I tell Phillip what he said. “Every day that goes by, I just feel like my goal is slipping away from me,” I admit.
Phillip rubs my arm. “I could try to talk to him if you want. Maybe he’ll cave and agree to let you re-try your dissertation before we get married.”
“That would be amazing,” I say. “Thank you, honey. You’ve always been there for me.”
I lean over and hug him. He gives me a light squeeze before turning his eye back to the lens.
* * *
By the day of Phillip’s bike race, the soil samples are dried and ready, and I decide to see if anything shows up on a slide before taking them to Save the Soil.
Phillip leaves early for class, and I promise him I’ll be waiting at the rest stop outside June’s store when he bikes by later this afternoon. Once he’s gone, I check the soil samples I took with Brayden. They’re sufficiently dried, so I fish around on Phillip’s shelf for a clean slide that’s large enough.
I know I won’t be able to decipher much with my limited knowledge, and I know a microscopic exam is more outdated than the methods now in use, but I want to see if anything looks different between the two samples before I involve Save the Soil.
The soil fills each slide easily, and I put my eye to the lens.
The first sample, the one taken from Big River, looks the way I would expect. But the second one doesn’t.
It looks … off. But I’m not an ecologist, and I have no clue what I’m actually looking at. I just know it doesn’t look right, not from all the samples I’ve had to look at for both my parents and for Phillip through the years. I know enough to spot an abnormality. So I place the slide into a plastic bag, making sure to keep it flat and immobile, and then I gather up the two core samples.
I jump in my car and drive to Save the Soil.
“I need you to send this out for analysis,” I say to Patsy, handing her the slide and jar of soil. “I’ll fill out a form, but this soil needs to be analyzed for toxins and contaminants ASAP. And let me know when the results are in—I want a rush order on them, please.”
When I walk into Big Sky Grocer, I immediately look around for Brayden. I haven’t seen him since he drove me home. I don’t see him anywhere, and I try to push down the feeling of disappointment in my gut.
“I’m going to start painting the mural today,” I say to June.
“Great. But before you do that, I have a favor.”
She sets me up at the cash registers. “It’s not hard,” she insists. “I just have no one to cash right now—Kim called in sick, and I have a vendor meeting in two minutes. Just scan and total. The codes for bagels and fruits are here.” She shows me the list taped next to the register. “And the morning crowd will pick up any minute now, so get ready.”
Talk about being thrown right in. The line is around the corner and down the aisle within a half hour. Gerry comes by and asks if we can meet for lunch later in the week. Something about the way he asks makes my stomach twist with nerves, but I don’t have time to ask him what’s going on. So I say yes gratefully and am momentarily buoyed, only to inwardly cringe when Dr. Matt Lucas comes through the line.
“So this is what you’ve been doing since you took a break from school,” he jokes.
“Just helping out my sister,” I say with a fake smile.
Brayden happens to be stocking magazines by the register, and I catch him giving Dr. Lucas a hard stare, a stare that grows more pronounced when Matt adds, “Remind me never to fail my dissertation, huh? It’s a hard fall.”
I grit my teeth and don’t answer him, but the receipt paper in the register manages to pick this time to snag. The entire line gets held up, and I can’t unsnag it.
Brayden jumps over the counter, so I get a great view of his ass while he’s unwinding the paper, and that almost makes up for what Matt Lucas is loudly going on about for the whole store to hear.
“Seriously, Leleila, you holding up okay?” he presses me. “You really should take my wife’s “Spousal Support for Professors” class. It would give you something to focus on.”
I try to interrupt with a quick, “I’m fine, really,” but Dr. Lucas won’t stop. “I feel like I’d have nothing without my research. But I admire your fortitude. Honestly, I don’t know how you’re getting up in the morning.”
“Leleila’s doing great,” Brayden says abruptly as he jumps off the counter and Matt’s receipt finally prints. “She doesn’t need any letters after her name to tell her that.”
Matt Lucas turns red and leaves quickly.
I swallow and turn to Brayden. “Thanks,” I say quickly.
His gaze slides over me like he’s checking for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “And while I appreciate your support, that guy you embarrassed is Phillip’s boss.”
