She lets out a sigh. “Well, that’s a relief. One less thing for me to worry about, I guess.”
“Thought anymore about living in the condo? That’d be one less worry.”
“Hayes,” Annabelle says, drawing out my name.
“No pressure. Just wanted to remind you that the offer is available.”
“I know it is, and thank you. But…” She trails off without completing her thought, and I let it lie. “I just pulled up at work, so I need to let you go.”
“Love you. I’ll call you later.”
But when I call her later, she doesn’t answer.
My phone chimes with a new text, and my heart skips a beat, hoping like hell that it's a text from Annabelle.
Since I've been in LA, my conversations with Annabelle have become more and more infrequent. At first, I blamed my schedule and the time difference, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the problem. Even when I managed a quick text or call, her replies were sparse. Short and stiff. Nothing like how we usually talk.
When I called her out on the shift in her behavior, she admitted that she'd had a therapy appointment this week that stirred up some tough feelings. She asked that I give her a little space to recover and lick her wounds. I don't know what was discussed, but it must have been heavy, probably related to her marriage. But part of me worries that she's second-guessing our relationship.
I told her I'd abide by her desire for space, but it's hard as hell not to be there for her. I hate it, and I don't know how much longer I can go before I cave.
When I grab my cell phone, I see it isn’t a text from Annabelle. I frown at the unknown number, but then my mouth relaxes into a grin when I read the accompanying text.
Unknown
Hi, Hayes. This is Grace. We’re doing a class project researching the fifty states in the USA. Could you please send me postcards from California? That would really help our class out.
Damn. I smile and shake my head. If I didn’t know this kid personally, there’s no way that I’d ever believe that a second grader wrote that text. But maybe kids were just dumber in my day.
At least, I know I was a total knucklehead when I was Grace’s age.
Me
Sure, Gertrude, I can do that for you.
Grace
Thanks, Kitten.
God, she’s cheeky, and I love her attitude, especially because I know she inherited it from her mother.
I’ll drop Kitten if you drop Gertrude.
Me
Gertie still in play?
Grace
Yeah, Gertie works.
Me
It’s a deal, Gertie. I’m heading to New York tomorrow. Want me to send you a postcardfrom there too?
Grace
Yes, please! The more postcards our class gets, the better! Thanks, Hayes.
