Page 163 of True Blue

Or maybe he doesn’t know better, a mocking voice hisses in my ear.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, my voice low. I’m pacing around my apartment so much, I know my downstairs neighbors probably hate me already. “Hey… uh, how—how are you?”

A long pause before he asks, his voice concerned now. “Indie, are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes, I am okay. Yes, I, er—” I stumble over my words, cringing at myself and suddenly feeling like back when we first met. “So, um… you remember how Ellie gave me the furniture⁠—”

“Yeah, of course,” he says gently, still sounding concerned. “Is something wrong? Did something break? It’s okay, if it did, I’d honestly be surprised if everything safely made the trip.”

“No, everything made it fine! Nothing was broken, the movers did great, but I… I found a photo album in the drawer of her desk.”

“An album?”

“Yeah. And there’s… a lot of photos in here. It’s all Ellie and Pop, from when they were younger,” I explain, but he’s quiet for a minute. “Hey, did you know she went to Woodstock?”

“What?” he chuckles. “No way.”

“I swear,” I laugh, smiling down at the picture of teenage Ellie, with her long hair braided with flowers, in a crochet top and jeans. “There’s a lot of pictures of her and your Pop, though. I think most of these are from when they met…”

“Could I…” he starts, before cutting himself off.

“What?”

“…could I see it?”

My heart skips a beat.

“Of course,” I say, before continuing without thinking. “Do you want to come over?”

“…to your place?”

I wince, slapping my hand against my forehead.

Oh, God. Did I make him uncomfortable?

“Yeah,” I breathe, before adding. “But we can meet somewhere public if you want?”

“Public?” he repeats, sounding confused, and almost offended. “No, I’m fine coming over. Could you send me your address?”

“Yeah, hold on,” I say, putting him on speaker and texting him my address.

“Okay,” he says, before huffing. “You’re only ten minutes away. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual, even with the bolt of anxious excitement running through me.

I think I succeed.

Mostly.

“This is amazing,” Teddy says from next to me at the kitchen table, leaning in close to see a picture of Ellie and Ted at the beach. Ellie’s in a sundress, smiling brightly as Ted holds her on his shoulder, flexing his other arm for the camera. “I’ve never seen these photos.”

“Really?”

“Never,” he confirms, flipping the page and softly laughing at the next set of pictures.

Ellie looks carefree as she twirls, looking like Stevie Nicks in a flowy dress and feathered hair. Ted stands in the back and watches her, a beaming smile on his face.

“They look happy.”