Free Rolling in the Deep by Rebecca Rogers Maher

bite my lip because it’s starting to tremble. “I’ll be able to take care of him now.”
    “You can retire! You can maybe have a little fun for once.”
    “Fun?” I laugh. “What is that?”
    Beth stands and stretches. “You can find out! You can take a trip to Paris. You can hire a private dance teacher and learn the merengue.”
    “Is that what you’d do?” I gather up the supplies and rise, too, dislodging a cascade of dirt from my lap.
    Beth smiles, considering. “I don’t know. If the instructor were really, really hot, maybe.”
    “I can help out the garden. That will feel good.” I look around at our small plot of land. “We could make this space bigger, maybe expand into the empty lot. We won’t have any trouble getting supplies anymore. Maybe we could hire a part-time person to keep it up and organize the volunteers.”
    “Exactly.” Beth nods. “That’s how you need to be thinking. About the possibilities, about all you can do. You have to stop being afraid.”
    “It’s just that, you know…think of all the millions of people who paid for a Powerball ticket.” I walk toward the shed to set down our empty seedling containers. “And they lost, and I won. Why? It’s not…it’s not fair. I feel like I don’t deserve it, no more than anyone else did. So why me?”
    Beth hangs up her apron on a nail on the shed wall. “It’s just luck, Holly. It’s not about fairness or whether you deserve it. It just happened. It’s random.”
    “It doesn’t feel right.”
    “Well.” Beth punches me lightly on the shoulder. “Sorry. But you’re gonna need to suck it up. You won the money. You feeling guilty about it isn’t going to magically make the world a fair place where everyone gets what they need or deserve.”
    It’s dark inside the shed, and cool. It smells like worms and spring.
    Beth stares me down, and then continues. “You worrying, about Brett or Drew or whatever, isn’t going to make anything better either. All you can do is live the best life you possibly can. Be kind and share what you’re able to share. And enjoy it. For God’s sake, you’re rich, sister. This is what people spend their whole lives dreaming about.”
    I set my tools down on a table with three legs, which stands upright only because we’ve wedged it against the wall. It slips occasionally, though, and everything we store on it lists into the corner.
    I can fix it now. I can buy a whole new damn table. A new shed. A new everything. A little sob of energy rays through me, like a spark through my stupid tears.
    It feels the same way kissing Ray felt—too wild to be trusted. Too out of control. And random. Totally random.
    “I wish I could talk to Ray about it,” I tell Beth.
    “Why don’t you?”
    “You know why. The lawyer—”
    Beth rolls her eyes. “Fuck the lawyer. And fuck Brett, too. If you want to talk to Ray, talk to him. He’s probably freaking out as much as you are. And who else understands what’s happening to you right now better than he does?”
    “He understands a little too much,” I say carefully.
    Beth narrows her eyes and leans in. “What does that mean?”
    I don’t know what to say. I just look at her. The quiet and stillness of the shed is like a confessional.
    “I was going to tell you. I just…there was so much going on, and—”
    “Oh my God, Holly.” Beth’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas. “Did you sleep with him?”
    I bite my lip. “No, but I…I kissed him. He kissed me. We—”
    “You kissed each other. I get it.” Beth shakes her head, grinning widely. “You have to tell me absolutely everything. When?”
    “The night we found out about the ticket.”
    “Holly, that was like three days ago.” Beth pulls up a rusty folding chair.
    “I…” I shut my eyes tight and sit down on the dirt floor. “I just…Beth.”
    She stills. “Was it bad?”
    I shake my head, silent.
    Beth watches me steadily. “You’re turning bright red.” When I cover