Chapter 11
ELEVEN
When June leaves the office for the evening, once again stopping to say goodbye despite my telling her it’s unnecessary, I’m definitely not watching her.
That would be strange and inappropriate.
I just so happen to need to fill my water bottle right after she leaves, and I just so happen to catch her walking out the side door toward the parking lot, past the small grassy spot along the sidewalk. Then I just so happen to see her drop her things and fall to the ground.
Without thinking, I leave my water bottle on the counter and hurry outside, heart pounding.
“Are you okay?” I call, the summer heat cutting through my shirt. Her head snaps back, brow furrowed.
“Where did you come from?”
“Inside. Are you okay?” I repeat, approaching as she stays on the ground. Maybe she twisted her ankle or something?
“Am I… okay?”
Maybe she got a headache that is actually a brain bleed, and she can’t understand what I’m saying?
“You fell and didn’t get up.”
She tilts her head, confused, but her look quickly turns satisfied.
“Did you…were you watching me?”
“What? No. I went to get a drink, and then from the window I saw you drop to the ground and assumed something had happened to you. It would have been irresponsible not to check on you.”
“I didn’t drop to the ground,” she says with an eye roll. “I paused, saw a clover patch, and then knelt down.” I don’t argue because I’ve learned June is inherently obstinate and would argue about it until sunset. “I was looking for four-leaf clovers,” she explains.
“Why?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “A little extra luck. I’ve never found one, so if I see a patch, I like to stop and check.”
“I thought you were naturally lucky?”
Instead of getting annoyed by the accusation, she grins wider.
“One can always use a bit more.” Finally, she stands, then hefts her bag up over her shoulder.
As she does, the handle grazes her ear, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
She freezes, putting her hand to her lobe and looking around. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, too quickly to sound uninterested.
“I lost my earring.”
She kneels once more, looking around while I stand frozen in confusion. She pats the ground, moving the grass, but after a moment, she shrugs and stands with a sigh. “I’m never going to find it in this dim light. I can try tomorrow. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything precious or expensive.”
She reaches down to grab a fluffy white dandelion. She plucks it, closes her eyes, then purses her full pink lips and blows, sending the seeds scattering on the wind.
“There.” She drops the stem and wipes her hands on her skirt, giving me a small smile.
“Are you okay? What was that?” Maybe she did have a brain bleed.
She looks at me like I’m the one who has lost it.
“I made a wish on a dandelion. Sending my hopes up into the universe.”
“You made a wish about your earring?”
She winks at me. The woman winks. “Can’t tell you, silly. That’s the rule about wishes.”
She watches me for a moment before a joy-filled sunshine smile fills her face. “So you came out here because you thought I was hurt, huh?”
“It would be irresponsible to watch you fall to the ground and ignore it,” I say, though the excuse is flimsy even to me.
“Only five days in, and I’m making headway.”
“What?”
“Friends notice if something is wrong, Graham. We’re getting closer to friends.”
“Good night, Ms. Taylor,’’ I say with a roll of my eyes, my default around her. She brings out a childish side of me I’ve never experienced, and it’s one of the many reasons she unsettles me.
“I know I’m getting under your skin when you go back to Ms.Taylor,” she says, somehow able to read me like a book.
“Go home, June,” I say, opening the door and walking in without looking back, though her laugh follows me.
I definitely don’t watch her drive away, either.