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Even in the dark, I can’t stop thinking of her. I can’t stop thinking of what I need to do. Before I’d unpacked my clothes, I’d taken the bouquet of sunflowers out of my suitcase. They rode with me from the shop in Dover.

I take them off the counter and step into the garage again.

It’s time.

Chapter 7

Drew

My plate of noodles sits half-eaten on the bar in the kitchen.

Dad’s is untouched. He never came down, and when I went up to knock and check on him, I heard him snoring.

A glass of wine sits on the counter in front of me, and I sip it when my phone buzzes.

Ruby’s silly smile appears on the screen, and I scoop it up. “Awfully early for you to be calling it a night.”

“Scratch Timber off the list.” I hear the slamming of cabinets in the background and the squeak of a cork. “He wanted me to call him Falstaff.”

“Because he’s a fat alcoholic?”

“He says he’s funny and a bad influence.” The noise of sloshing fills my ear. “Cheers.”

I hold up my glass. “Good timing. I finally opened that Pinot we bought in Napa.”

“God, that was so long ago. Can we do that again? Now?”

“I think we have to give our patients two week’s notice or something.”

“Your patients,” she grumbles.

“Hang in there. You’ll build your practice.”

“If I don’t starve first.”

“You live with your mother.”

“Exactly.”

I take the goblet over to the window seat and lean against the wall, looking out. “So Falstaff was a bust? I have to say, his reasoning doesn’t sound too bad.”

“He drank two whiskey doubles then started grabbing my ass every time he’d tell a joke.” She sips loudly in my ear. “He was sweaty.”

“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose. “How did you leave him?”

“I told him I had to go to the bathroom.”

“You sneaked out the window?”

“Walked out the front door.” A ping sounds softly. “Look, he’s texting me now.”

“Need me to let you go?”

“I’ll answer him on my laptop.”

Clicking sounds fill the space. “Are you telling him he’s a sweaty grabber?”

“He’s asking where I went. He thought I went to the bathroom.”