Twelve
AFTER OUR GOODNIGHT hug, Helen promises to text me in the morning. I watch her pull out of the church parking lot, then walk to the Rectory. I have a bounce in my step and I’m whistling a little tune.
I make my way up the stairs quietly, so as not to wake Anna. In my room, the first thing I do is pull out my phone to say Night Prayer. That done, I change for bed.
I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy.
It was such a wonderful night. More wonderful than the one where we danced and I held her in my arms. We never got closer than a foot, the only time I held her was for our three-second hug when we parted, not even her hand. But at Clark and Vivian’s, I felt closer to her than I have in a long time.
Even when we were in the cabin, coming so very close . . .
What was it? Her laugh? The lit
