“Come on, you have got to get out of that dingy apartment for a few hours. You’ve been chained to that desk for four straight weeks. A little daylight and human contact might inspire you.”
“My hair’s dirty and I’m still in pajamas.”
“It’s three o’clock! And you’re only proving my point. Throw your hair up in a bun and put on some real clothes. Better yet—take a quick shower. Thirty minutes. I’m not accepting no for an answer.”
And just like that Caroline hung up.
Sadie sighed. “Fine.” So she was a little depressed. And stressed. Who could blame her? The deadline was creeping up on her, and she had no idea how to work this story out. It was so much easier with westerns—the protagonist fought the antagonist and won. Easy-peasy. Maybe a little distance from the story would help. Sitting here staring out at the construction site sure wasn’t doing any good.
Thirty minutes later Sadie neared the coffee shop. She’d put her damp hair up in a bun, and she was feeling a little better. The sun was even trying to peek out. Somewhere between South Carolina and Queens, she seemed to have lost her optimism. She needed to stop thinking about Sam and her story for two seconds and just enjoy the day. Enjoy her time with Caroline. Enjoy all the lovely people around her.
She reached the door at the same time as two male teenagers. She gave them a wide smile and opened it for them. “After you, gentlemen.”
They barely glanced her way as they slipped inside and made a beeline for the barista.
Okay... Sadie swept her gaze over the interior, searching for her friend. But Caroline hadn’t arrived yet, so she got in line behind the teens. When it was her turn she placed her and Caroline’s drink orders.
“Looks like it’s trying to sun up out there,” Sadie said to thethirtysomething woman ringing up her order. “At least it’s not raining, huh? It was so dreary yesterday.”
“That’ll be nine seventy.”
Sadie used her phone to pay, making sure to leave a nice tip. “Long day? I get it. I’ve been typing so hard my fingers have calluses. I’m writing a novel.”
“Want your receipt?”
“Um, no, that’s okay.”
She headed toward the pickup counter. She was starting to miss more than Sam and the beach. She hadn’t had a decent stranger-chat since she’d come home. Had people in her neighborhood always been so unfriendly? Didn’t anyone around here have the time or inclination to shoot the breeze? She barely had to nod her head on Tucker Island and soon they were talking about the weather, books, or the economy.
“Well, lookee there.” Caroline came up beside Sadie and squeezed her shoulders. “You can come out in the daylight.”
“I’m not a vampire.”
“I was starting to wonder. I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”
“I haven’t seen anyone except my characters, and they’re miserable company right now. I ordered you a lavender tea with a dash of cream.”
“Perfect, thank you. I assume you got yourself something with plenty of caffeine.”
“I’ll need it if I have any hope of finishing this story on time.”
When their order came up they took their drinks and settled at a table in the back corner.
“It has to be hard,” Caroline said, “drafting a story about characters who are essentially you and Sam. I’d ask if the writinghas been therapeutic or just heart-wrenching, but judging by your expression I think I can guess.”
Sadie took a sip of her Americano. “If this is what therapy feels like, count me out. So far it’s only made me miss him more. He was so kind and generous and loving. He’s everything I ever wanted in a man, Caro.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could make it better.”
“Me too.” Her characters were now broken up, and Sadie didn’t know how she was going to put it all back together. It was a romance novel—a happily ever after was a requirement. Sadly, that was not the case in real life.
She took another drink, hoping to dislodge the lump swelling in her throat. Her chest ached all the time. And if she wasn’t actually crying, she felt like it.
She turned a beseeching look on Caroline. “It hurts so much. I’ve never experienced anything like this. What if it never gets better? Because it doesn’t feel like it will. What if I just have to feel like this the rest of my life?” She blinked back tears.
Caroline covered her hand. “Oh, honey, you won’t. I know it hurts, but I promise it will get better. Remember how much I loved Eric Dugan in college? Two years together. When we broke up I thought I would shatter.”
“I remember.” Her friend had fallen apart for a while. Missed some classes, bombed a test or two. “How long was it until you started feeling better?”
