Chapter 20
Samantha practically floated to her vehicle at the end of the day. She’d hardly been able to hold her train of thought for longer than a minute before she began anticipatorily daydreaming about her conversation with Jason at noon the following day. Tran was already gloating when she walked into the front door of the coffee shop.
“He call, no?” said Tran, a wide grin splitting his face.
“He texted,” she replied.
Tran rolled his eyes. “Back in Vietnam, we had similar mode of communication. We tap on bamboo tree. Morse code. Tap, tap, tap. That meant ‘Here come American swine. Kill him now with blow dart.’ You should call sad man, talk like intelligent person, not use Morse code like in jungle war.”
“He’s going to call me tomorrow, Tran, not that it’s any of your business.” Sa
