It took him a moment, but he said, “Noted.” I thought I detected some hesitation, but that didn’t surprise me. I’d been married five years and had learned how to compromise—as a long-time bachelor, David was just starting that journey.
“I know you were looking forward to Miami,” David continued, “and so was I. I’m going to move some things around, and I’ll meet you there—”
“Really?” I exclaimed.
“Yes, but not until Saturday morning. That way I can work late Friday to wrap things up.”
“That’s a lot of travel,” I said before getting too excited. “You won’t be too tired?”
“To see you? No. And I’ll get to relax once I’m there. It’s the best I can do.” He said something away from the receiver, then to me, “I have to run. Anything else?”
I hesitated, not wanting to reopen a touchy subject but also worried about how he’d act when I saw him next. “What about the bruises?” I asked.
“We’ll figure it out together when I see you.”
“Thank you. I love you,” I blurted and smiled. “And I miss you already.”
“Miss you more, baby. I’ll call you before bed.”
I hung up feeling much better. We were back on the same page,andwe’d get our weekend in the sun.
* * *
I’d never been alone in David’s apartment for an extended period, and it would take some getting used to. I didn’t like sleeping without him, and I told him so. His place was big, quiet, and unfamiliar. Without him, my nightmares crept back in. They weren’t as jolting as they’d once been, but they still edged my sleep. And I could tell over the phone that it tore him apart to hear that.
I spent Thanksgiving morning writing, which made David ecstatic for some reason. I continued to do it because I enjoyed it and because I especially liked anything that made him that happy.
In the afternoon, I got ready to drive the Mercedes to his sister’s place in Joliet for Thanksgiving dinner. I’d gotten a stern lesson from David about handling his baby, during which I’d painted my nails and made an occasional noise to indicate I was listening. So, I drove carefully, and it took me about forty-five minutes to get there, but I found Jessa’s house easily—a two-story, traditional-style home with dark green shutters and a matching door.
Jessa came outside to greet me with a hug. Inside, there were obvious signs of a ten-year-old boy strewn around the house—toy trucks, athletic trophies, video games, well-worn tennis shoes.
“Sorry it’s a mess,” she said, even though things had been mostly put away.
“It’s not,” I said. “It’s a home.”
“That, it definitely is,” she agreed.
It was just the three of us, as David’s parents were on a cruise for the week. Jessa had promised a casual meal for that reason and had charged me with bringing a pumpkin pie.
She motioned that I should sit at the kitchen table as she finished cooking. “Excited for Florida tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “I could use the beach time.”
“Sounds nice.” She took a bottle of red wine from her pantry. “Merlot all right?” she asked. “David said it’s your favorite.”
I smiled to myself.Davidwas my favorite. David and his bold mouth calling me“full-bodied . . . with an aftertaste that sticks on my tongue.”
“Merlot’s perfect,” I told Jessa.
As she uncorked the bottle, Alex scurried into the kitchen looking for food.
“Say hello to Olivia,” Jessa said, pouring two glasses.
“Hi,” he said. “Where’s Uncle David? Are you his girlfriend?”
I laughed, more out of surprise than anything. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“He misseseverything,” Jessa said under her breath. “But it’s kind of impossible in this case considering David won’t shut up about his new girlfriend.”
