Page 94 of Seasons of Love
I should have known it was an impossible achievement and left it at that.
“Talk to me, Milo. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
I shake my head.
“I just can’t do it right now, Mr.—Ellis,” I say, correcting myself since he keeps insisting I call him Ellis. I’m not at work, so I don’t need to be formal.
“You don’t need to give me any reasons, but trust me when I say there’s often a solution. Even when you don’t have it, someone else might.”
This would be one of those times when my mom would have something wise to say. She’d probably tell me to trust Ellis. But what can Ellis do?
“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” That’s all I can say because I don’t want to lie to him.
He gives me a smile, and I notice the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. They’re the lines of someone who’s smiled a lot in his life, even though I don’t see him smiling often.
“I should get back to my sister. I don’t want to break my ice cream promise,” he says. “The favorite uncle crown is mine to keep.”
Sara wakes up and starts getting fussy, so I pick her up and push the stroller with my free hand. The street where Florrie parked her car isn’t far and Sara has her hat on, so we make our way.
Before we get there, I see Florrie talking to a friend, so I approach slowly, not wanting to interrupt if it’s a private conversation.
“I can’t believe it. We need to fight this,” the other lady says.
“Count me in, Vera,” Florrie says, and the other lady walks away.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Apparently, some rich woman in town is petitioning the mayor to turn the playground near us into a parking lot. Can you imagine?” She’s so incensed you’d think she’d lived in Stillwater all her life.
“Nothing surprises me in Stillwater anymore.”
“Something to do with not wanting people to park on residential streets during the craft fair. I mean, hasn’t the fair been around for a long time?”
“Yeah, since before I was born.”
“Then why now? It doesn’t make sense.”
Sara starts fussing, so I gesture for us to head to the car.
“Wait, you don’t seem bothered about it. Didn’t you play there as a child?”
It’s hard to explain the complex relationship I have with that playground, even though Florrie knows some of my family’s history.
We reach the car and I strap Sara into the car seat.
“It’s not that I don’t care what happens to it, but the playground hasn’t been used in years. At least a parking lot would be something.” I get into the passenger seat and put the seat belt on. “I can’t remember the last time there was any investment on our side of town.”
When Florrie doesn’t start the car, I look at her and find her staring at me.
“What?”
“Nothing…” she says unconvincingly. “Anyway, I bought these tiny angel wings from Arlo’s stand for Sara’s room. They’re so precious. He made them himself by hand. Can you believe it?”
“Thank you, Florrie, you didn’t have to buy anything for Sara. You already help me so much.”
She puts her hand on mine and squeezes it. “I know, dear, but I don’t have anyone else to spoil, so entertain the old lady here. Let’s get home. I believe you promised me a tuna casserole,” she says, letting go to turn the keys in the ignition.
“I did indeed.”
