Page 19 of We Can Forever

“Oh. Isn’t that a bit much, sweetie?”

I frown over my steering wheel. “No. Why would it be too much? What do you mean?”

“I’m just concerned about your health, Hannah. Your shop is still new, and I know that takes a lot of work to run. And you have all these other side projects going on.”

“What other side projects?” I laugh, trying my hardest to keep my annoyance at bay.

“Teaching at the elementary school. Your grant application. Your new meetup group—which is great. I absolutely think you should keep doing that.”

“The grant application doesn’t even take up that much time.” That’s not entirely true. It is taking hours, but it’s also something that I both need and want to do.

“I don’t want you to have a bad flare. That’s all.”

Closing my eyes, I drop my head back against the headrest. I get where she’s coming from, and if she doesn’t worry about me, who will? Carol is more than my aunt; she’s my adoptive parent, the woman who raised me after my mom died when I was eight. She’s been with me through it all, including the manifestation of mystery symptoms and the long, trying hunt for a diagnosis.

She knows as well as I do that if I push too hard, my health will be the price to pay.

What she doesn’t know as well as I do are my limits. I’m doing fine right now.

There’s really no way to convince her of this, though. There never is. So I say what needs to be said in the moment.

“I’ll pace myself. I’ll slow down.”

“Thank you.” She sighs in relief, and the conversation turns to other things as I drive to Flick’s condo. She’s closed up the shop by now, and we’re due for our weekly “stitch and bitch,” as we lovingly call it.

“Tell Einstein I said hi,” I say to my aunt as I turn into Flick’s neighborhood. “And give him a scratch on the belly for me.”

We hang up, and it’s a good thing I know the drive to Flick’s condo like the back of my hand, because I was thoroughly distracted on the way over here, the in-between moments of my phone call full of thoughts of Michael. The things that he incites in me are crazy. I feel like a teen crushing on a pop star, and it’s a little scary just how much I’m thinking about him.

I know I shouldn’t dwell on it; I should just live in the moment and be open to whatever comes next. It’s hard not to hope, though—and it’s hard not to worry.

I would love to find a man to settle down with, but after my last attempt at love…

My stomach sours at the mere thought of Paul. Luckily, I’ve arrived at Flick’s condo. It’s time to have fun, enjoy the evening, and leave the past in the past where it belongs.

At least, that’s what I want to do. Sometimes, leaving what’s done is hard. Especially if it holds lessons that you can protect yourself with.

Turning into the parking lot, I find a spot in front of the walkway to Flick’s door. That’s a good thing about this condominium complex—there are only a small number of units, and you can usually park close. The outside always looks nice too, well-maintained with touches of the owners’ personalities on their small front porches. Unlike a lot of the homes around here. Several are in need of repair in some way—a fresh coat of paint, a fence replaced—though the overall feel of Pine Island is still charming.

I wonder what Michael’s house looks like. Since he’s a contractor, everything is probably new and spotless-looking. There are likely fresh boards on the porch, window screens with no holes, and his bedroom…

A delicious shiver runs through me. I don’t even know what his bedroom looks like, but I imagine a huge bed with a soft comforter, him sleeping in it shirtless, his hair sticking up from rolling around all night. The window cracked open, his boxers hanging loosely around his hips…

Flick’s front door opens, and I jump. “Oh!”

She frowns. “You okay? What is it?”

“Nothing, I, uh…” When did I knock on the door? Was I really that distracted? “I had kind of a weird afternoon.”

“Uh-oh. Did the class not go well?”

“No, that’s not it. The class was great.” I walk past her and hang my purse on one of the hooks by the door.

As we settle into her living room, I recount everything that happened from when I backed into Michael’s truck to when we parted ways at the auto shop.

“Destiny is bringing you two together!” She claps her hands in joy. “Let’s celebrate with my new tea.”

Bouncing off the couch, she goes to the kitchen. The familiar sounds of her filling a teakettle and getting mugs down drift back into the living room.

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