Linnea carried her bowl and mug to the sink and began filling it with soapy water. She looked out the window to see a cherry-red cardinal at the bird feeder, his gray mate waiting her turn. She startled when she saw John walking down the stairs from his loft carrying two suitcases.
He couldn’t be leaving! She felt her heart lurch and turned off the faucet. With dripping hands she ran out the back door, ignoring Cooper calling, “What’s the matter?”
“John!” she called, hurrying down the stairs, across the gravel driveway. “John!”
He heard her and stopped at the fence gate. “What’s the matter?”
She came to a halt before him, breath heaving. “Are you leaving?”
He looked confused, then, looking down, saw the suitcases. He set them down and shook his head. “No, no. I’m leaving the loft, but I’m moving into the main house. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh,” she said. Then again, “Oh, okay.” It surprised her how devastated she’d felt thinking he was walking out of her life. Again.
“Did you think I was… leaving leaving?”
“Well, yes. I mean, you only came for a visit. Your quarantine is over. And”—she pointed to the suitcases—“it seemed obvious.”
He smiled a crooked smile. “And you wanted to stop me?”
She held back her grin. “I wanted to say good-bye.”
“Ah, okay. Well, sorry. I’m sticking around.”
“You’ve decided, then. You’re not going back to California?”
“Not for a while. My mother hasn’t asked me for much, so I couldn’t refuse. Besides, I can do my job anywhere. But I’m moving into the house to be closer to Flo if they should need me.”
“Oh.” The loft was empty. An idea began percolating in Linnea’s mind. A lifeline! And she was going for it.
“What’s your mother going to do with the loft?”
“I don’t know. Rent it? It’s a seller’s market out there. Why? Do you know someone interested? Trying to get rid of the Covid Couple?”
Linnea smirked at the nickname for Anna and Cooper. She shook her head, then pressed her folded hands to her lips. “John, I have an enormous favor to ask you. And I mean big. I’ll owe you.”
“That sounds interesting. What?”
She took a breath. “Well… Gordon is flying in from England.”
John’s face suddenly grew wary. “Uh-huh.”
“He’s looked everywhere. I’ve looked everywhere. There isn’t anyplace nearby he can rent. So, I was wondering—”
“Oh, no.” His brows knitted and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “No way.”
“John, it would only be for two weeks while he quarantines. He has nowhere else to go.”
“Two weeks? Then what?”
“He’ll move into my house. Unless…,” she paused. “He could stay in your loft.”
“Your place? There’s no room in your house.”
“I’ve been trying to figure it out,” she said with frustration.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me this. You want your boyfriend to stay at my house?” He laughed shortly. “I know the world has gone mad, but this is bat-shit crazy.”
“John, please. I’m asking you as a friend.”
“As a friend. Right. I’m in the friend zone. Got it.”
She swallowed and straightened her spine. “I thought we were clear on this. I told you I was seeing someone else.”
“I thought…”
“You thought what?” She held her breath in the sudden silence.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Never mind.”
There it was, she thought. More proof that John wouldn’t, couldn’t commit. Her path seemed clear.
“It’s simple. Gordon is coming from England to work for the summer, and to see me. He needs a place to rent. Can he rent your loft?”
There was a long silence as John and Linnea stared at each other. She saw the struggle in his eyes. The unspoken words.
“So,” John said, “what you’re saying is I get to choose between Gordon living with you, or Gordon living in my loft. Sweet.”
Linnea put both hands on her head. “I know this is awkward.”
“You think?”
“Okay, very awkward,” she amended. “I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other ideas.”
“Here’s an idea. How about he can stay at my place and I move in with you?”
She offered a wry smile. “Nice try. Please, John. Pretty please.”
“Okay, fine. What are friends for?” he asked, scowling. Then he bent to pick up the suitcases. The look he gave her told her that she owed him. Big-time. “But he’s paying rent.” He turned and started walking away. Over his shoulder he shouted, “And it won’t be cheap.”
* * *
GRAVEL CRUNCHED AS the hired car pulled into Emmi’s driveway. Linnea stood on her driveway, separated by a line of narrow shrubs. She clutched her hands tight as the rear car door opened and she saw Gordon slide out. He was wearing a charcoal-gray suit and carrying a trench coat over his arm, all of which looked wrinkled. Even his hair was longer and disheveled.
“Gordon!” she called out.
He turned quickly, and though she couldn’t see his face behind his mask, his eyes crinkled. He raised his arm in greeting. “Linnea! I made it!”
The distance was killing her. He was so close, just across the driveway, not across some ocean. She fought the urge to run to him and feel his arms around her. Seeing him—in the flesh and not on some screen—made him real again. She was glad of the emotions that were bubbling up.
“It’s so hard not to come over,” she called out.
“I know. But it’s wonderful to see you.”
The driver approached, carrying two large suitcases. After the business was transacted, Gordon looked over to her again, his arms at his sides. Even from a distance she could feel his yearning to walk to her side.
“I’ve filled the fridge with beer and wine and cheese,” she called out. “There’s fruit, and some snacks. I’ll bring dinner over on a tray.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I want to.”
“Probably best you don’t. I wouldn’t want you to get sick on my account. Not after all this waiting. I’ll be fine with deliveries. The time will go fast. The hardest part will be knowing you’re next door.”
“Two weeks.”
“Ten days, if current research holds true.”
“All the better.”
“I could stand at the window. Send you paper airplanes.”
She wagged her finger at him. “Don’t.”
“Then it’s back to FaceTime.”
“And waves and blown kisses.”
“We’ll be Romeo and Juliet.”
“Do you remember how that ended?”
He laughed. “I’m glad I’m here.”
She felt suddenly teary. “I’m glad you’re here too,” she said, and meant it.