Do I stay, do I go? I’m a guardian now. There’s someone else relying on me. How do I navigate these waters?
Plus, there’s this incredible woman in front of me. She thinks we’re friends, and all I want is more. I can give her that, but she deserves someone who is here on a consistent basis. When she’s not around, I catch myself thinking about her, wondering what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about me, too. It’s like this magnetic pull that I can’t resist, this constant longing to talk to her, to be with her.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Georgie calls out, interrupting my thoughts as she wraps her hand around the door handle. “I say ten, Duncan, but I mean nine fifty-five. Where I come from, on time is late. And five minutes early is on time. Remember that, and we’ll get along just fine.”
She catches my attention and winks. “See you later?”
I smile and give her a nod. “You bet.”
She opens the door of Pages and Prose and disappears from our sight, my heart both full from seeing her and also deflated because she’s gone.
I don’t know if she feels the same way about me, but I can hope—and maybe this summer I’ll come clean about my feelings for her.
THREE
Georgie
The sun is barely even awake when I crawl out of bed in the morning. My feet hit the cold hardwood floor, and as much as I want to hop back into bed, I keep going. I only need the next twenty minutes for myself.
Stretching my arms overhead, I cast a glance to where my Rottweiler, Toto, lies on his giant memory foam dog bed. That was one purchase I splurged on, because he’s my baby, and it’s his favorite spot in the house. I sit and wait, wondering if he’ll show any signs of movement like he might be rising for the day, but no. My big baby boy is apparently sleeping in.
Turning, I shuffle out into the living room and grab my yoga mat from the corner where I’d flung it yesterday before running out the door. Flicking it open, I lay it down in front of my TV. I have a few yoga videos saved on YouTube, so I turn the television on and find them, hitting play so I can get down to business. But even my favorite morning flow can’t get the night before out of my head.
Duncan comes into my thoughts as I take a big breath in, letting it out of my mouth in awhoosh. Bending at the waist, I flatten my back and touch my toes, holding this position for amoment before rising up and reaching toward the sky. He’s such a young boy, too young to attempt shoplifting, yet he did. At my bookstore.
And a cookbook?My internal monologue is blaming this one for wanting attention. Unless he plans to be a chef one day—and who knows? He could be—I can’t see a ten-year-old stealing a cookbook for any other reason. He says it’s a gift, but is it really?
Shaking my head, I order myself to let it go as the instructor on the screen moves into a downward dog. This is my time to clear my head and get ready for the day ahead. Toto could wake up at any moment, and he’ll need a walk before I go to the shop.
Moving out of the downward dog into a front lunge, thankfully Duncan leaves my thoughts, but only for Levi to step in and take over. Poor guy. We texted and stayed in touch all during his regular playing season, but I’ve hardly seen him the last few months because he’s been busy with his post-season commitments for his team as well as the brands he represents, the farm, the podcast he does with his brother, and of course, all the prep for getting Duncan settled in.
Levi is a wide receiver and plays for the Carolina Cardinals, our NFL team from North Carolina and the Super Bowl champions this year. Even with everything going on around him, he’d focused hard on making this a good year for his career. All the while knowing that once the season was over, he’d be taking over as guardian of this tiny thief.
I’d spent many a night on the phone with him when he was out of town for away games attempting to calm him down. He never admitted he was nervous, but I know that Duncan’s grandmother makes him anxious. In the beginning, she appeared to be super kind and helpful. Because of the way things had happened so suddenly, an agreement was made so Levi could fulfill his workfor the season while she kept Duncan during that time. Levi would then move Duncan in with him during the off-season. This would give Levi time to do what he needed: get a room set up for Duncan, figure out school, all while playing for the Cardinals. He’s going to need a plan for next year, one that shows he’s around to help raise Duncan.
Changing sides, I take my left leg and put it in front of me into a lunge position and then rise up from my waist, reaching for the sky. All is quiet in my apartment, save the snoring dog hunkered down on his bed in the other room. So. Loud. I never knew a dog could snore with the impact of a freight train. Don’t get me started on the slobber. It’s so out of control, the dog shakes his head and you’re covered, but Toto is my man and my protector. He can slobber all he wants.
I wrap up my workout in the next few minutes, not bothering to lie in Shavasana this time. I know in yoga practice they say that’s the part you need to do because it’s when all of the good stuff you just did for your body lands where it needs to, but I’ve got a dog to walk.
I flick on my coffee maker and then grab Toto’s leash as I call out for him. It takes him a few moments, but soon he joins me in the kitchen, eyes sleepily squinting. Fastening his leash to his collar, I give him kisses on the tip top of his head while he grumbles a hello. It’s our way of saying good morning.
I’ve got this walk timed so my coffee will be fresh and hot and waiting for me when I get back inside. Glancing at my watch, I know we have time. It’s only a few minutes before seven. Smiling, I pat myself on the back. I’m glad I’d set my alarm early this morning.
I’ve barely made it onto Main Street when my phone rings. Unzipping the pocket of my running jacket, I pull it out, surprised to see Levi’s name flashing on the screen.
“And what do I owe this early morning pleasure to?” I say when I answer.
“I didn’t call too early, did I?” Levi’s drawl is my own version of Southern comfort. It’s one of the things I love most about being a transplant to these parts: the accent. Even when someone is telling you off, it sounds like a really sweet country song lyric.
“Why, no you didn’t,” I coo back in my best faux accent. I’m from the city, so of course I’m mesmerized. Probably always will be. “It’s never too early for Levi Porter to call.”
“Yet I think it is too early for you to try on that accent once again.” He chuckles in my ear. “How long have you lived here, and you still haven’t picked up even a trace of a Southern drawl?”
“I’ve been here for about four years now. And no, there’s no Southern drawl. I love the accent, but a girl has to stay true to her roots.”
“If you were doing that,” Levi presses, “then why don’t I hear your NewYawkeraccent any longer?”
“Because even my accent gets confused as to where I am and who I am,” I manage to say with a laugh as Toto pulls me into a small park off the street. “What do you want anyway?”
