Maybe This Time(10)

“Of course. I just need to get all these tablecloths and load them into the van, and then we can go,” I said.

“Can I help?” he asked.

I nodded. “There should be a box of black trash bags by the door. Will you grab a bag for me?”

“Okay!” He ran over to the box and yanked on a bag, unraveling at least three before he freed one.

“Thanks,” I said when he brought it back.

“Can I put the tablecloths in the bag?”

“Sure, that would be helpful. Only take the ones that have already been cleared off.”

He nodded.

“Sophie!” Micah called out. “It’s our song!”

I listened for a moment—she said this about a lot of songs and we didn’t actually have a song. “Our favorite,” I replied.

Lance, her coworker, sang the wrong lyrics and Micah laughed. When I walked past her to pick up a discarded tulip, she whispered, “Where did Kyle run off to anyway? Did he already leave?”

“Yep.”

As if she knew exactly what I was thinking, which she probably did, she said, “I’m sure you didn’t say goodbye to him either.”

I crinkled my nose at her and she smirked.

My brother had filled the big black trash bag with tablecloths and was carrying it in his arms and walking precariously toward another table.

“Gunnar, that’s enough for that bag, start a new one.” I went to grab one for him, but when I turned around I was too late. Gunnar and his bag of tablecloths went toppling.

“I’m sorry, Sophie!” Gunnar said.

“It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I dropped all the tablecloths.”

“Good thing they aren’t made of glass,” I said. “Let’s just pick them back up.” We loaded the bag back up, and I went to take it to the van when I saw Caroline standing in the doorway.

“Sophie, is that your brother?” she asked, nodding toward where Gunnar stood, talking to Micah and Lance.

“Yes.”

“Has he been here all night?”

“No, he came toward the end. My mom had a childcare mix-up.” And by mix-up, I meant she hadn’t planned childcare at all.

“He can’t actually do any of the work. If he got hurt …”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I turned to look back at Gunnar and Caroline added, “And Sophie, don’t bring him to work again.”

My stomach tightened. “No, it won’t happen again.” I wanted to have confidence in that assertion but I knew I wasn’t the one who had any control over that.

“Thank you. And good work tonight. I’ll see you at the shop this week.” She smiled and left to go to her car. Caroline never did any of the cleanup. That’s what I was there for.

I hefted the overfilled trash bag into my arms and headed for the van, grumbling internally about how much design work I could’ve been doing if I worked at Minnie’s Alterations instead of at a flower shop. As I passed the lobby, I heard June talking to someone. I stopped, shifting the weight of the bag to my hip.

“June, thanks again for your help with my brother tonight.” As I fully adjusted the bag, I noticed the person talking to June was Andrew. He sat in a chair with an open laptop and June was looking over his shoulder at whatever he had pulled up there.

June glanced at me. “No problem, hon. You tell your momma I said hi, okay?”

“I will.” I paused, almost expecting Andrew to say something snarky, but he didn’t say anything at all. “Okay, well … I better …” I nodded toward the bag.

June hit Andrew on the shoulder. “Go help the young lady with that bag.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” I said. “I have it.”

“She has it,” Andrew said.

June hit his shoulder again and he reluctantly rose, putting his laptop aside. I started walking, bag and all.

“It’s fine,” I said when he was at my side, reaching out for the bag. “I’m nearly there.”

“I’m here. Give me the bag.”

“Wow. Your words inspire immediate obedience.” I kept walking.

“Should I get the door or do you have that too?”

I turned my back to the door and pushed it open with my butt. “It’s like I did things by myself before you arrived.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Yes, you’re proving you’re much more capable than you look.”

I smiled a fake smile at him. “Can’t wait until this year is over.”

“And you read minds too,” he said, then backed away.

I continued grumbling as I opened the van and deposited my armload in the back.

The clicking of bicycle spokes sounded next to me, and I looked over to see Kyle on Gunnar’s bike, his knees up at his elbows. He rode in slow circles.

“Hi,” I said, surprised. “I thought you left.”

“I didn’t.”

“That bike is the perfect size for you.”

“I thought so.” He stopped beside me, the back tire skidding, then put his feet on the ground. “It’s almost as nice as my other ride.”

I tapped a finger to my lips. “Your other ride?”