Page 114 of From Nowhere

Less than two hours later, I’m moved into my three-bedroom house with a weathered front porch and weed-infested yard. But who cares? I bought it for the tree house in the backyard.

“You have nothing,” Jamie says before laughing at my empty main floor.

“I have beautiful hardwood floors.” I narrow my eyes at the heavily scratched and moderately faded oak planks. “I have hardwood floors that can potentially be beautiful.”

Jamie laughs. “I think you should hold off buying furniture until you do some renovating. Like, maybe just get one thing. Maybe a sofa. Then you’ll have less to move and clean when it’s all done.”

“You’re probably right.” I wipe my hand along the worn laminate kitchen counter. “I guess that leaves more time for lunch.”

“My treat,” Jamie says. “And we can text the testosterone machines and let them know we did everything already.”

I nod slowly. It’s not a fancy house. I havea lotof work to do, but it’s mine. And it takes only a second to imagine it filled with a life.

A handsome mechanic.

A young, curly-haired girl.

And a cat.

After lunch, I fall in love with a cerulean blue velvet sofa on clearance. So we muscle it into the back of Fitz’s truck and head home.

“It’s perfect,” Jamie says when we plop onto it and stare at the brick hearth.

“I own a home,” I whisper at the tail end of a long sigh.

“And a tree house.”

I giggle. “Speaking of my cat’s house, I must get him.” I glance at my watch and text Ozzy.

Maren: Is it okay if I pick up my cat now?

“Is Ozzy the one?” Jamie asks.

I stare at my phone while waiting for Ozzy to reply. “In theory, yes.”

“In reality?”

I read Ozzy’s message.

Ozzy: Sure. I’ll call and have Lola watch for you so you don’t have to go inside.

“In reality, I feel like I have to make myself small to fit into his world. And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll kill you.” I toss my phone onto the cushion between us and adjust my ponytail.

“That’s sad, Maren.”

“I know.” I shrug a shoulder. “It feels like bad timing, but how many things in life happen at the perfect time, or what we perceive to be the perfect time? Do you think you met Fitz at the perfect time?”

“Yes.” She twists her lips. “No. I don’t know. I get what you’re saying. It’s a good time for you but not for Ozzy. But in a few years, if Lola gets better and the timing is right for Ozzy, you could be with someone else.”

“Exactly.” I wrinkle my nose. “And I feel like I need to beallin or get out. I need to completely walk away because I don’t want to be another source of pain or loss in Lola’s life by thinking I can hold out until she’s better and their lives are somewhat normal again, only to have that never happen.”

“So play this game with me,” Jamie says. “Let’s say she never gets into a car again, and therefore, neither does Ozzy. Missoula is the boundary of their world forever. Can you be part of thatsmallworld?”

I rub my hands over my face and mumble, “I don’t know. Does that make me an awful person?”

“Of course not.”

“But if I love him—”

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