“I’ve been missing your father most of my life,” she said dryly. “Could be he’s missing me, too. At least now when I call him, he shows up.”
Another chirp from my phone.
“Should you get that?” Meg asked.
“It’s just a blog comment.” I shifted my weight to one hip, holding on to DJ, reaching for my pocket.
“I liked that post you did about the cats,” Beth said.
“Everybody liked that one,” Amy said. “But your branding is wrong. You need a new logo.”
“If you want to redesign something, look at the farm website,” our mother said.
I stared at my phone screen. My heart ricocheted to my throat. Not a comment. Not a text. A phone call.
“Who is it?” Beth asked.
Amy craned to see. “Eric. Oh my God, is that him?”
“Answer it,” Meg said.
“Hello?” I croaked.
“I talk, Auntie Jo!” Daisy demanded.
Meg hushed her.
“Jo.” His voice; oh, his deep, remembered voice.
“Hi.”
Daisy, denied the phone, broke into wails. Meg picked her up, murmuring soothing sounds.
“You are well?” Eric asked politely.
I’m pregnant.
“I’m fine. That’s Daisy. My niece.” It seemed absurd to be making small talk after our online flirtation, the intimacy of his late-night comments. “How... How are you?”
“I am here. In North Carolina. Bryan has a tournament this weekend. I did not call before because I did not know his schedule. If his team would advance. But I would like to see you before I go.” His deliberate sentences, his Old World courtesy, made him sound very formal. Or possibly... nervous?
Warmth filled my chest. He wanted to see me!
“He has a playoff game this afternoon,” Eric continued in that deep, delicious voice. “But when we are finished, perhaps we could visit you. If that would be okay.”
My brain scrambled. “Here? Today?”
“This is a problem?”
Meg grabbed my arm. “He’s coming here?”
“Who? Eric?” Amy asked.
I flapped my hands at them to be quiet. “It’s just... There are people coming over.”
“You have a party.”
“It’s only family. A dinner for my mother.”
