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“Have a good New Year’s Eve tomorrow, Charlisa.”
“You too.”
I watch her leave and give a wave to another neighbor as I start to head into my apartment again.It’s good to know my neighbors for a change, and I make a promise to myself that I’ll extend myself a little more quickly to neighbors in my next post, wherever that may be.I’ve used the excuse of traveling too much a little too easily.It doesn’t take much time to get to know people.I look at how quickly I’ve become close to Ava and I’m kind of stunned.
I’m glad that Ava’s here in this little community in Annapolis.As much as I wish that she didn’t have such strong roots dug into this place—because I’d love to see where this thing between us might go—with all that she and her son are facing, I can see the value of her being surrounded by a strong network here.
Yet another reason she’ll pull away from me.And another reason why I need to let her go, if she does.
After sorting through my mail, I sit on my sofa and stare at my phone which rests on the table in front of me.
Nicholas is not my son.His mom and I have only dated a short time.For that matter, I’ve only talked to her kid on a single day out of my life.
So why is my heart in my throat, sitting here, as I wait for news?And if it’s this bad forme, how the hell can Ava manage right now?
My phone chimes and I practically lunge forward, grabbing it.
Ava’s name pops up along with a text.
“Doc says all’s well.Not even going to admit him.Waiting for discharge paperwork.Just want him to follow-up w/ his cardiologist at Hopkins when he comes home.”
I let my lungs fill up completely with air—maybe for the first time since she drove away from me—and expel a massive sigh of relief.
“Did they say what it was?” I tap in.
“Blood pressure drop, prob’ly from dehydration.He’d been sledding—lots of excitement.”
“RU coming home?” I frown as I write it, not liking the idea of her driving home in the dark after a stressful day.
“2 tired.Staying at Bryant’s tonight.”
I like that even less.“Want me to book you a hotel?” I type in.
“No.Nicholas has a futon in his room.He says we get to have a slumber party.Like I’m up for a slumber party, right?” she adds a laughing emoji.
“OK.How about I make you lunch or dinner tomorrow?” I dare to tap in, adding,“Translation: I’ll order delivery.”
A few minutes pass before she answers, just long enough that I’m not even surprised at all by the words I receive in reply from her.
“I think we should talk first.”
