“Eight a.m. I didn’t want to sleep this late.”
Usually, Kaley is up by now. I should give her a call. I dial the number, intent on waking up.
She answers on the third ring.
“Good morning, Kaley.”
“Hey, Baby. How was your drive to Albuquerque?”
“Long. How’s Carrie?”
“I think she’s feeling better. She’s eating soup in bed.”
“How did your writing go yesterday?”
“Productive. I finished my stories. I decided to rewrite one of them, but anyway, they’re mailed.”
“That’s awesome. Good luck with them.”
“Thanks.”
“Did Gerard cut the grass?”
“Yep, and made his usual noise.”
“I bet he looked good doing it, though.”
“If you say so, Monica.”
“I’m kidding, Baby. I love you.”
“I know.”
Several minutes later, I hang up the phone. I care for Kaley, but it’s no secret I swing both ways. Gera
