“Well, hey there, stranger!” she exclaims. I can hear Tucker barking in the background.
“Hi,” I say, smiling at the familiarity. It’s like no time has passed between us.
“How are you?” she asks. “We haven’t talked in forever.”
“I know and I’m sorry about that,” I say. Truly, I am. “But I’m good,” I add, “how are things back in Seattle?”
I stare across my room and my eyes settle on the framed photo of Beth, Mom, and me, the one placed in here to welcome me. Theheart-shaped seashell Graham found for me sits against it and I can’t help but smile.
“Well,” Ireland starts, “I’m moving.”
“What? No way!” I exclaim.
“Yep.” I can sense her nodding through the phone. “You’ve inspired me to get out of here.”
“Where are you going?”
“I think I’m going to travel for a bit. See where the wind takes me.”
She’s always been somewhat of a free spirit.
“Tell me about your summer,” she adds. “I want to hear all about it.”
So I tell her. I tell her about Jake, about meeting my new friends Raquel and Penny. I tell her about Beth and Charlie, how I almost got in legal trouble for underage drinking, how I ended up in the hospital, and about my therapist. The most exciting part was telling her that my heart now belongs to a sandy-haired, blue eyed boy named Graham. How he showed up like a knight on his white golf cart to sweep me off my feet.
We end up talking for a few hours before we hang up.
Charlie is back in the kitchen later that evening, searing steaks when we hear Beth come home. I duck my head out into the hallway and watch as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on a hook by the door.
“Hi,” she says, smiling as she sees me. She runs a hand through her hair, exhaustion clear in the slump of her shoulders.
“Hi!” I reply, a little too peppy. She doesn’t seem to notice.
I sit down at the table as Beth walks down the hallway and into the kitchen, noticing the flowers on the table first. She lifts them to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhales deeply, savoring the sweet fragrance.
“These are beautiful,” she says as she sets them back down on the table.
Charlie turns from the stove and smiles. I look at him with a smirk on my face, as if to say,I told you so.
“Hi,” he says.
She walks over to him and kisses his cheek. “Hi,” she repeats. “What’s for dinner?” she asks, glancing over his shoulder at what’s cooking in the pan.
“Steaks seared in garlic butter, diced potatoes, and caesar salad.”
“A feast,” she says. “Maybeyoushould come work at the diner,” she jokes.
Charlie reaches for his phone and changes the music playing through the Bluetooth speaker to some upbeat, jazzy pop song as Beth pulls her sleeves up.
“What can I do to help?”
“Not a thing,” he says, with a grin and adds, “tonight is all about you.”
“All about me? What did I do to deserve this?” Beth asks.
Charlie responds with a kiss and pulls out a chair for her. “Now, sit down. You’ve had a long day at work.”
I jump up from the table and open the fridge, retrieving the salad kit. I busy myself with fixing the salad while Beth sits down.
