Thank you. But no.
I swallow, then type carefully.
What if I arranged for you to watch the game from a box? Family and VIPs only. Private. Theo could watch from the balcony. You could sit inside, or just eat the food and listen to a podcast. Zero jumbotron risk.
There’s a beat.
Juliette:
…
Then the dots stop. Then they start…
Juliette:
Okay wow. That is generous of you and it sounds AMAZING!
I laugh out loud.
Tell you what—if you think you might want it, I’m happy to ask. I owe you and Theo for letting me burst into your lives like this.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Then:
Juliette:
Be truthful. Is it weird that I have PTSD from a jumbotron at a hockeygame?
My thumbs move without hesitation.
No. It would be weird if you didn’t.
Silence. I slide into my car, start the engine. The phone dings.
Juliette:
No promises, but I’ll think about it.
“Yes,” I whisper, pumping my fist like I just scored in overtime.
Sounds like a deal. You let me know.
A second later:
Juliette:
I grin at the screen. Not only did I get a hug today, but I also scored a thumbs-up.
That’s progress.
CHAPTER 12
JULIETTE
Vivian and I are tucked into the tiny table in the back of Leaf & Letter, eating salads out of compostable bowls like two women who absolutely meant to be healthy and then emotionally ordered croutons with a side of extra ranch.
“So,” Vivian says, stabbing a cherry tomato. “Have you figured out what to do for Theo’s birthday?”
“Okay, I know I kiboshed educational outings, but…” I shove another forkful of lettuce in my mouth, chew fast, and point my fork at her. “Hear me out—what if we took a tour of some of the Civil War battlefields. We could drive up toward Frederick, make a little weekend of it. Western Maryland, fresh air, history?—”
