He let the somber tone hang in the air for a moment, then he took on a more playful tone. “I’m surprised you came back over after the rebuild, when I couldn’t woo you with my awesome hangout space anymore.”
“It was a tough decision, really,” I teased back. “But you still had that epic yard.”
“Is that why we were friends, B?” he ribbed me. “You used me for my yard?”
I laughed, then his voice came through the line again.
“How’s Whitney? Must be getting pretty close, right?”
“Yeah—she’s 36 weeks. Just a few more. Her birthday just passed, but she wouldn’t let me do anything to celebrate. She’s so freaking stubborn about things like that. She’s definitely getting uncomfortable this late in the pregnancy, shufflingaround the house and stuff. She’s so independent, though. She barely lets me help.”
“Still . . .I’m glad she has you.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m glad I have her, too.”
“Send me a pic of you and Maple?”
I smiled, moving to the end of the bed and pressing my face against her fur. “Say cheese, Maple,” I told her, snapping the pic.
“Perfect,” he said when the photo went through.
“Do I get one of you?”
“I guesssss,” he said teasingly. “I need a haircut, though.”
I admired the picture when it came through, tracing my fingers across the phone screen.
“I like your hair,” I murmured. “Tell me something funny that happened recently,” I said, desperate to return to a place of humor.
“Oh my gosh,” he began, his voice already more animated. “We had a call out at work last week for a person trapped. This frat guy got into his trunk for a prank and locked himself in. By the time we got him out, he was about to wet himself with panic. His stupid frat brothers were on the curb laughing themselves to tears.”
“Oh my—I don’t know whether that’s funny or traumatizing.”
“Both?”
We continued the call, bantering back and forth. Before I knew it, two and a half hours had passed, and I was yawning.
“Tired, B?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Sometimes my shifts really get to me. Today was a long day. Hang on, I’m gonna brush my teeth. Gimme a sec.”
A few minutes later, I was climbing into bed.
“Hey, Cade?” I said through another yawn.
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay on with me, til I fall asleep?”
“Of course.”
“Tell me a secret...” My voice was barely above a whisper, each sentence punctuated by yawns.
“I’ve missed your voice,” he confided.
My heart started thumping.
“I’ve missed yours too,” I admitted. I coached myself into being brave. “Come to Boston for my birthday.”
