"I waited to see the light come back into your eyes," my mother says softly, and she uses her thumb to brush away the tear from the corner of her eye. "And when you brought Jennifer home, I was over the moon. I thought my boy is back." My sisters groan out at the same time. "Shut up, you three." She glares at them. "I kept looking at you, hoping to see the same light in your eye that you had with Harlow. I kept waiting for you to laugh like you did with her. I kept waiting for you to be like this." She points at me. "The whole time you were with her, you never had that light. You were dull."
"Jeez, thanks," I say, laughing at her. "Nothing like your mother telling you you're dull to brighten your day."
She gets up. "The answers are right in front of you." She puts her hands on her hips. "You know what the answer is." I just look at her, not sure when she says what my head has been screaming at me to do. "If you want her, go to her."
Chapter 24
Harlow
"I’m so sorry, Harlow," Delores says from the phone and I close my eyes.
"It’s not your fault you fell and broke your leg." I shake my head and look up at the ceiling of my office. "You just focus on getting yourself better," I say. "Don’t worry about anything." I put the phone down.
"Why?" I want to bang my head on the desk. Donna comes into my office, and I look at her. "Is this a sign that we should just go our separate ways?" Delores was transferring over from the vet across town to join me and yesterday while on call she fell and broke her leg in three places.
"No." She shakes her head. "It’s almost as if the universe wants to see how much you will fight for each other." She shrugs.
"Well, I’d like to sit down with the universe and tell it to fuck off." I put my head back and I can feel the headache coming on.
"In other news, I’m out," she says, turning around. "I will see you in the morning."
I nod at her, not saying anything, and when the phone rings and I see it’s Travis, the burning in the pit of my stomach moves to my chest. I press the green connect button and see my face in the screen with the white circle going around and around. His face then fills the screen and the burning in my chest turns to a crushing pain. "Hi." I see his green eyes light up when he sees me and I miss him so much. I tried to put it into words the other day and I couldn’t. It’s this overwhelming need to be with him. The last two weeks have been hard, even though he flew down one day to surprise me, I then was called on an emergency and we spent a full three hours together. Then he had to leave and we haven’t been able to make our schedules sync. "Oh, no," he says, smiling sideways. "That look is not a good look."
I try to blink away the stupid tears that come. I’m a grown-ass woman and I’m going to cry because I can’t see my boyfriend. Who the fuck does that? Oh, I know, me. "I just got a call from Delores and she broke her leg." His eyes widen. "So she is out for a good month, if not six weeks."
"Great," he says, huffing out and putting his head back. "Not the news I was looking for today."
"I know," I say, frustrated with this whole fucking situation. I just want to be able to spend the weekend with him. Friday to Monday without counting down the hours. I want to be able to go out to dinner with him and then go home and just chill on the couch. I want to wake up with him in the morning and have breakfast. I want to do what normal couples do instead of holding our breath for our next visit. Or trying to get someone to take my place for a day so I can rush to him. I’m just fed up with the long distance and I’m frustrated that he was right all along. Which makes me pissed off and irritable. I tilt my head to the side. "I was not expecting her to say that when she called."
He takes a big deep breath and looks at me. "It’s fine," he tries to say, and I snap.
"It’s not fucking fine." I slap my hand on my mouth, the calm, cool, collected Harlow is gone. The one who was always trying to sugarcoat shit is gone. The last phone call was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I didn’t even have time to process it before he called and I’m not sure it would make a difference. "It’s not fucking fine!" I shout again. "Nothing about this is fine. Not one fucking thing." I throw up my hands. "I hate that I haven’t seen you in over a week. I hate that the last time I saw you I spent three hours with you. I hate that I haven’t been able to fall asleep beside you. I fucking hate it!” I shout and then finally take a breath.