Page 8 of Wood Lessons
CHAPTER FOUR
PETER
The beeping of themicrowave echoes in the kitchen, and I remove the heated dinner of turkey and mashed potatoes.Red and orange light spills onto the linoleum as the sun sets, marking another day ending with me alone in my cabin.
Sitting at the square top kitchen table, my eyes avoid the three empty chairs around me.It won’t always be like this.The refrain provides little comfort, though.
Every night is the same, and I wish Anna were here.We’ve texted since our kiss—conversations that brightened my day every time a message came through.And I could use some brightening right about now.
Tossing my fork on the empty plate, I sit back with a groan and play with the idea of calling her.Would it be too desperate?My foot taps a frenzied beat on the hardwood floor as I contemplate the decision.
Screw it.
Unlocking my phone, I scroll to Anna’s number before hitting the call button.Food churns in my stomach at the dull ringing as I wait for her to answer like a schoolboy after sending his crush a valentine.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Peter.Sorry to bother you; I just thought it’d be nice to talk,” I say stupidly, my lack of a plan obvious.“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Nothing but my Netflix binging; this is probably a better use of my time.”A short laugh muffles over the line, and my jaw unclenches at the welcome sound.
This was the right choice.
“So, how did your pitch go?”
“I’m amazed you remember...”Bewilderment laces her tone.
Baby, I remember everything you say.
“It went well, I think.They thanked me for my time but didn’t say much else.Honestly, I was relieved to get it over with; I was a sweaty, nervous wreck.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.I saw the design; you did a great job.”She’d sent me a couple pictures of the website she’d created for a new client at her company the other day.From what I could tell, the minimalistic design fit the brief she’d described perfectly.
“I appreciate the boost of confidence, but we don’t know what the other pitches looked like.There are a lot of talented people at the firm.I’m still relatively inexperienced.”A crackling rattles in my ear like she’s opening a package, and I picture her making dinner in the galley kitchen she’d described in an earlier conversation.
“Don’t sell yourself short, babe.”Walking to the living room, I relax into the couch, prepared for an evening of talking with my girl—the loneliness I’d been feeling melting away.
***
SATURDAY DAWNS COOLand cloudy.Anna’s rescheduled lesson is today, and I can't wait to see her.I considered asking if she wanted to meet beforehand for a date but figured it might be safer sticking to the plan.Not to mention, the off-chance of her rejection scares me.
Rolling out of bed, I take a quick shower and grab a protein bar for breakfast before heading outside.Everything’s ready for her visit after I spent the night organizing the shop.
The familiar task reminded me of her last visit—rife with hiccups.Hopefully, we can avoid any mishaps this time around.Though, I wouldn't mind kissing her again.
Numerous unfinished projects line the shelves in my garage.Choosing one of my hobby projects, I kill time by working on the small birdhouse.The trees out back are full of these, swarms of birds calling them home—something I imagine Anna loving considering her episode with the ducks.
Pop music drifts in the air along with the hum of an engine.Setting the piece back on the shelf, I wipe my hands on a rag before going to welcome Anna with an impromptu hug.She stiffens at the contact, and I worry that I’ve misinterpreted our exchanges.
“Hey!”She finally returns the gesture, wrapping her arms around my waist.
Relax, man.Don’t overthink everything.
