“Yeah.”
“I’m proud of you.I don’t know what for yet.But I’m proud of you.”
Maren held the phone against her ear for a moment after Sandra hung up.The notebook was on the chair beside her.The Bird of Paradise stood in its terracotta pot near the railing.A sprinkler came on across the street — someone’s automatic lawn timer — and the sound of water on grass moved through the morning the way it had moved through every morning in Blossom Springs since the day she’d signed the lease on this house and decided to make a life here.
Inside, Graham was finishing the shower-curtain rings.
She set the phone in her lap and let her eyes close.
Chapter 25
Graham drove Maren to work on Monday morning.
She was up at five-fifteen and out of the shower by five-thirty.He had coffee waiting in two travel mugs by the time she came into the kitchen, hair still damp, the lanyard with her hospital ID already over her head.
“You’re fast,” he said.
“Twelve-hour shifts.You learn to be efficient or you don’t survive them.”She picked up the mug closer to her.“Which one’s mine?”
“Either.They’re both yours.”
“Graham.”
“What?”
“You cannot make me coffee in two mugs and pretend it’s neutral.”
“It is neutral.I made coffee.I poured it into mugs.I asked which one you wanted.”
“Which one would you have taken if I hadn’t come in here?”
He looked at her with a grin on his face.“The blue one.”
“The blue one is mine.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She pulled the blue one closer to her body and slid the other one across the counter to him.“Good.”
She put the lid on her mug.Then she stopped at the spice rack on her way to the door, opened it, and looked at it for a long moment.
“Graham.”
“Yeah.”
“The oregano is exactly where I left it.”
“I told you it would be.”
“It’s between the cinnamon and the cumin.”
“That’s where you keep it.”
“It’s out of alphabetical order.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re aware and you didn’t move it.”
