said. He looked down at the stack. “Helen and I were in Nova Scotia for a couple of weeks, so they held it for us. I’m sure it’s mostly junk. How are you? I heard you sold the house.”
“I did, I did.” She nodded. “A very nice guy who has a printing business in Augusta bought it. I’m sure you’ll meet him in the next few weeks.”
“Must have been hard to part with.”
“It was. It was a beautiful house, but much too big now that it’s only me.” And just like that, Tim floated briefly between them like a stream of blown bubbles.
Dr. Schramm nodded gently. “I can imagine. And you’re living out on KBI now, right? Nice as your old house was, I’ve always loved those cottages. My aunt lived out there for years. I used to sit on her deck and look at the boats.”
“I do a lot of that myself. I still have work to do on it,” she said. “I’ll tell you what: once I get it in shape, I’ll have you and Helen out for dinner, okay? We’ll eat on the deck.”
“I’m going to take you up on that,” he said with a nod. “You take care, honey.”
“You, too, Paul.” She pulled the heavy door open and went up to the counter. She set the box down.
“First class mail?” said the clerk, without looking at her.
Evvie smoothed her hand over the address label, and closed her eyes for a second. Please, please, please. Then she opened them and said, “Yes. Please.”
* * *
—
A few days after she mailed the package, Evvie woke up when the light started to brighten the bedroom, and the minute she opened her eyes, she was confronted by a plaintive, damp-eyed stare.
“Oh, hello there, pup,” she said to Webster, reaching down to scratch him behind the ear. He closed his eyes blissfully but briefly, then resumed staring sadness daggers from his position sitting on the floor next to the bed. “Are you hungry?” she asked. His ears twitched. “Should we get food?” He hopped up and stood, and she threw back the covers. “Let’s go get breakfast!” She heard Webster gallop around the corner, through the living room, and into the kitchen, where she heard his claws skid across the floor as he tried in vain to stop.
In the kitchen, she emptied a cup of food into Webster’s dish, then put the coffee on. It was nine in the morning. Maybe Dean would be having breakfast. Maybe he was with someone. She should have asked Andy if he was seeing anyone before she sent that package. She should have asked him if he was. She put on sweatpants and her fleece jacket to take Webster for a walk along the lane that led from her house out to the main road.
She and Webster walked out the lane every day, through a thick swath of evergreens, and every day, she thought consciously about smiling and trying to meet the neighbors. This house was about twenty minutes from her old one, still near her dad, still near Andy and his kids. But it was a new neighborhood, to the degree it was any neighborhood at all, and one where the houses were so far apart that it was too easy to feel like she lived all alone.
Back at the house, she took Webster off his leash and then she made herself something to eat, checking her phone entirely too often, wondering if she’d hear anything today. After a while, she went into her living room, where she could see the fog was fading and she was beginning to be able to make out the boats through the window.
As she went to settle herself on the couch with a book, she froze in the living room and put a hand to her heart. If she’d been asked if she could still pick out Dean’s truck’s engine in a list of ten similar rumbles, she’d have denied that she could, but now she knew differently, because the minute she heard it, she was sure. She had only the dog to look at, so she said to him, “Hey, pup, who’s that?” Still inexperienced and unsure what absolute loyalty required in the face of an obvious intruder, Webster yipped at the sound of the truck with as much menacing excitement as a twelve-pound puppy can muster.
Evvie went to the front door and opened it in time to see Dean pull up next to her