Wilma narrowed her eyes and leveled me with a stern look. I stood up a little straighter and gave her, what I hoped, was my most charming smile. I was pretty sure I looked more like a serial killer.
“Okay then, Ellie, I’ll see you on Monday,” Wilma said, tucking my resume into a file on her desk.
“Great! I’ll see you then!” I said a little louder than I meant to. I reached across the counter and grabbed her hand to shake it. She startled but shook my hand with a limp wrist.
I hurried out of the office building before making more of an ass of myself. If I could have, I would have clicked my heels.
I knew that an interview didn’t guarantee a job, but I felt encouraged. Hopeful even.
I drove back towards Wellston, feeling on top of the world.
I pulled out my cellphone and dialed, holding it to my ear.
“Professor Hendrick,” Flynn’s dry voice filled my ears.
“Hey!” I chirped. I wasn’t the peppy sort, but right now I was feeling all sorts of peppy.
“Hi, Ellie,” he said and then went silent. Phone conversation was definitely not one of his talents.
“I have an interview!” I told him.
“Good,” was all he said and I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, sounding confused.
“That’s all you can say? Good? You are a man of few words, Flynn Hendrick,” I joked.
“Well itisgood. What else should I say? Should I tell you good luck? Because I figured I would tell you that before the interview.”
“No, good is fine. Great even. I just wanted to tell you. I’m pretty excited,” I said, turning into the parking lot of the local IGA grocery store.
“I can tell. Your voice is loud,” Flynn commented and I laughed again.
“Yeah, I am being loud. Look, I’m making dinner tonight. You’re coming home early right?” I asked him.
“Yes. My last class is at three-thirty. I have to go to my office and pick up some papers and then walk to my car. That will take about twenty minutes. It’s a fifteen-minute drive home. So I should be home around four-oh-five,” Flynn stated.
“Four-oh-five. Okay. That sounds good.” I got out of my car and locked the door.
“You’re making dinner? Can you cook?” Flynn asked and I wasn’t insulted. He was right. My culinary skills were questionable at best.
“I’m sure I can make something you will eat. Your palate isn’t very refined.”
“I have chicken salad if it’s gross,” Flynn said, not meaning his words as an insult and I didn’t take them that way.
“It’s always good to have a back up plan. But trust me. I’ll make you something amazing,” I promised.
“I trust you, Ellie,” Flynn replied and I felt warm to the tips of my toes because I knew he meant it.
He trusted me.
Inexplicably he always had. Even when I hadn’t deserved it, he had trusted me.
“Okay, well, let me pick up a few things. I’ll see you when you get home,” I said, walking toward the front of the store.
“I’ll see you at four-oh-five,” Flynn replied.
“Can’t wait.” I paused. “I love you, Flynn,” I said quietly.
