"Rusty, I think you have some mail."
"What?" He pulled his head back out of the refrigerator and looked at Sharon. He had been trying his best to be quiet, because she had been asleep when he had gotten home from work. It had been her first day back. He had come home, just after six, and she was asleep on the sofa, still in her work clothes, half curled under a blanket, with one hand dangling over the edge of the cushions and the other arm arched over her head. He had taken a photo on his phone and promptly sent it to Ricky. Blackmail to be used against Sharon if they ever needed it.
"Mail," she said amusedly. "It comes in paper rectangles called envelopes."
"Ha. Very funny." Nonetheless, he walked back to the side table by the door and began rifling through the day's mail. "How was your day?"
"Oh." She stretched her arms over her head. "Not too bad. Very low key."
"Did you pass your tests or whatever they are?" He found two envelopes addressed to him, and tried not to sound too excited.
"My firearms test and the psychologist? Yes. I very nearly beat Lieutenant Provenza's last score. I think he was just lucky that round. I won't have to take a physical for a while yet, though." She walked over to him. "What's this?"
He held up the letters. There was one from UCLA and one from Reedley. "College admissions."
She was silent, and he looked up, worried, but found her smiling widely. "Do you want to open them?"
He stuck one finger under the flap and tore the paper open, then did the same with the second one. He read them to himself, as Sharon looked on anxiously. He handed them to her when he had finished, but she didn't read them.
"Well, what do they say?" she asked instead.
He chewed his lip. "I got in."
"To both of them?"
"Yeah. And I think I got some scholarship, too." He didn't sound excited, but he was, inwardly. It was almost too much to process. A kid like him, getting accepted to colleges and getting paid to go.
"Oh, honey!" Sharon flung her arms around him, and he grinned as he held her tightly.
She had made it all possible, he thought. Without Sharon Raydor and her relentless doggedness, he'd probably still be on the streets. She had forced him to do better than he'd ever thought he could do, and then pushed him further.