I hit send before I can overthink it, then immediately regret my boldness. The minutes tick by with no response, and I’m convinced I’ve scared him off.
“Get it together, Nora,” I mutter, shoving my phone in mypocket. I flip the sign to CLOSED and start turning off lights, trying not to check for a reply every five seconds.
When my phone finally buzzes again, I nearly drop the broom.
I’ll be back in two weeks. Maybe less if the weather improves.
It’s not exactly “I miss you too,” but it’s something. A promise of return.
The rooster and I will be waiting.
I lock up the diner and head home, my mood lighter than it’s been all day. As I pull into my driveway, I notice something on my porch—a small package wrapped in brown paper. Curious, I pick it up. There’s no name, no note, just the package sitting there like it’s been waiting for me.
I tear open the paper to find a sleek, black whistle on a cord. Confusion furrows my brow until I spot the tiny engraving on the side: “Rooster Repellent.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest. Did Jericho leave this before he went away? Or did someone else know about our morning chase? Maybe Cheryl? The thought of Jericho planning ahead to leave me this small gift makes my heart do a little flip in my chest.
I slip the whistle around my neck and unlock my front door, suddenly eager for dawn to come so I can test it out. The house feels emptier than usual tonight. I wander through the rooms, turning on lights as I go, trying to chase away the shadows that seem to gather in the corners.
Grandma’s been staying at Cheryl’s more often lately, claiming she likes the company, but I know she’s giving me space. Space for what, I’m not entirely sure. To figure out whatever this thing with Jericho might be? To find my footingagain after Dick’s unwelcome reappearance in my life? To conquer my nightmares?
I make myself a cup of tea and curl up on the window seat that looks out toward Jericho’s house. His porch light is on—probably on a timer—illuminating the empty swing I’ve secretly been sitting in while he’s gone, feeling a little closer to him while he isn’t around.
My phone buzzes again, and I nearly spill my tea in my rush to check it.
“Found anything?”
Just a mysterious whistle on my porch. Wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?
No idea what you’re talking about.
I can almost hear the gruff amusement in his voice.
Liar.
Did you try it yet?
Saving it for morning. Though without you here, the chase won’t be the same.
I bite my lip after sending that, wondering if I’m being too forward again. But he responds quickly.
I’ll make it up to you when I get back.
The promise in those words sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the evening chill.
I’ll hold you to that.
Three dots appear, disappear, then appear again.
Get some sleep, Nora.
It’s not what I was hoping for, but there’s something tender in the simple instruction that makes me smile anyway.
Goodnight, Jericho.
I set my phone down, looking out at his empty house once more before pulling the curtains closed. The whistle hangs heavy against my collarbone, a tangible reminder that he was thinking of me before he left. That even in his absence, he’s found a way to be part of my morning ritual.
As I get ready for bed, I find myself humming—something I haven’t done in years. The tune is familiar, an old song my mother used to sing when she thought no one was listening. I’d almost forgotten it, but tonight it rises, filling the quiet corners of the house.
