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Noah: Caseworkers recommended the director approve my application!!!!!!!!
Her response is immediate.
Iz: On my way with a bottle of wine and pizza. See you in twenty minutes. We’re celebrating!
My cheeks may freeze in a permanent grin.
Chapter 9
Logan
Seeingtheapartmentfora second time solidifies my decision, and two days later I’m sitting in front of the real estate agent signing a lease. August is nearly over, so my prorated rent and first month’s payment will cover me through the end of October.
I pay half of the deposit now and the real estate agent reminds me the rest is due in full by the end of October. She mentions several times how out of character it is for my landlord to agree to splitting the deposit into two payments, but he’s understanding of my circumstances after losing his own wife to cancer a few years ago.
“Here you go.” The agent hands me a brass key. I clip it to my key ring, knowing it’s more than just a tool to open the front door of our new home. It’s the start of our next chapter.
I rush back to the farm to share the news. Aunt Claire will support my decision, even if she doesn’t understand my reasoning. I’ve run the numbers, and Maggie and I are set for the next two months. If I find a job soon, we’ll be fine. I’ve expanded my job search to Cincinnati, and with a population of over 300,000, someone will have work for me.
As I pull up the long, gravel driveway, Maggie’s leaving the shed carrying Hope, the cat, in her arms like a baby doll. Within just a few weeks of settling in, Maggie was smitten with farm life. Her love for this place took me by surprise because she’d never even been on a farm before we got here.
She comes running as I pull in, the cat still clutched to her chest. Rufus picked up a pair of brown, knock-off muck boots for her a few weeks ago, insisting she needed them if she was going to run wild on his farm. Watching her slight waddle when she lifts her feet in the heavy boots brightens my day.
“Mags, you can’t take off running with Hope in your arms.” I scold, slamming my SUV door closed. “She might get mad and scratch you. Those boots are heavy—it’d be easy to trip and hurt the cat.” I reach over to scratch the top of Hope’s golden head. She basks in the attention and purrs before letting out a soft meow.
Without an ounce of doubt in her voice, Maggie informs me Hope would never hurt her because she loves her. “You still shouldn’t be running, Maggie. Be careful.” I return my hand to Hope’s head and give it a few more scratches before kissing my daughter on the temple and leaving her to continue playing.
My aunt’s reaction is as expected. Unwavering love, concern, and support weave together to form her response: a reminder she and Rufus will help in any way they can. Rufus is understandably disappointed that his new shadow, and favorite barn companion, will be scarcer. My attempts at preparing him don’t seem to have helped.
Finishing up our conversation about the move, I catch a glance at the time on the countertop microwave. “I lost track of time,” I say, hopping up. “I’ve gotta get Maggie ready for story hour at the library.”
“I’ll get her,” Rufus volunteers.
I stop him before he disappears out the kitchen door. “Can you not mention the move to Maggie yet? I want to surprise her.” He assures me he won’t utter a word, and Claire even mimes twisting a key into a lock on her lips, tossing it over her shoulder.
There’s only time to pull off Maggie’s farm boots and slide on her tennis shoes. Thebut-I-don’t-want-to-wear-thatsong and dance isn’t in the cards today. I won’t be winning gold stars from other parents with Maggie’s t-shirt full of grass stains and cat hair and her jeans streaked with mud. I dust off what dirt I can from her jeans before buckling her in for the drive into town.
Maggie finds a spot to sit in the crowd of kids. I catch my breath from our jog from the parking lot and find a seat on a stool as the librarian begins. The library’s back-to-school event is popular and this week’s group must be triple what it was last week. I eagerly scan the faces of other parents, and I’m disappointed to not spot Noah. It’s for the best; my attention needs to be on securing a job and transitioning Maggie into her new school.
Several minutes into the librarian’s rendition ofThe Color Monster Goes to School,the front door of the library bursts open. The librarian pauses and glares as an echo of laughter and the pounding of feet steal her spotlight. Four giggling kids rush to the rainbow rug and plop down. I don’t know the three boys, but the girl is, without a doubt, Noah’s daughter.
I stare at the entrance, waiting for the kids’ parents to enter, but no adults follow suit. Confused and unable to mask the downturn of my lips, I redirect my attention to the librarian just as Noah and another woman barge through the door. They shout apologies and admonish the kids who beat them inside.
“Ladies? Can you take a seat?” The librarian doesn’t try to hide her annoyance, and the parents around me murmur.
Noah’s face matches the red wallpaper behind her as she and her acquaintance weave through the mess of parents and find a place to stand. I glance back in time to see her mouth a final ‘sorry’ to the librarian, who’s already jumped back into the story.
I train my eyes on Maggie and delight in her little laughs when the librarian makes each character’s voice come to life. My mind wanders to Noah more than is acceptable, and my knuckles whiten from gripping the front of my stool to restrain myself from stealing glances back at the brunette I need to stop thinking about.
The gaggle of elementary-aged kids runs wild as story hour ends and their parents attempt to wrangle them. But not Maggie. She’s still unsure where she fits in with her classmates and she’s tucked into my side as soon as she waves goodbye to Rainey. There’s too much commotion to catch Noah and say hello, so we leave without a word.
“Dude, are you alive? I haven’t seen you for like two weeks. I thought we were friends.” Paul says without so much as a hello when I answer my phone.
“Wearefriends. It’s been a busy few weeks. Applying for jobs, getting Maggie ready to start school, and now I’m packing up.”
“You’re moving?” He gasps. “To where?”
“I’m just getting an apartment closer to town.” I tease Paul, appreciative of the noticeable hint of worry in his voice.
