Maybe This Time(9)

I cursed my inability to control my tongue. I had let this Andrew person bring out my worst … again. I had known him for barely three hours, and I had lost my cool three times. My way to Jett Hart was definitely not going to be through his son. I shook out my hands and took a deep breath. I was a professional. At work. And despite Andrew’s comments, I was good at what I did and I would make sure it showed.

“Sophie!” I heard from across the room, so loud that I was positive everyone had heard it.

I looked over to see my little brother standing next to the double doors, holding on to the handlebars of his bicycle.

Oh no. I rushed across the cafeteria, avoiding stares. I was sure Kyle was watching. My brother was not redeeming himself with this performance.

“Gunnar,” I whispered, taking the handlebars of his bike and directing it out of the room and toward the exit. “What are you doing here?” I pushed through the heavy glass door and leaned his bike against the outside of the building.

“Mom said she had to work a double shift, and Taryn had to go to work, so she told me to come here.”

“Taryn told you to come here?” Taryn was our neighbor and sometimes babysat my brother.

“No, Mom told me to come here.”

“Mom told you?” That was worse. I was at work, which my mom always thought of as a fun side hobby and not something real.

“She said maybe I could sit with Mr. Fenell or Ms. Pinkston.”

Of course she did. “Come on, maybe you can draw in the lobby or something.” I opened the door.

“Can I play on your phone?”

“Once we get home. I need my phone.”

His lower lip jutted out.

“I know, totally unfair,” I said. I tried to remember this wasn’t his fault and put my arm around his shoulder. He was getting tall. He was only ten, but I was sure by the time he was fourteen, he’d outgrow my five-five frame.

The receptionist in the lobby smiled at us when we walked inside.

“June, do you think my brother could sit in here until the event is over?” I asked hopefully.

June wanted to say no, I could see it on her face, but her Southern hospitality wouldn’t let her. “Sure thing, Sophie.”

I turned to my brother. “Gunnar, be good,” I told him in my most serious tone.

“I’ll put on a show for him,” June said, turning on the ancient television in the corner.

“Thank you so much. I’ll stop in to check on him, and if he is any problem whatsoever please come tell me.”

“I will.”

I felt so stupid asking her to watch my brother for me, as if it were her responsibility.

As I walked back toward the event, I pulled out my phone to text my mom, but my phone buzzed in my hands before I could. It was Caroline.

Are the favors ready?

Almost, I responded, and ran to the kitchen. Caroline might’ve thought assembling a hundred bags was a thirty-minute job, but it really wasn’t, and I still had to cut, tie, and curl all the ribbon. This was something she should’ve given to me a week ago.

Micah must’ve seen the panic in my eyes because she immediately stopped loading cups in a tray and said, “I’ll help.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. I knew she was methodical in her cleanup routine.

“Yes, and tell Caroline she doesn’t understand this thing we call time. She keeps doing this to you.”

We retrieved the boxes from against the wall. “I shouldn’t have eaten dessert with my date.”

Micah’s eyes widened. “With Kyle?”

I shook my head, feeling flustered. “No! With Mr. Farnsworth.”

Now Micah frowned. “Mr. Farnsworth was your date?”

“It’s a long story.”

She laughed and gave my shoulder a shove. “Come on, let’s take these to the lobby.”

“Good idea. My brother can help us.”

“Your brother is here?”

I sighed. “Another long story.”

“I get it,” Micah said. “Your mother. Another person who doesn’t understand other people’s time.”

There were a lot of things my mother didn’t understand—pretty much anything that happened outside of herself.





Micah and I finished all the gift bags just in time to send them off with the happy guests as they returned to their rooms. A lot of them took the tulip centerpieces too, still loudly admiring the pretty cellophane.

Slowly, the visiting friends and family departed—Kyle among them. He waved to me as he walked outside, but he didn’t say anything. I wondered if there really would be a second date.

In any case, I had more work to focus on. Back in the cafeteria, I turned the music to something livelier and spun around a few times as Micah cleared small cups off the tables.

Caroline was busy in the office talking to the director of the home, getting her final payment and probably already selling next year’s event.

Gunnar bounced around next to me as I loaded the few remaining vases into a box. “Can we go home yet?” he asked. “How are we going to get my bike home? Will it fit in your trunk?”

“I’m driving the flower van.”

“Oh, good! It will fit in the van. I like the van; it’s fun. I didn’t eat dinner tonight. Can we get food on the way home?”