Page 110 of Grown-Up Second Chance

Great. I’d embarrassed us. I got up from the table and fled down a nearby path.

My sisters had the good sense to leave me alone.

It took a while, but my steps slowed. A rustling in some nearby bushes reminded me I was not alone.

Oh well, if a bear wanted to eat me, it was the perfect ending to my life.

I leaned against a tree.

After learning of Larry’s betrayal, I’d made it a point not to get too close to anyone, male or female. But my sisters were wise to me. They’d known me too long.

And they were right.

Like he’d been decades ago, Joe could be the right man for me. The only way to find out would be to take the risk and let him know how I felt.

But where would I find the courage to bare my heart?

Chapter Thirty-One

Even though the sun was shining when I woke the next morning, the world felt gray. I was stuck. There didn’t seem to be a good path forward. I wished Joe had never shown up. Then I could have concentrated on the trip in front of me.

I should do that anyway.

I pushed off the sheet that was crumpled and damp from my wretched night’s sleep. My dreams were a mixture of past scenes of my life with Larry and memories of walks with Joe, with intervals that seemed to come from a consciousness well beyond any I knew. Spiders turned into beautiful women; evil men turned into snakes, but I flew above it all with my huge wings. I was supposed to be going somewhere, but I’d forgotten where that was.

Swinging my legs to the floor, I headed to the bathroom, but one of my sisters had beat me to it. I stood at the sink and washed my face, then cursed myself for running water when I had to pee.

Kathleen staggered out of the toilet room a few moments later and crossed to the sink mumbling, “Morning.”

“Yep,” I said and scurried to the room she’d left.

Much relieved, I plodded to the kitchen area for my coffee, which was already brewed. Kathleen and I sat scrolling through our phones, our silence interrupted by a chuckle now and then, or the muttering of “idiot,” when reading about some bone-headed antic or statement by a politician.

“We need to get ready to move tomorrow,” Kathleen said when she was able to string several words together.

“Can you still access the app I sent you?” I asked.

“The list thingamajig?”

“Yes, that one.” We’d made a list of things to do before leaving the RV park, at least as many as we could figure out. “We’ll need to add everything we’ve forgotten.”

“It’s going to come in handy,” Kathleen admitted. “There are too many little things that are easy to forget.”

That gave me an idea.

Later, after we’d breakfasted and gotten ready for the day, we started on the chores. Liz made a last run to the store, Kathleen assembled the things she’d need to do a final dump and put the hoses away, and I—somewhat graciously—agreed to do a last load of combined laundry.

There’s nothing like watching clothes go around and around in a washer to get your mind to go into all the places you’ve been avoiding.

I’d been so sure watching Joe drive off into the sunrise was the right thing to do for both of us, but the ache in my heart wouldn’t go away. I hadn’t heard from him, but he’d told me it was up to me to contact him.

Grabbing an out-of-date flyer from the community bulletin board, I drew a line vertically down the back. One side I titled pros. The other side was cons.

Pros

Joe is a nice guy.

He had a successful marriage.

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