After I toss on a robe, I scoot to the kitchen and ask tentatively, “You doing okay?”
Dave nods and reassures me with a genuine smile. “I am.” He sets out two plates. “I’d never talked about that day. Not with anyone. But it feels good to have gotten it out.” He serves me my beloved Benedict, along with a coffee, and then gives me a kiss. “Thank you.”
I inhale my favorite meal and also hold up my phone to record this. I mean, I have to.
Then I message Megan Madonna with my gratitude for how she is a total goddess and send her a big year-end bonus.
I also Zelle Mark some holiday money and text him with some new ideas I have. Ones he must be a part of.
Me:Get ready for a new career!
To my surprise, he writes back almost immediately.
Mark:Diana! Aww, thank you. So sweet of you to send that money. FYI, I’ve been working and got a voucher for housing. The painting gig is really cool. But your new ideas? Yeah, consider me hired.
My smiles and happiness are feeling foreign but so good, and I clap my hand on to the counter and wait for Dave’s hand to meet mine. “Hey, I’ve got a few errands to run, but can we get a Christmas tree later today? I’m sure there must be a cute place nearby.”
“There is,” he confirms.
“Back soon,” I promise.
After some research, I made a request to review a restaurant south of where I am. I’ve backed off of doing so much recently, this restaurant is small, owned by a couple on the coast of Maine, and they’re just struggling to get noticed. It’s a mix of cuisines, but I truly would order every dish. Once I looked at their menu, I couldn’t say no. Especially because I saw pictures of their staff.
I messaged with the chef/owner, Terrance, who was sweetly overwhelmed and surprised that I wanted to visit their little place, but I assured him that I was all in.
When I arrive, there are people grabbing boxes from a delivery truck, so I sit and wait and play on my phone until things calm.
Then I hear someone call out, “Billy!”
I startle and watch a young guy unload iced trays as he chats with other people on the dock. He is handsome and athletic. His brown hair blowing across his face as he works. What’s nice to see—and what’s clear, simply by the way he carries himself—is that he’s happy.
Still, I have to take a breath before I approach this young man. The person I was hoping to find.
Little Blue.
Little Blue is not a child anymore, and I smile as he steps forward, both of us a bit hesitant.
While I know who he is, he also knows who I am.
“Diana?” he confirms.
“Yes. Billy, right?” It takes a beat before I can say more.
“You got our invite to try my family’s restaurant.” He takes a beat. “But I also know you’re here for more. And I’m glad. I’ve seen your posts.” Billy gives me a look, a smile. “And who you’ve tagged.”
“It’s why you messaged me, yes?”
“For sure.” Little Blue smiles widely and then waves a hand to usher me inside. “But truthfully, the food here is really damn good.”
Thankfully, he is telling the truth because I almost cannot eat fast enough. Megan Madonna is going to have to deal with a slew of incoming videos.
Then Billy sits down at the table with me, and after an hour and his insight, I leave, but only with his tight hug.
When I’m back at my Airbnb—the one I’m hoping we’re moving on from—I find that Dave has not only packed up his stuff, but he’s also already packed my clothes and cosmetics.
“I’ll leave the cat to you, but I’ll lift his million-dollar litter box into the car when you’re ready.”
“I’m so ready.”
