“I’d love to. We’ll meet up for sure.”
“Okay. You have my cell number, right?”
“You keep texting me memes, so I must.” Lisette sometimes got bored at work and had been sending me gratitude memes that started out earnest and quickly turned extremely silly.
“And now I’ll get out of here and you can finally have some peace and quiet,” she said.
Paul was picking up Lisette’s massive duffel bag. He walked over to the door. “Anything else, Lisette? Anything you may have forgotten?”
“That’s it,” said Lisette. “My whole life is in that bag.”
Paul nodded, a quick flash of grimness on his face revealing that he knew Lisette’s history too.
Lisette gave me a massive hug, then turned to Paul. “We have to show her around. She’s only here for two months and she doesn’t have a car. So you’ll have to drive her around and show her the whole province.”
Paul caught my eye. “Sounds like I’ll have to.”
“Alright,” Lisette said to me, “I’m finally out of your hair, as promised, and you can have the whole apartment all to yourself!”
“You can stay for a cup of tea or?—”
“Nope, I’m going! It’s American Independence Day, and you’re finally freeeeee!” Lisette turned and dashed down the stairs.
“Bye, rock star!” I called after her.
“Bye, rock star!” she called up at me.
I turned to see Paul smiling at me, a funny expression on his face.
“Well…” he began. I felt it, right then, the sense that he definitely found me attractive. It was something in his eyes—amused, wary.
“It was nice to meet you,” I said, trying to sound bright and cheerful instead of like a city-dweller who was terrified of being alone.
“It was great of you to do this for her.”
“My pleasure. She’s lovely.”
“Yeah.” He smiled ruefully and I felt suddenly afraid that I was misreading him. Was he secretly in love with Lisette, and that was the source of his half-hopeful, half-wary expression? Then he nodded and took the door handle. “See you soon, Abigail.” And he turned and left.
That night,I had a video call with Laura, who had begun to unpack as soon as her moving van finally arrived from New York. She seemed cheerful as she held up her camera and walked around the small house that Nick had rented for them in Atlanta. She showed me where Hannah was reading on a little twin bed, all curled up in pajamas after a bath. Hannah waved to me and blew lots of kisses, and we promised to video chat for longer when Hannah was not supposed to be going to sleep. Then Laura showed me where Nick was working in his ‘recording studio’—a small, repurposed office downstairs. Nick turned and gave me a half-hearted wave before going back to restringing a guitar. I knew I couldn’t manage much more than a half-smile, but I gave it with as much warmth as I could manage.
Then Laura walked back upstairs, entered her bedroom and closed the door.
“So, how are things really going?” I asked her.
“Fine!” Her brightness seemed to require some effort, but maybe that was my wishful thinking. “Just fine. We’re still getting used to everything. Hannah is taking swim lessons because there are so many pools down here. Her doggy-paddling won’t quite do it anymore.”
“And how are you?”
“Good, good. Just started looking for work down here.”
“And Nick?”
“We’re easing into it. But it’s going well. Things are fine, Abs. Why don’t you tell me about Newfoundland?”
“Well, this is my apartment,” I said, waving the phone in a slow circle. I had decided not to tell her about my decision to take in a tiny blonde woman for a couple of days. “Here, look at the view. I can see the waterfront.”
It was sunset, and a vibrant pink ray of light shot out below the clouds.
