She looked down.
“Yeah. I was just wondering.”
Two days later, she unpacked her duffel bag and repacked it twice.
I assumed she was nervous about spending the night away from home for the first time.
Then Saturday morning, the hospital called.
Two nurses had called out, and they needed me in the ER earlier than expected.
There was no way I could drive Greta forty minutes to camp and still make it to work on time.
Greta stood in the doorway with her bag beside her.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I don’t have to go. I can stay home.”
At the time, I thought she was trying to make things easier for me.
“Absolutely not.”
I crouched in front of her.
“You’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. You’re not missing camp because I got called in.”
Her chin trembled slightly, but she nodded.
That was when Owen walked in.
Owen had been one of my closest friends for years.
He remembered Greta’s birthday.
He helped when my shifts ran late.
He knew which kitchen cabinet always stuck.
