old, trying to make my life easier.
That’s what I thought, anyway. I’d really like to go back and slap that version of me.
“I don’t need to go. I’ll stay home.”
“Absolutely not,” I said, crouching to her level. “You’ve been dreaming about this for weeks. You are not missing camp because Mom got called in.”
Her chin wobbled. She nodded.
That’s when Owen knocked and let himself in, the way he’d done a thousand times.
Owen was the guy who remembered Greta’s birthday, who showed up when my shifts ran long, who knew which cabinet stuck.
That’s when Owen knocked and let himself in
I trusted him more than almost anyone alive.
He took in the scene in about two seconds.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll take her.”
“Owen, it’s forty minutes the wrong way.”
