Chapter 2
611 Words
By the time the last guest leaves, my shoulders feel wired into place.
Eve drops into the passenger seat the second I unlock the car. “If that bride asks for a different shade of ivory tomorrow, I’m quitting and opening a bakery.”
“You can’t bake.”
“I can emotionally bake.”
I pull into the street. Midnight traffic hums instead of moves, headlights sliding across the windshield in slow lines that make everyone look undecided about where they belong.
She studies me. “You’ve been strange since the call.”
“I’ve been working.”
“You reorganized the vendor list alphabetically. Twice.”
I adjust the mirror even though it doesn’t need adjusting. “Efficiency.”
“You also said thank you to a chair.”
“That chair held the cake table level for six hours.”
My phone lights in the holder. No sound, just the screen waking and fading.
Eve notices. “Expecting someone?”
“No.”
The radio fills the silence, low enough that we both ignore it. Familiar streets take over decision-making. Turn. Signal. Brake. Park. Routine usually clears my head, but not tonight.
Tonight it doesn’t.
The apartment window is lit when I reach the building.
“He waited,” Eve says quietly.
I nod. “Go home. Sleep.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
She watches me a second longer, then shuts the door. “If mysterious rich man kidnaps you, I’m taking over the company.”
“You’ll alphabetize everything.”
“Exactly.”
Upstairs, the lock opens before I reach my keys.
My mother stands there already smiling, “He negotiated for an extra ten minutes.”
Small arms wrap around my waist. “You said before the knight lost,” Luca murmurs into my coat.
“I’m right on time, honey” I lift him and he presses his cheek to mine, warm and heavy with sleep.
“You smell like flowers.”
“That’s my battle armor.”
He considers this seriously as I carry him down the hall. The nightlight paints the room in soft gold. His dinosaur waits exactly where he left it, positioned to watch the door.
Halfway through the second page, his eyes close. I keep reading anyway…Habit matters to children more than endings.
When I finally stop, his fingers still clutch the edge of my sleeve.
I ease it free and sit there a moment.
My phone vibrates once against my pocket.
I step into the hallway before checking it.
Another email, and of course, no subject again.
Attached: a boarding pass.
Naples. Tomorrow afternoon.
I don’t move for a few seconds.
Below it, a single line.
You shouldn’t delay this.
From the living room my mother calls softly, “Everything okay?”
I lock the screen and walk out. “Work.”
She watches me the way mothers do when they hear the word but not the meaning. “Big?”
“Yes.”
I pour water that I don't drink.
Yet again, the phone vibrates again in my hand this time.
I leave it face down on the counter.
We talk about ordinary things for a while… Grocery lists, a neighbor’s loud television, Luca’s drawing taped to the fridge, and everywhere felt normal around the room.
Eventually she yawns and disappears to bed.
Silence settles differently at night…
I pick up the phone and open the message.
No greeting, just a You always overpack. Don’t this time.
I sit on the edge of my bed very still, because I have never once traveled light in my life.
And only one person ever complained about it.
- Writer
