She hums in response.
“Maybe going back home will be good for you. It’ll give you a fresh start.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, watching a jet ski fly across the lake as I get lost in the creak-creak of the rocking chair and reflect on the conversation I just had with my mother.
“Did you know Dad was leaving Mom?”
She nods.
“I thought he loved us.”
“He did,” she says softly.
“I thought he loved Mom.”
“We love people differently, I guess.”
I nod at that.
She leans forward in her chair. “You know that all too well.”
I groan, exasperated, and look out at the yard. “I want to tell him.”
“The kindergarten teacher?” she asks.
“JP, Gramma. And yes, I want to tell him but I don’t know how. It’ll seem stupid or desperate no matter how I do it,” I answer with a shrug.
“Who cares? Go tell him. Lay out every thought you’ve ever had about him. Tell him exactly how you feel. Keep the sound of your name ringing in his ear.”
“You think?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer.
The floor beneath me bottoms out and I’m falling until I wake up.
thirty-nine
IT’S ONLY BEEN THREEmonths since I left Donavan. I’ve been couch surfing between Lena’s and Claire’s while I prepare to leave my practice, pack up my Chicago life, and take it to Seattle. Mom is selling Gramma’s house to me for dirt cheap—because she can—and now it’s all logistics and timing. I’ll be heading back home to a brand new set of keys, dusty furniture, and a million uncovered memories.
The biggest life changes often happen in succession and much faster than we could ever anticipate. A part of me wants every single piece to be in place before I reach out to JP and tell him the news. But if I’m honest, I’ve been wanting to call him about my day every day since the night of the funeral.
I thought I could go cold turkey with JP, but it would seem he’s always going to be just under my skin. I take a long drink of my iced latte and send him a text.
Me:Hey.
Simple. Meaningless. It could come off immature and out of nowhere, or it could come off as if we never stopped talking.
JP:Is this a booty call? Because I don’t do those.
I let out a small laugh through my nose. This warm, happy feeling coats my heart and I’m transported back to a time when I was in his arms and life made sense.
Me:You wish.
JP:You have no idea.
I chew on my lip.
Me:Can I call you?
