Page 77 of All In
“Why not? It would be nice to hear from her again,” I retort. That’s all this is. Keeping in touch with an old friend. Reconnecting after six years. No big deal.
“Yeah, right. As if that’s the only thing you’re after.”
I let that accusation hang in the air for a moment“How did she look?” I inquire, raising my eyebrow in curiosity. Ricky has always thought Maria was hot.
He gives me a huge dose of side eye, then he smiles. “She looked good. Really, really good.” In Ricky-speak, that means she looked hot.Why? Why does she have to look good?Thoughts of Maria as a hot mom are dancing in my head, and it’s causing some intense reactions inside of me. He continues. “You know, she askedmeif I was seeing anyone.”
My head jerks in his direction, and my heart bottoms out. Why would she askhimif he’s seeing anyone? “Did she ask if I was single?”
“Nope.” His grin is maniacal.
I know Ricky. He’s instigating me. He is well aware that this will get under my skin. My body is rigid now because, I mean, Ricky is a good-looking guy. He has no problem finding dates every weekend. Maria is single and so is he. Maybe she saw him and realized she was interested. I shift in my seat at the thought.
“Look at you.” He grins in amusement.
“What?” I ask between gritted teeth.
“If contacting Maria is only friendly, as you claim, why does it bother you so much that she asked me if I was single? Which, by the way, relax, dude. I would never do that to you.” My shoulders sag in relief. “But seriously, she said that shejustgot divorced. Which tells me it’s fresh. Who knows where her head isat? Don’t contact her and confuse her. I know you care, but it’s not the right time, and you know it.”
He’s right. I’m making this about me. If Maria left Nate, or if he left her, she needs to take the time to put herself first. Heck, that’s the advice I gave her in my last email to her.
“You’re right.”
“Always.”
We watch Mikey run towards us. “Besides, I just moved home myself. I need to get settled and make sure Mikey is adjusting.” Ricky only nods in understanding.
As Mikey heaves his bag into the back seat and jumps into the Jeep, our seeing-Maria-again conversation ends. Ricky and I listen as he raves on and on about how great practice was. I’m trying to pay attention, but my mind travels back to Maria.
How will I know when it’s the right time to reach out to her? Will there be any visible sign or signal?
Would it be a good idea to get in touch with her?
I rest my head on the back of my seat.
All this uncertainty sucks.
And to make it worse, I realize how much I miss her.
Chapter thirty
November 2016
Sam
The morning breeze blowing into my car feels amazing as I sit here waiting to go to work. Despite the change of season from fall to winter, the refreshing coolness of the air is a welcome addition as it seeps into the car. If nothing else, it’s definitely jolting me awake. I received a text from my office manager telling me that my seven a.m. patient canceled last minute, so I have some time to kill before I start this Monday morning. And by time to kill, you would think I should be preparing for my next patient or reading a book. Something else more productive. Instead, I’m sitting here in the parking lot, scrolling through Instagram.
Somehow, my eleven-year-old convinced me I need to be cool and join the social media app. I’m a forty-two-year-old man. Why in the heck do I need to be on social media? I refused for the longest time until I relented. Now I find myself looking at nothing and yet everything at the same time, scrolling along. A post about laying ceramic tile piques my interest. Something I’ve never done in my life. But this guy makes it look easy.
Hmmm. That’s a cool way to install…
Female laughter rings out catching my attention. I glance up to see a group of women walking toward the employee entrance of the office that sits next to thewing of the hospital where I work. It’s a physical therapy slash gym that opened about a month ago.
This same group of women always walks in together every morning. Carrying their coffee and all of their belongings they think they need for a day of work. I mean, seriously, why do women carry so much stuff with them?
I shake my head as I scroll through Instagram once again. Out of nowhere, a distinct voice grabs my attention.
“Hey, Richelle, you dropped your badge.” My head whips up because I’d know that voice anywhere. Then I see her.
