“I didn’t know what to do, Abbie. I was worried that he’d come up my walk and knock on my door to introduce himself.So I did the only reasonable thing I could think of: I stopped singing.”
“Good plan.”
“He got all the way up to the church, then turned and stared at my house. Luckily, I only had my bathroom light on. From the street, the house would still look sleepy. I’m standing there behind the curtains, wrapped in my towel—”
“Wait, you saw him?” Abbie’s brows went up to her hairline. “What does he look like? How old is he?”
“Are you kidding? I jumped back from that window so fast. It might be on the doorbell camera though because he got close enough to set off my motion sensor lights.”
“Are those new?” Abbie asked.
“I got them to dissuade the raccoons from digging in my garbage cans when I set them out for collection.”
“And you didn’t check the camera?” Abbie turned her attention to the front window as she inched up with the line.
“No, I don’t want to know who he is. We live in the same neighborhood, and if I’m at the grocery stores, I don’t want to know if I’m walking by him with a cart full of tampons.”
“Cartful is a lot.” Abbie shot her a wry grin.
“You get my meaning,” Sommer said. “But that wigged me out. And I’m done.”
“That’s fine. But now that I’ve been working on this project, I want to get my own witchy cottage in the woods. I’d play opera on the radio and see if I couldn’t attract in my own Graves and the Goth-hound.”
“For what reason?” Sommer asked.
“A quick roll in the hay then out the door.”
“Not my hay.”
“Obviously not your hay.” Abbie wrinkled her nose. “He’s your Graves. I just need to set up similar conditions and hope for a similar outcome.”
“He’s not now, nor has he ever been ‘my Graves.’” Sommer said. “And you know, I agreed to this back in the beginning because I was feeling petty and angry. I thought he walked the dog up to the corner to stop me from enjoying signing. And I’ve come to the conclusion that he probably thinks of it in the opposite direction. He’s trying to take his dog for a peaceful walk, and there it is sitting by the stop sign, howling. It is what it is. Live and let live, right?”
“Agreed. But, still a shame,” Abbie said. “You’re getting outlandish amounts of attention on the socials of late.”
“Am I?”
“Lots of likes and comments. The checks would probably get bigger if you stayed in the game.”
“Honestly, I just want to take my dream trip to the beach where I can risk skin cancer under the hot Caribbean sun, drinking girly drinks without the pressure of making content.”
“Where the local men can take care of your girly needs?” Abbie laughed.
“You seem to be caught in a rut with this kind of thinking.”
“It’s been a while,” Abbie said with a sigh.
“I get you. For me too.”
“Bad transition in conversation topics, but how’s your sister doing?”
“Her office is being super good to her about letting her work from home. The doctors put Sloane on modified bed rest. But it’s hard on her to lie down because everything aches. The twins like to wrestle around under her stretched-to-the-max skin, and it’s getting to be a lot.”
“She’s painful to look at, swollen the way she is. The office might all be happy she’s staying home.” Abbie frowned. “Don’t look at me that way. I saw her the other day at the store. She’s as big as a house, and she was clutching her belly like her life depended on it. It made me really uncomfortable, and I’veknown her most of my life. Imagine a random dude at the office having to navigate around that giant stomach of hers. How long now until the babies are out?” Abbie asked. “Hang on.”
Abbie rolled down her window and called out her order.
Sommer waited for the window to go up and Abbie to inch herself forward before answering. “Fingers crossed she can keep them in for another month, so they don’t have to hang out in the NICU.”
