“No, but there’s something you can do after you finish this arrangement.” She rested her hand on my cheek. “Try relaxing a little. School’s out for the summer, baby. I know this year was tough.”

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise.

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Okay. ‘Tough’ is the understatement of the century.”

This past school year had put my acting skills to the test. Not because I wanted to be on stage, but because the row of potted plants my English teacher kept on her windowsill grew roots as long as I was tall; the trees in the courtyard arched toward the window next to my assigned seat in science—and everybody noticed. I had to pretend like I was shocked, like I thought it was weird. I had to speculate loudly about the cause. It could’ve been chemicals seeping into the ground from toxic runoff. Maybe all the hormones the government put in our food were leaking out of the lunchroom trash and into the ground, making the trees grow in strange and unusual ways. It made zero sense, but some people latched on to the idea, and now I had to show up at protests demanding the soil around our school be tested, like I didn’t make up the whole thing to keep from being found out. If anybody had been paying close enough attention, they would have seen that every school I’d ever attended had a similar “contamination.”

“I love having you in the shop,” Mom said. “I really do. But don’t feel like you have to be.”

“I love working here,” I said. “You know that.”

“I want you to have some fun this summer. We can manage.”

“But I can help. You know what I mean.”

Mom shook her head. My parents liked to pretend they were fine with me slacking off for the summer, but the truth was, they needed the extra help. Orders were coming in and walk-ins happened all the time, but even though business was steady, gentrification rent was erasing our gains. They couldn’t afford to hire any more people, so I took on the responsibility.

The bell clanged again, and Mo came in balancing a plastic container full of croissants on top of a flimsy cardboard tray with three cups of coffee. I ran over to grab the coffees before they toppled over.

“Good save,” Mo said. She kissed me on the forehead and set the food on the counter.

“It’s busy today,” said Mom. “I got a call about the basic wedding package. They wanted to know if we can do it by Friday?”

“We can do it by Friday.” Mo clapped her hands together and turned to me. “You workin’ today, love?”

“Yup.”