Darkness Before Dawn by Sharon M. Draper Page B

mind, I drove around, listening to Christmas music on the radio, and thinking about Andy. I ended up downtown, which was surprisingly empty for Christmas Eve. I guess most of the shoppers were in the malls. I stopped in front of a small flower shop with really pretty floral arrangements in the window.
Mom would like this place,
I thought, so I turned off the car and headed inside.
    I opened the door to the rich smell of blooms and leaves and soil. Standing behind the desk, snipping the petals of a poinsettia plant, was Leon Hawkins. When he glanced up and saw me, he inhaled in surprise. It’s the first time I remember that he didn’t even have anything funny to say.
    â€œHi, Keisha,” he said, looking like my cocker spaniel does when I get home from school. “Merry Christmas!”
    â€œWell, hey, Leon. I sure didn’t expect to see anyone Iknew!” Leon looked surprisingly good standing there—with short, black hair and taut muscles under his snowman tee-shirt. I was amazed that I hadn’t noticed before. He looked comfortable and relaxed in the flower shop.
    â€œWhat brings you here?” he asked, smiling shyly.
    â€œI’m not sure, Leon. I was just driving around, thinking about . . . you know, stuff that’s happened. I couldn’t deal with mall madness today, and I wanted to get my mom a nice plant. And somehow I just found myself here. I had no idea you worked here.”
    â€œI know the ghosts of Christmas past can be hard to live with,” Leon said gently. “I know all that happened last year is really hard for you to deal with.”
    â€œYou sound like you’ve been there,” I said quietly. “You’re always in such a good mood—laughing and joking around.”
    â€œSometimes I laugh to cover up other stuff,” Leon said shyly.
    â€œI’m sorry, Leon,” I said, a little embarrassed. “I should know better.”
    â€œHey, don’t sweat it!” he said. “I think you’re really cool, Keisha, the way you’ve handled yourself through all this.” Leon snipped that poinsettia like a barber working on a man with an afro.
    â€œAll I did was survive! There was no great plan. I just live one day at a time.” I started to chuckle to myself—the poinsettia had no leaves left.
    â€œWell, you make it look easy. Lots of kids at school admire you.”
    â€œReally?” I was genuinely surprised. I decided to change the subject. “How long you been working here?”
    â€œFor pay off and on for about six years. I work during summer vacation, weekends, after school, and Christmas break. Before that I’m sure somebody was violating child labor laws ’cause I worked here for no pay at all!” He was smiling again.
    â€œYou worked here as a kid without them paying you?” I was confused.
    Leon didn’t answer at first. “I was just about to close up and go home,” he said, still smiling. “The owner left several hours ago.” He still seemed nervous and excited that I was there—he snipped the entire top of the poinsettia off and it fell with a soft whoosh to the counter. Both of us burst out laughing.
    â€œI guess you got carried away!” I said. “Don’t worry. After tomorrow no one will want a poinsettia anyway!”
    â€œYou’re right,” agreed Leon cheerfully. “Here,” he said, shoving two of the red and green plants toward me, and a Christmas cactus as well. “Merry Christmas! Take these home to your mom.”
    â€œYou want to trim them first?” I said, teasing him.
    â€œYeah, let me go get my chain saw!” he said, laughing. “Seriously, I want your mom to have these.”
    â€œWon’t your boss mind if you give his plants away?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” explained Leon. “My boss is my dad. He bought this shop when he got out of college, so I grew up here. I guess it’s always