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We all know he’ll be in no condition to drive later.
‘I could drop them over to you after work,’ I offer.
Maggie’s face fills with pride. ‘Isn’t she great? If she keeps this up, she’s going to make employee of the month fifth month running.’ She laughs at her own joke as she heads back to the counter. ‘Happy to fix it up now?’
Kevin glances at me as he follows after her. ‘Sure you don’t mind?’
‘It’s fine, really.’ Better that than him driving around drunk.
‘You heard from that boy of yours?’ Maggie asks as she presses buttons on the till.
I still, listening for his response.
There’s a bit of a pause before Kevin replies. ‘He’s busy seeing a bit more of the world.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be back when he runs out of money. That’s how these things usually play out.’
Kevin knows as well as I do that Hunter would sleep on the street before ever returning for financial reasons.
‘How long’s it been?’ Maggie asks.
I look in their direction and watch Kevin count out cash.
‘Six months.’
I guess neither of us has heard from him. It’s tragic that I’m still starving for any crumb of information about him. At some point I’m going to need to stop caring.
Kevin thanks Maggie and gives me a small wave.
‘Dear me,’ Maggie says after he’s left. ‘He’s not in a good way.’ She smells the air. ‘Might need to get the spray.’
An hour later, I call her over to the window to have a look at the display. She insists on viewing it from the street, even going so far as to shield her eyes so she doesn’t see it prior. I watch through the glass as her expression melts into motherly pride once more. She’s grinning ear to ear, rocking on her heels as she takes it all in.
‘You like it?’ I ask when she comes back in.
She moves over to look from another angle. ‘I love it. It’s so clever. The balls, the little netball skirt made out of tissue paper.’
Clapping a hand over her mouth, she turns to me, wide-eyed. ‘I almost forgot.’ She rushes off in the direction of the counter.
I follow her. ‘Forgot what?’
Maggie opens the till and pulls out a five-dollar note, placing it gracefully in the middle of the counter. ‘This is yours.’
I pick it up and look at her in question.
She leans her elbows on the counter. ‘Keely Thompson bought one of your bracelets while you were out at lunch.’
My eyes go to the display of leather jewellery on the counter—Maggie’s idea. She wanted to prove to me that people would buy them.
‘I didn’t say a word about them,’ Maggie says, raising her hands. ‘She saw them there when she was paying and added it herself.’
I place the note back down on the counter. ‘This is your shop. I’m supposed to get a cut, not the whole amount.’
‘Pfft.’ She waves the notion away. ‘The shoes are my bread and butter. The jewellery is your side hustle. Anyway, they’re grossly underpriced given the work that goes into them.’
I put my hand over hers. ‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
