“Handle?”
I frown. “It wasn’t exactly fun to go back home after we broke up. It felt like your old house was glaring at me through my bedroom window.”
Gracie turns her body to fully face me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“I found something in your guest room. Under the bed. I was just looking around and?—”
“Snooping.” I grin, knowing this woman through and through. “You were snooping.”
“I wasn’t snooping! Jesus.” She wipes her hands on a napkin, muttering, “You and Ben are so annoying.”
“Ben? Like Ben Fischer? From high school?”
“Yeah, we’re still really close. Me, Ben, and Mia—his wife, now. You remember her from graduation, right? After college, I went to vet school in Indiana to be closer to them. We all did post-grad at the same time, with me doing the vet thing and Mia and Ben going to law school.”
My posture relaxes, relieved that Gracie had a support system when we weren’t speaking. “It’s cool you both stayed friends all these years. What’s he up to now?”
“He’s an environmental lawyer, which means that I’ve been forced to drink out of soggy paper straws in the dark—against my will—whenever I visit them.”
Curiosity gets the better of me as I quirk an eyebrow. “The dark?”
“Yeah, he has solar-powered everything. Anything that can be solar-powered is solar-powered. But, like, Indiana doesn’t getthatmuch sun. You know?”
Loud laughter bursts out of me. So much uncontrollable laughter that I start to wheeze.
“Ha, ha. Go ahead. Laugh it up at my misery.”
I calm down enough to narrow my eyes at her and ask, “So, tell me, Gracie. WhatdoesBen have to do with my guest bed?”
She flushes. “I, um, kind of called him in a panic when I found the scrapbook, and—okay. Fine, I was snooping. It’s in my nature; you know that.” Then she throws me an accusatory look. “Actually,youshould have hidden it better if you didn’t want me to find it, so you really only have yourself to blame.”
All I can do is smile at this ridiculous, lovable woman. “I don’t care, Gracie. It’s okay that you went through my stuff. What’s your question?”
“Well, I saw an article in there. AColumbusDispatchstory on my practice. Did you…?” She trails off, all flustered and adorable.
“Ask me what you want to ask me, Gracie girl.”
“Did you look me up while we were apart? How did you find out about the opening?”
“Well, you know I kept in touch with Mae over the years. We had a firm ‘No Talking About Grace’ rule, but one day, I had to know. If you were doing okay. If you’d moved on. If you were still chasing your dreams. I asked Mae during one of our conversations, and do you know what she said?”
“What?” she asks anxiously.
“Mae said, and I quote, ‘look it up yourself.’”
That bell-like laughter I love tumbles out of Gracie as she bends forward and cracks up.
“So,” I go on, “I looked you up. And I saw that you were thriving, Gracie. And for the first time, it felt like we were on parallel paths. Both of us, succeeding professionally, but without each other. I made a decision that day to do whatever I could to become a better version of me, one that you would be proud of. That’s when I started working on myself.”
She nods shyly, satisfied with my answer, and pops another fry into her mouth.
“So, are you done for the day?” I steal a fry.
“Yep! Elle is closing up today, but she’s with back-to-back patients right now.” She pauses. “Did you want to come check out my apartment?”
“Of course I want to see your place, but there’s no rush. I’m happy to wait for as long as you need. I’m not trying to get in the way of baby turtles returning to the sea.”
