Skylar: Hi, Ford! Just wanted to check in and make sure it’s okay that I mention your parents’ home on my design podcast. I won’t name you or your parents, but I’d love to talk about the general themes and looks.
Ah, okay. That’s easy enough to answer, though my pulse is still jackhammering as I settle back into the water, keeping the phone above it.
Ford: Works for me.
There. She’ll never suspect I was watching her if I keep my reply curt.
Skylar: Thank you! And we’ll be meeting at Twice Loved, a consignment shop in Noe Valley, on Friday at eleven? Did your mom like the picture of the chair I sent you?
Skylar mentioned that shop when I followed up with her earlier today. Since she’s seen the house already, she suggested meeting at the store that’s holding the Eames chair. Mom’s initial reaction to the photo was,If that feels as good as it looks, I will divorce your father and marry that piece of furniture.But my mother is notably capricious, so I play it safe and tap out another succinct reply.
Ford: Yep.
Skylar: Cool! I’ll see you there then. I’ll be a few minutes early, so buzz me if you arrive early too.
I frown. That’s a little unusual.
Ford: Are you planning to run away with the Eames chair before I get there?
Skylar: Not unless it fits on the bus. And that’s why I’ll be early, by the way. I catch the bus.
Wait. She’s taking the bus? That makes no sense since she lives right next door.
Ford: I can drive you. We’re leaving from the same place.
But that’s presumptuous. She might have another meeting. I tap out another note.
Ford: But you might be coming from someplace else.
Skylar: I love carpools! I can beback here, neighbor.
She adds a winking smiley face.
Neighbor?That’s casual. Familiar. But does that wink mean she saw me watching her? My stomach twists. I lean over again, watching as she texts and wanders around her kitchen. But she’s not staring out the window, so maybe she doesn’t know.
Ford: Sounds like a plan. Meet you out front of our homes at ten-forty then.
There. That sounds all businesslike. As it fucking should.
Skylar: This is so much better than the bus. Well, presuming you don’t watch clips of Michael Scott at top volume on your phone like the guy next to me on the bus did yesterday. I mean, I love The Office, but I don’t want to hear random outtakes. Also, you don’t clip your nails while you drive, right? That happened to me last week.
I cringe.
Ford: The bus driver?
Skylar: Oh no! Just a passenger. I don’t even know how a driver would do that. Do you?
Wow. She’s hard to keep up with, but I’m ready for the task.
Ford: Using autopilot.
Skylar: Do you have autopilot on your car?
Ford: Yes, but I don’t clip my nails. Or watch TV.
Skylar: In general, you don’t watch TV?
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing.
