Later that evening, after a long hot shower, I sat in my living room with the phone on my lap and a cup of decaf green tea in hand, waiting for Hank to call. We took turns calling each other to avoid exorbitant phone bills. When the phone rang, I took a shallow breath. “Hello,” I answered, curling my leg under me. I’d been anticipating hearing Hank’s voice all afternoon. It was Saturday and I hoped we’d have more time to talk tonight.
“Hey, handsome,” Shirley said. “I have a bottle of Chardonnay with our name on it. Troy is out cold. I’ll bring the baby monitor. Can I come over?”
I’d been neglecting our friendship this week. I hoped she understood. I needed her patience right now. “I’m sorry, Shir. I’m sitting here waiting for Hank’s call.”
“Don’t worry about it. How are you, babe?”
Ho
