Droppingoff the girls at school was easy peasy. This weekend, we didn’t do anything. We just stayed home, played board games, watched movies, and slept. It’s been so long since it was just the three of us. Bella, however, brought Holden up at least ten times, each one about something different, but I see what she’s doing. She’s trying to show me how much he means to me. I don’t have time to think about anything but this right now. And then, tomorrow is the anniversary of the day that changed everything. That’s heavy on my mind too.
Manny, Gus, and I sat down yesterday to talk about the plan, and we all agreed it’s a good one. They were highly impressed by it, and I’m not going to lie, so was I. After I removed the emotional attachment, I can see how I would be a dummy not to take it, but I want to talk to Jerry first.
Jerry, who walks into Ronnie’s, looking for me. The minute he sees me, his face lights up.
“Good morning,” he says, taking a seat across from me.
“Hi. Thank you for meeting me here.” Ronnie’s is already humming with its usual morning rhythm—silverware clinking against plates, low conversations folding into one another. I cradle my mug in my hands, more for comfort than the caffeine.
Jerry looks different than I’ve seen him before. Maybe…nervous?
“Can I get you anything?” the waitress asks him.
“Coffee and toast please,” he says quickly then smiles. She leaves us with a weighted pause, the one where we know why we’re here and there’s no point in circling it.
“So,” I say finally, setting my mug down, “I went over the plan Holden brought over.”
His eyebrows lift, hopeful but restrained. “Yeah?”
“I’m impressed,” I admit. “More than impressed, actually.”
Jerry exhales, like he’s been holding his breath since he walked in. “Good. That’s…good.”
I lean back slightly, studying him. There’s a faint crease between his grey and brown brows as his hands rest flat on the table, palms down, grounding himself. “You and your son put a lot of thought into this.”
“We did,” he says. “Every number, every projection. Holden’s better with spreadsheets than I’ll ever be. He knows his stuff. I was a business owner for a long time, but the eye he has for putting plans onto paper, it’s outstanding.”
“That much is obvious.” I hesitate then add, “It’s solid. Conservative where it needs to be, ambitious where it counts. It’s perfect.”
His smile fades into something more serious. “But.”
I sigh. “But.”
I look around the diner, at the familiar red booths and the waitress refilling coffee like she’s done a thousand times before. I’m stalling, and I know it. “You know this would mean a lot of trust on my end.”
“I do,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t.”
I meet his eyes. “Tell me again why this matters so much to you.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he glances toward the window, watching a woman walk past carrying a bouquet wrapped in brown paper.
“How much do you know about me and Brenda?”
Do I tell him I know everything? That I’ve learned his story through Holden these past few months? Do I betray Holden’s trust?
“The silence tells me everything I need to know, and that’s okay. I’m glad he had someone to talk to,” he says.
My chest tightens.
“If you know everything, then you know I've been given a second chance at life I didn’t deserve. I almost wasted it, not attending the lifesaving treatment I needed. Reconciling with Holden has brought a lot of perspective.”
The waitress interrupts us, bringing his coffee and two pieces of toast. “Anything else?”
“No, thank you, darlin’,” he says.
I take a sip of my coffee, letting it warm me up, waiting for him to continue.
“Brenda always liked flowers. She used to talk about them and about how she wanted a flower shop all the time,” he continues. “Said flowers made people feel something, even on their worst days. Weddings, funerals, birthdays—life’s biggest moments, you know?” He lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh. “I, of course, never listened enough to do something about it, and now, it’s too late.”
