Maybe Jenny wasn’t, either.
“Let me get you an application,” I said.
After she left, Jo said, “I thought you didn’t like her.”
I shrugged. “Back in high school. I’m older now.”
“Wiser,” Momma said with a glint of approval.
“Maybe.”
“Kinder,” Beth said.
I shot her a grateful smile.
“Jenny’s had a tough time since her divorce,” Meg said.
“She’s a hard worker. It’s not easy, raising a child on your own,” our mother said.
Jenny was divorced?With a child. But she was only my age. I watched her and her daughter walk down the street.
A white van pulled up to the curb outside.
“You expecting workers back today?” Jo asked.
“No... It’s probably a delivery.” I’d ordered new storage bins.
My sisters joined me at the window. Like we were kids waiting for the ice cream truck. Or teenagers, watching for Trey to ride over on his bike.
“Maybe it’s flowers,” Meg said. “To celebrate your opening.”
But no, I could read the writing on the side now.cooper signs.
“It’s your store sign!” Beth said.
“It can’t be.” Two weeks, George Cooper had told me when I approved the proof.
He got out and walked around to the back of the van. My heart fluttered in anticipation. But what else could it be?
A big, black pickup parked behind him. His crew. The driver’s door swung open. Work boots, jeans, wild dark hair...
It was Trey.
My heart went from flutter to full-on pound. He lingered a moment on the sidewalk, talking with George, and then they both disappeared behind the van’s rear door.
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Jo said.
Beth bit her lip. “Oh, I don’t think...”
“She’s got this,” our mother said.
“I was only—”
“Not now, Jo,” Meg said.
“Oh,” Jo said. “Gotcha. Okay.”
