sorry?”
“What do you do outside of work? What are your hobbies?”
He scratched his chin. “Besides trivia?”
She smiled. “Yes, besides that.”
“I’m in a Scrabble club.”
“Really?”
“I’m the youngest there. I’m not that skilled, but it’s fun to be around the other members. They try to set me up with their grandsons. One of these days, I’m gonna get a date out of the deal.”
Rosie’s mind snagged on something he’d said. It wasn’t the activity he enjoyed but the people. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been searching for hobbies, but maybe she should have been searching for community instead.
That felt a bit too daunting, to be honest. She hadn’t had a lot of consistency in her life. Her parents were flakes. Her ex-husband was a gaslighting cheater. Even Leo had left her. The only dependables in her life were Sasha and Benji.
She didn’t trust people. She needed to rely on herself. It was up to her to find security and happiness. She couldn’t put that on anyone else.
Rosie and Tyler spent the next few hours chatting about their coworkers, analyzing Tinder profiles for Tyler, and helping people spend obscene amounts of money on fireworks.
By nine thirty, their steady stream of customers had completely abated. June bugs and moths kept swooping in and knocking into the stand’s two indoor lights, both unadorned yellow bulbs.
Her phone lit up with Leo’s name.
“Oh. Who has your face all aglow like that?” Tyler asked.
“A friend. Or, I guess, an old boyfriend.”
Tyler propped his chin in his hands and grinned. “What did he say?”
She opened Leo’s message.
Leo:I’ve missed you today.
She hated the way that made her heart melt.
Rosie:You too.
Leo:I’m about to leave my parents’ house. Are you at the fireworks stand?
Rosie:Yes, until 10.
Leo:Where’s it at? I’ll stop by and say hi.
Leo’s parents lived in a fancy gated community a few minutes from Boone’s Nursery and Tree Farm, which was where the fireworks stand was parked for the week. Or, at least, that was where his parents used to live. She had no idea if they’d moved in the intervening years she’d been out of touch with Leo. That neighborhood had been full of old money and country club memberships. When they’d been teenagers, she would park her grandma’s Ford Tempo in the ditch by the gate and wait for Leo to sneak out to see her.
