Page 109 of All I Need

“Well, enjoy… that.” I get up from the table and rinse my coffee mug out before putting it in the dishwasher.

“I’ll be here tomorrow night,” I tell her.

“Don’t make promises Walker won’t let you keep.”

“He’s not the boss of me.”

“Oh I bet you like it when he bosses you, though.”

“Oh my gosh! Would you stop?”

I cover my ears but still can hear her cackling as I race up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom.

I shoot off a quick text to Walker.

Me: You could have warned me that Miss Polly is off her rocker.

Walker: Oh no. What’d she say?

Me: What didn’t she say? I’m scarred for life.

Walker: She mention Bert?

Me: Yes. Among other things.

Walker: **sends eek face emoji**

Me: **sends throwing up emoji**

Walker: LOLOL

I fill my bag with some new clothes, and a few other items. I hadn’t brought Fred with me when he asked yesterday. I got a stern talking to about not following directions and as much fun as that was, I think this will be even more so.

I cover it with the hoodie I packed. The evenings are getting a little colder, hoping that maybe we can go for an evening walk with Brutus tonight, and head to the bathroom to grab a few more toiletries that I had forgotten in my haste to pack yesterday.

I open up the drawer I keep my hair straightener in and grab it, wrapping the cord around the wand. I’ve just gotten it wrapped up when something catches my eye on the counter.

My breath catches, wondering where in the world the object could have come from.

I place the straightener down on the counter and look around, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.

With unsteady hands, I reach for the watch then yank my hand back, as if it’s about to strike me. I flee from the bathroom, throw my straightener in my bag and sit on the bed, tucking my knees against my chest as I rock back and forth.

I turn my head, glaring at the bathroom across the hall.

“It can’t be his watch,” I tell myself.

Sucking in a breath, I stand up, smoothing my shirt down. My palms are sweating and hands are shaking but I know I have to go check it out. See if I was just losing my mind, which seems like a far superior alternative than what I fear is the truth.

I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at the watch still sitting on the counter.

With slow steps, I make my way to the counter and lift the watch, blowing out a breath before I turn it over.

Tears cloud my vision as I read the inscription:

To Michael

You healed time’s wounds

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