“That’s impressive. How old are you?”
Delly beamed, glowing at the praise. “I turned nineteen in January. Addy got me a cookie cake with a frosting unicorn on it. I think he confused nine and nineteen.”
I nodded seriously. “I’m easily confused like that. And talking to you doesn’t help.”
Ireland’s lips twitched, and Delly just rolled her eyes at me.
“Do you work full-time at the Locc?” she asked, directing the conversation back to Ireland, who smiled tightly.
“Not really… and definitely not as of this afternoon.”
I leaned forward, zeroed in on this new information. “What happened this afternoon?”
“I officially started working for Ari. We’re organizing a fundraiser to build a greenhouse for Live Oak residents.” She kept her posture mostly casual but bounced a little on her toes at the end, as if she was more excited to share this than she wanted to let on.
“That sounds pretty awesome,” I said honestly. “What all is involved with that?”
Her shoulders sagged. “A lot. I’ve only just started, and I already feel so behind.”
“On which part?” Delly asked, rounding the kitchen and reclaiming her seat at the table.
“Live Oak is matching whatever funds we raise, but the deadline for that promise is soon. Really soon.” Her brows furrowed. “We need—Ineed—to come up with some ideas fast.”
“You will,” I said, meeting her eyes.
“I hope so,” she said, holding my gaze, the blue deeper than before.
“Are you hoping to get contributions from our neighbors?” Delly asked curiously.
Ireland blinked, breaking our connection, and looked at her. “Yeah, and local businesses. Sponsorships for…something… would be great, but I have really only started writing down ideas today.” She fiddled with the shredded hem of her jean shorts, drawing my gaze to her legs.
“What about something related to your classes?” Delly asked a few moments later, and I realized what I was doing, and stood up abruptly, heading to the fridge to cover for it.
I guessed it was my emotional support fridge.
“Like a dance-a-thon or something?”
“Yeah, that could work. It could be a whole weekend thing. Oh! You could do glamor shots.”
I abandoned the fridge and turned back toward them. “Our friend Cole does photography as a hobby. He was planning on coming down for his birthday in July. He would definitely volunteer his time if we asked.”
Delly snorted. “Yeah, because he’s in love with you. He’d probably leave his job and move in here if you asked him to.”
“You—” I took an exaggeratedly deep breath. “—are correct. Ish.”
“Hold on,” Ireland said, pulling out her phone. “Let me put these in a note so I don’t forget.”
My chest warmed the longer I watched Delly and Ireland volley ideas back and forth, with me adding little bits here and there, especially in regards to safety concerns with Live Oak’s residents.
By the time Ireland’s phone buzzed and she headed off to have dinner with Beck, a wrapped plate with two slicesof cake in hand, I was practically giddy at the way things had turned out.
And just to think…
If I hadn’t stuck my hand in that trash bag, this would’ve never happened.
Early the next morning, I slid a note under Ireland’s door.
“I suppose real old age begins when one looks backward rather than forward.” – May Sarton
