When I get to St. Peter’s Church, I park my car in an empty spot, grab my phone, and pull up Sol’s name on my contacts.
Me: Are you awake?
I stare at the screen, waiting. Waiting. My mind is running on Red Bull and conversations; the one between Sol and me earlier this evening, then MJ and me, then Levi. After minutes pass with no sign of a reply, I type again.
Me: I’m here. In Portland.
Then it hits me. What the hell am I doing here? It’s already after midnight. Sol is already sleeping. Once again, I’m letting my recklessness and emotions rule me.
I set the phone in the cup holder and restart the car, then back out of the parking spot. I need to regroup and think about what to say.
When I walk into the apartment, it’s dark save for the light seeping below the door to my mom’s room. I put the keys in the bowl, then shrug off my coat and hang it on the hook. Hitching my bag higher on my shoulder, I tiptoe toward my room, cringing when the floorboards creak. Just as I push my door inward, the one across from mine opens. Light floods into the hallway, then Mom stumbles out, laughing. Buck naked. Christopher follows right behind her and swats her behind and oh my God!
“Mom!” I shriek. “What the hell?”
The couple whirls around, and everything swings with them—eyes wide, deer-in-the-headlights pose. “Grace! Oh my God! What are you doing home?” Mom screeches, and Christopher scrambles to cover her with his body, which leaves me staring at his backside.
Belatedly, I cover my eyes, horrified. Feet shuffle on the floor, followed by muttering and crinkling of what I believe is clothing. “Do you guys just run around naked when I’m not home?”
I hear Christopher let out an embarrassed laugh. “Kinda, yeah. I mean, it’s just the two of us, and—”
“Shut up, Chris,” Mom whispers furiously. To me, she says, “The coast is clear. You can open your eyes now.”
I peek through my fingers. Mom’s petite body is draped in a pink towel, and Christopher’s wearing my mother’s peach bathrobe, which hardly hits mid-thigh. He scratches the back of his head, a red flush coloring his cheeks as he waves at me.
“Hey. Sorry for, um, the visuals.”
I rub my eyes as if it will help wipe out what I just saw. “Where’s a time machine when I need one?”
Christopher chuckles and heads for the kitchen, asking over his shoulder, “You hungry? I was about to make some sandwiches when you walked in.”
I shake my head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”
“Weren’t you coming tomorrow? I mean, later today.” Mom asks, pulling me into a hug.
“I changed my mind.”
She draws back and props her hands on her hips. “Wait. You drove? At this hour?” Her voice hitches a decibel.
I groan. “I’m an excellent driver.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. There are irresponsible drivers at night, and I can’t . . .” She slaps a hand over her forehead. “Nope. I won’t think about it. I’m glad you got home safely.”
Just then, my phone buzzes. I pull it out and retrieve my messages.
Sol: Hey, Gracie. Just saw your message. What’s up?
I bite my cheek to stop the smile from spreading across my face. One word from him makes me feel like I’m on a high. It never gets old.
“Is that Sol?” Mom asks, craning her neck to see the screen.
I nod, angling my phone away. “I’m gonna go to bed. Night!” I scuttle into my room just as my mother asks, “Are you two—?”
“No, we’re not. Love you. Night, Chris!” I yell before shutting the door, heart racing.
Me: I’m in Portland. We need to talk.
Sol: Now?
Me: Later today? Mom and I are driving to Boston to sort out some wedding stuff. Talk after?
All of a sudden, the phone starts ringing, shattering the silence. I’m so startled by the sound, I almost drop it. Quickly, I tap the green button to answer the call.
“Am I in trouble? I feel like I’m in trouble,” Sol says in a groggy voice. How does he still manage to sound so sexy even when he sounds like he’s about to fall asleep?
“Nope. We’re good. I just want to talk and, um, catch up.”
He’s quiet for several seconds, then sighs. “No hint?”
I laugh. “Goodnight, Solomon Callan. I’ll see you later.”
“Night, Gracie.”
I listen until he hangs up, then do the same. After changing into my sleep shorts and shirt, my phone buzzes before I climb in bed.
Sol: We’re still friends, right?
Me: Still friends, as long as you want me.
Sol: Okay.
Me: Okay.
By the time my mother, Beverly and I drive back to Portland from Boston the following day, it’s almost five o’clock in the evening. The trip lasted longer than I expected. Mom has been talking animatedly from the second we left Boston. She can’t stop talking about the wedding dress. Couldn’t stop smiling as she tried on dress after dress until she found the right one. And spending six hours cake tasting and window shopping was so worth it.
As we pull up in front of the diner, I retrieve my phone from my purse and tap on the last text from Sol.
Me: Just got in from Boston. If it’s too late, we can talk tomorrow.
My phone starts ringing. Sol.
I smile and look up to find Mom and Beverly watching me with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while.” Mom takes my free hand and squeezes it.
I smile, but I can’t tell her this is the happiest I’ve been in a while. Not until Sol and I talk. Opening the door, I climb out of the car, then answer the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Outside the diner.”
“Hold on a sec,” he says. His voice is muffled as if he’s holding a hand over the speaker. “Don’t leave. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
We? “Who are you with?” I ask, but the only sound that meets my ear is tires squealing, then the line goes dead.
I glance over my shoulder and see my mother and Beverly heading toward the front door of the diner.
Exactly five minutes later, a black Toyota pulls up into a parking spot a few feet from me. The driver’s window inches down, and Seth pokes his head out.
“Take him, please.” He jerks his thumb to the passenger seat where Sol is lounging. “I haven’t been home in hours. My mom thinks I’ve been kidnapped.”
“Why would she think that?” I ask with a laugh.
“He doesn’t want me to take him home. Says he’s waiting for you.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ve been circling your house and the diner for almost four hours. Christ. Please take him off my hands before I throw him out of the car.”
Sol rolls his eyes. “Stop exaggerating, kid.”
Seth scowls at Sol, then opens the car door, climbs out, and heads to the back of the car. He returns with Sol’s crutches and opens the passenger door. I follow him closely.
“I got this,” he says, sending me a wink, then schools his expression into a scowl. “Let’s go, Romeo.”
I bite back a grin.
After making sure Sol is standing on his own, Seth gives us a two-finger salute. “Have fun, kids.” He climbs back into the car and backs out of the parking spot. “It’s obvious you two are still into each other. Whatever is holding you back, you need to work through it.”