“I can tell you what I wasn’t doing when I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to: I was doing what I was supposed to.”
“And I wondered, with mounting anxiety, What am I supposed to do here? What am I supposed to think?”
“And if it wasn’t as good as before, what was the point of doing it? There wasn’t a point, as far as I was concerned.”
“What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're ok?”
“I got a new shadow. I had to get rid of the other one – it wasn’t doing what I was doing.”
“But what are you supposed to do now? I mean, how are you supposed to act normal?” Mike looked at me, his blueberry eyes searching. “I don’t know, Apron,” he said. “I was hoping you could tell me.” And then, just like that, I understood what my real job was this summer, and it had nothing to do with flowers.”