“Yeah, it has,” I acknowledged.
“Why do you have to wake up early?”
“I have a swim lesson.”
“A swim lesson?! That’s what’s up. I thought you were scared of the water.”
“I never said that.” I giggled. “But you see how I told you something and you used it against me?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t use anything against you! I’m just asking! When did you decide to face your fears?”
“Mm-hmm, I’m choosing to ignore the shade,” I replied, grinning. “My aunt and I came up with lists of things to do this summer, and learning to swim was one of mine. So my last couple of weeks here will have some very early mornings.”
“That’s what’s up.” He paused. “Wait, you’re going to be in Chance for two more weeks?”
“Yeah. Two and a half, actually.”
“You moved back?”
I scoffed. “Absolutely not. Even though my property manager probably thinks so.”
“You’ve been gone all summer. You need somebody to check on it? Make sure it’s still standing?”
I snickered lightly. “I’m more worried about paying rent at a place I’m not staying than I am that Richland Hills is still standing.”
“Richland Hills,” he repeated. “Is that the place that—”
“That’s the one,” I interrupted.
We both laughed.
“So, you’re still in Chance…?”
I sighed. “I am.”
“Everything okay?”
I rolled over to my side, pressing the phone to my ear.
Everything about his tone and his energy put me at ease, but when I opened my mouth, the words wouldn’t come out. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust him or because I didn’t feel like I could. But I didn’t want the lightness between us to disappear. Sickness and death were so dark and heavy. I needed his light, and I needed things between us to remain light.
But I also couldn’t lie to him.
I swallowed hard. “I decided to spend the summer with my aunt,” I told him, choosing my words carefully. “I wanted to help her get through her list, and she wanted to see me get a start on mine.”
“How’s it been going?”
“So far, so good.”
I ran down the list of things we’d accomplished. He laughed when I recapped our picnic and when I told him how my aunt and her friends got down at the drive-in movie. I described the blue hair and the tattoos. I filled him in on the jazz festival, and he asked questions about the photoshoot, the book club, and the mystery party. But he was in a stunned silence when I told him about the yoni steam.
“She wanted to do what?” he balked.
I snickered into my pillow. “It was an interesting experience.”
“What made her want to do— You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know!” He let out a laugh. “But it sounds like you two knocked a lot off her list. No wonder I couldn’t get you on the phone. You were busy as hell.”
“Just like you! You went to training camp, and I barely got a call.”
