A third business answers on the fourth ring. Static fills my ear.
"Hello, can you hear me?" I yell. "Hey. Hi!"
"Hey, I'm on a boat, I'll call you back later," the male voice yells back.
I stab the red button on the screen to hang up. Doesn't anyone work in Cypress Grove on a Saturday?
If only I were still talking to Remy. I bet he'd know who to call. He has friends all over. Or he'd try to fix it himself...
I imagine him walking into the bar with that easy smile and his toolbox. The thought puts me in an even worse mood. I've been missing him something fierce these past ten days.
Why did I break up with him? Oh, right. Because he's emotionally unavailable, and probably always will be. That little detail.
While steeling myself for another round of calls to the AC companies, my phone vibrates in my hand. I look down.
Speaking of the devil himself...
Hey, you. Saw the article in the paper. Real nice. Just wanted to say I'm really proud of you.
Just like when I saw him last, my throat goes thick. Every cell in my body yearns for him. Why do I have this reaction to him?
Hey. Thanks, I type. Too cold. I erase everything and glance around the room. The contractors still need to put the final touches on the tank, and there's a random pile of two-by-fours near one wall. There's still so much to do. But all I want is to talk to Remy. To spend the day with him on the boat.
To kiss him.
Hi. Thanks! I didn't think it would be on the front page.
I hit send before I can second guess my response.
There are three flashing dots, which means he's going to respond. I stare at the screen, willing him to text back. My heart beats fast at the thought of having even a text conversation with him.
I loved the part where you talked about having mermaid parties for kids. I think that'll be so popular. You've probably already gotten emails about that.
I grin. The paper's only been out for six or seven hours, and yeah, I have gotten emails from moms who want to throw mermaid birthday parties.
I have, in fact! I've decided to set one morning a week aside for kids' parties.
Awesome idea!
Holy crap, we're having a conversation. I long to ask him if he misses me as much as I miss him. Probably not a good idea.
Then again, why not be up front, like I was in the hotel room? What can that hurt? Why hide my emotions?
My thumb hovers over the screen, and a message pops up.
I'm having brunch with Nat. She says hi.
Tell her I said hi, too. I'll text her about bringing your mom over. I'll put her in a mermaid fin and she can take a swim.
Should I ask him over? Ask if he wants to get a drink tonight? I can probably keep things friendly, and that way, I'll still retain some of my dignity.
She says that's cool. Mom has talked about nothing else for the past couple of weeks.
Love it
I text back automatically, my heart feeling full. I adore Mrs. Hastings.
Make sure you get photos. I want to give them to Dad. What are you up to today?
