Margaret Walks Across the High School Stage on a Warm June Morning
“The orchard that flooded three years ago?” I asked.
“The same one,” Brian said, nodding slowly as he read. “He says he wants to learn how to develop root systems that can survive the heavy spring rains we have been getting in Ohio.”
I took a slow sip of my coffee, the warmth of the mug solid against my palms. “That sounds like something Olivia would have cheered for. She always hated seeing those old peach trees die off after the creek swelled.”
“He has a reference letter from his biology teacher,” Brian said, turning the page. “It says he spent his weekends helping clean up the school greenhouse after the big storm.”
He set the paper down and looked out the window at the bird feeder hanging from the maple tree. A red cardinal was perched on the wooden ledge, tilting its head toward the garden.
“We have thirty thousand dollars in the main account now,” Brian said, his voice dropping into that quiet register he used when he was thinking about the numbers. “The county superintendent sent the final transfer from the savings pool yesterday morning.”
