Over the winter, Alice got a part-time job at a drugstore in Kennewick Center. Jake had brought it up, asking Alice if she was bored just taking classes and spending time at home. “No, not really,” she said.

“It doesn’t bother you that you spend so little time with other people?”

Alice frowned and thought about it. “I spend time with professors, and I talk with other students, but you know I’d rather be here with you.”

“I know, I was just . . .” He trailed off.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. I just wanted to make sure that everything is great with you as well. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t think you were missing out on things other girls your age do. Like go to parties. And have jobs.”

“I definitely don’t miss going to parties. That’s for sure. I hadn’t really thought about a job. Do you think I should get one?”

“I think you should if you want to. You don’t need to, obviously, but I had the thought. They’re hiring at Blethen’s Apothecary.”

She’d applied and been hired at the end of her interview by a manager not a whole lot older than she was, a stutterer named Jeff who was almost skeletally thin. She’d thought she’d hate the job, especially after Jeff informed her that treating customers with respect was her number one priority, but she turned out to love it, even the menial tasks, like restocking the shelves, making sure that everything along the row was displayed neatly and perfectly. She liked this part of the job actually better than running the cash register, but she didn’t even mind that. Her favorite part was cashing out at the end of her shift, adding up the register contents against the receipts, making sure it balanced. She didn’t mind dealing with the customers, but she didn’t like when people recognized her from high school, either old classmates or past teachers. They always asked her what she was doing now, and she’d say that she was taking classes at MCC, and sometimes, though not often, they’d ask her where she was living, and she would simply say that she was still at home. A couple of times, she saw the memory that her mother had died pass across their features. They would blush, or avert their eyes, not knowing what to say. It was awkward, but it didn’t last, and most of the time she never saw them again.