Page 21 of Late Bloomer
“What if I buy it from you?” I say, unable to hide the desperation threatening to crack my chest in two. But desperate is all I am. I will do anything—absolutelyanything—to hold on to the only home I’ve ever known.
Opal lifts one shoulder in a loose shrug. “That would certainly solve some of our biggest problems.”
My stimming increases in speed as anxiety and ideastumble around my gut. “It’s just… I’d need to do it over time. I don’t have money like that sitting around. We could arrange something where I work off payments? Like proceeds from the farm’s sales?” Considering the bad shape Thistle and Bloom’s finances are in, this would likely take a lifetime. But maybe there’s some hope? Somewhere money could be squeezed, operations made even leaner? “Or I could try to take out a loan?”
Opal shrugs again. “I’m okay with that.”
My brain trips over itself as endless what-ifs vie for attention. “We could come up with a deal? After this season, I give you what I earn, and maybe it will be enough to put a dent in the total? Enough that you could, uh, find somewhere else to do your shoe… business… thing?”
Opal gives me a sad smile. “And until then?”
“I…”
I’m hit with a visceral type of fear as I realize I might not have a place to stay through summer and early fall. Memories of the loneliness—the helplessness—of being that little girl who didn’t know where her next shelter would be slap at my cheeks and singe my nerves. My lips start tingling, palms sweating, as anxiety hums through me, hope disappearing like smoke.
“I think we could manage being roommates for a few months, if you’re open to it.”
It takes me a moment to process what Opal said.
“You mean”—my voice is rough—“we both stay here?”
“If you’re open to it,” Opal repeats, taking a step toward me. “I know I’ve massively intruded into your life, but if youdon’t mind sharing the space… I’m not generally the best at living alone anyway. And things can’t exactly get worse for us, right?”
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I think you should knock on wood or something.”
Opal’s smile returns with full force, her entire face glowing. I’m filled with this odd sensation that I kind of…missedOpal’s smile in the moments it was gone. Which is bizarre. And likely just because I’m being bombarded with so many emotions I can’t think straight.
Slowly, she leans toward me, and my heart pounds so violently in my chest that my head swims. Is she… It almost seems like she’s going to press that smile to my mouth. Teach me how it tastes. She’s a whisper away, the warmth of her skin tickling mine, and I can’t do anything but stand there as she closes the distance and…
Sways at the last second, rapping her knuckles against the wooden cupboard.
She straightens up, smile still radiant. “Do we have a deal?” Opal nudges my foot with hers.
I nod, licking my lips, trying to catch my breath as it leaves me in sharp bursts.
“Okay,” I eventually manage, my voice half defeat, half hope. “Yeah. Okay.”
Opal lets out a tiny squeal, then claps her hands, her energy like a bolt of lightning through the cabin. “Can we hug it out, roomie?”
In a daze, I feel myself give a tiny nod.
Opal’s arms are around my neck in an instant, pulling me close. I’m quite a bit taller than her, so I have to stoop for her to rest on her flat feet, but she presses against me all the same.
It must be how tightly Opal holds me that makes all the air rush from my lungs. My heart beat in double time. My limbs flood with warmth.
“This will end up being great, I promise,” Opal whispers into my shoulder, the soft glow of her voice skipping down my spine.
As a perpetual pessimist, I know it’s far more likely that this will end in disaster, and neither of us should expect anything different.
Yet, for some unknown reason, I let Opal continue to hug me—even hugging back a bit—a teeny-tiny ember of hope glowing in my chest.
Chapter 8OPAL
My fresh start is not going great by any account.
Which is fine. So totally fine. Because I can pivot. I can pivot the hell out of any situation. If anyone has experience finding the bright spot in a steaming pile of shit, it’s me.
So what if this new situation means I’ll have to move in about four months and likely won’t see the majority of my investment in the property for the next several years? Minor details. The kind of things finance bros worry about. Not me. Because I have all those pivoting skills and whatnot.
