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“Thank you,” I say, accepting the application. “I’ll get this back to you soon.”
“That’ll be good.”
I step out of the way so she can ring up another customer, and I head back to Evie.
“Look, Mama.” She holds up her coloring page to show me her progress. It’s an old pickup truck with a stack of chicken crates in the bed. She’s colored in the truck with green polka dots on a background of purple. I smile. It’s definitely her aesthetic that drove our Christmas display.
“I love how bright it is,” I tell her. “You use color in such a fun way.”
“Thank you.” She settles down to color more.
Despite the weight of all the things that are wrong right now, it soothes my nerves for a bit to watch her doing her Evie thing, nearly her old self. With plenty of fluids and an early bedtime tonight, she’ll be good to go for school tomorrow.
“Well, hello there, Redmond ladies.”
I look up to find Miss Lily standing beside our table, smiling. “Merry Christmas, Miss Lily.”
“And to you,” she says. “Missed you in church this morning.”
“I’ve been sick,” Evie tells her.
“She came down with the flu on Thursday. This is the first time I’ve let her out of the house, so we’re seeing how she does with a short adventure.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Evie,” Miss Lily says. I love this about her, that she knows Evie by name. “I’m here for an adventure too. I decided it’s the perfect day to spoil myself with a peppermint milkshake.”
“Would you like to join us?” I ask.
“I would indeed.”
She settles into the booth beside Evie, who gives her a smile and returns to her coloring, absorbed in her masterpiece.
“How goes it with your new place?” Miss Lily asks, and despite my best effort, my face falls. Her forehead wrinkles in concern. “Not well? Is it Henry Hill?”
I don’t know what it is about Miss Lily, but I find myself incapable of polite conversations with her. Every time she asks how I’m doing, I tell her the truth for better or worse, and today is no different. In fact, it’s almost like the universe knew I would need to unburden myself and nudged the town wisewoman in for a milkshake.
“He’s been challenging,” I say. “But to be honest, I believe that may be my fault.”
“How so?” she asks.
I take a quick glance at Evie, but she’s oblivious, carefully working on outlining the crates before coloring them orange.
“He finally told me what happened to his grandmother, and I . . . laughed.” It sounds even worse coming out of my mouth in such stark terms.
Miss Lily’s expression is startled, though she finds her composure quickly. “That does sound unfortunate.”
Her good opinion matters to me, and Miss Lily can be trusted with this kind of information, so I explain the circumstances of Marley Ellis’s accident.
“Oh my,” she says when I finish. “I hadn’t heard the details. Only that there was a freak accident and a head injury.”
Why couldn’t I have taken it the way she did? Calmly, with compassion? With recognition for the tragedy? Why couldn’t I—
Wait. Miss Lily’s lips twitched. I saw them. I narrow my eyes, and they do it again.
I test her. “Miss Lily, his grandma got run over by a—”
“Don’t.” She presses her hand to her mouth. It’s as much a plea as a command.
I sit back, feeling slightly absolved, and watch her as she stares at the table for a full minute. Finally, she takes a deep breath and meets my eyes. “That must have been hard for him, so young.”
