Stages of Grace - By Carey Heywood Page 0,65

from him. "Go get your own."

He swims right up beside me, hands resting on the raft. "But I like this one."

"Don’t you dare!"

He moves as though he is going to flip me but stops. "I wouldn’t dream of ruining such a pretty view."

I blush and put my head down. He is such a flirt.

"So when did you want to start work?"

I lift my head. Tomorrow feels too soon. I want to get a bit more settled before I do anything. "Would the day after tomorrow be okay?"

"Why don’t you take the rest of the week and start on Monday?"

"That'd be perfect."

Kate had gone to get her knitting from inside the house and was now sitting on her wicker loveseat, working away. I watch as her hands move swiftly with the needles.

"What are you making now, Kate?"

"A little sweater." She proudly holds it up.

"That is so cute."

"I could teach you."

"To make that?"

"We'd probably start with something easy, like a scarf or a baby blanket."

"I'd like that."

"Do you want to learn too, Ryan?"

Ryan had grabbed another float and is jumping on it. Once he is comfortable he says, "Nope, I'm good."

"Not manly enough for you?"

"Too manly, actually. I'm terrified of it," he jokes.

"Silly boy." Kate is shaking her head.

Ryan just grins at us, making us laugh. Not long after, I help Kate get dinner started. We’re having salmon and rice with steamed edamame. I’m not sure about knitting but know I want to learn how to cook while living with Kate. Ryan walks in and out a few times, getting plates and silverware to set the table.

"White wine?" Kate asks, winking at me.

"I'll have a beer for myself and open a bottle for the two of you."

"He hates white wine." Kate thinks this is funny for some reason.

We eat on the lanai, and Ryan does not stay long after, wanting to make an early start the next day. I clear the table and load the washer before turning in myself. I have to move some things from the bed to the floor to get in but am asleep in no time. Sometime during the night, I wake up and cannot fall back asleep. My mind is in overdrive, trying to identify unknown sounds of the house and outside my window. A noise may wake me, but the thoughts I cannot quell are what unsettle me. My mind is a loop of destructive thoughts, on an endless replay.

Is this a mistake? Does Jon still love me? Shit! I sit up with a start. I was supposed to call Jon when I got to Florida but forgot. My cell phone is on the charger next to me. Jon had gotten a new phone before I left, but I'm waiting to change mine, still not sure if I want to keep my old number or get a new Florida number. I punch out a quick text to him, hopeful his ringer is off and that it won't wake him. -Made it to Florida, am at my grandmother's. Sorry for the late text. Hope you are doing well. I flop back onto my pillows, feeling guilty for sending that text so late. Part of me hopes his ringer isn’t off and that he will text me back.

What is wrong with me, I wonder. It is pointless to be concerned with Jon now that I am so far away. Does he really miss me? Will he want me to come back? I think back to the first time I ever saw him, that night at the bowling alley. It had seemed almost magical at the time and is still so vivid in my memory. Everything about him, all of our firsts held prime reality in my conscious thoughts. I missed him, I missed home and my parents. I turned on my side, cradling my phone, still hopeful for a return text from Jon. I pull my knees up to my chest feeling more overwhelmed with each passing moment.

My mind will not rest. I am so focused on all of the wonderful moments with Jon and this overpowering sense of loss. I picture everything that won't happen now because I've left. No wedding, no first home, no family of my own. Tears flow freely as I imagine myself and Jon holding the baby we will never have. Sleep is no longer an option as I watch a light from behind the curtain grow brighter to announce the arrival of the sun. I slowly make my way to the