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“I must’ve hit the jackpot today.” She patted his back, and Tom turned in his seat with his signature smile.
“Hi, Ms. Wheeler. You look very pretty today.”
“And this, dear, is why you are my favorite.”
“You’re my favorite, too.”
She stopped, one leg out the door and grabbed her chest. “You just made my day.”
“We’re going to be late if you don’t get in,” Milo said.
“Oh, you hush. Don’t you see Thomas and I are chatting?”
“What about getting the best supplies?”
Ms. Wheeler swatted the air. “They’re all the same.”
Milo sighed and waited for Ms. Wheeler to get her other leg inside the vehicle. Once she finally slid all the way inside, Milo closed the door while she and Tom continued to shower each other with compliments.
Milo got in the driver’s seat and took off, obeying the posted speed limits, letting Ms. Wheeler and Tom talk.
“How’s your mom, sweetie?” Ms. Wheeler asked, and Milo’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“She’s sleeping,” Tom said.
Silence spread through the car, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. He focused his attention on his game. Milo met Ms. Wheeler’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and she nodded in understanding.
Everyone in Morgan’s Bay knew about Mrs. Flynn. It was kind of hard to cause a ruckus at a local business and not have the entire neighborhood discussing it the next morning. Luckily, the town usually kept their judgment to themselves but not pity, as was evident in Ms. Wheeler’s eyes.
Harper and Tom survived this long, and they’d continue to survive. Harper was tough and resilient—a true fighter, and she’d do everything in her power to protect Tom.
Milo dropped Ms. Wheeler off at the senior center first, so she’d have first pick of the supplies. He helped her out of the car, and she glanced at her watch. “Oh no, I’m late.”
“You’re not late. You still have thirty seconds to spare.”
“That’s too close for comfort.” Milo almost reminded her it was her chattiness that held them up, but he kept that to himself as he offered his arm for her to balance.
He got Ms. Wheeler to the door and headed back to the car for his last drop off. Tom’s head was back in his game, eyebrows narrowed in concentration.
“You better finish up.” Milo put the car in drive. “You’ll be at work in two minutes.”
Tom nodded, tongue out of his mouth, eyes intent while Milo pulled out of the senior center parking lot and made his way to McConnell’s Market on the east end of Main Street.
In a couple weeks, he’d be making trips up and down Main Street more frequently as the summer season picked up and brought people in from the city. For now, he enjoyed the slowness of his day, the few random calls for rides and chatting with familiar faces.
“We’re here,” he said as he came to a stop in the McConnell’s Market parking lot.
“One more minute,” Tom said.
“Tom,” Milo said. “What did I tell you about being late to a job?”
“It’s unprofessional.” He sighed and turned his game off.
“What time you getting off today, bud?”
“Five.”
Milo made a mental note just in case he needed to swing by if Mrs. Flynn didn’t show. “You have a good day.”
