Dawn did not hear from Scott again until Friday night, before he went to work. He called to ask what time she was leaving the next day, and told her he was working a double and wouldn't be in touch until Sunday.
"Thanks for calling, Scott," she said as he rang off. She had known him a week and a half, but it somehow felt longer. She knew that his interest in her had not abated, and she admitted that she was much more interested in him than she wanted to be. It didn't stop her from wondering what he was doing, though, as she loaded her car with her neighbor Dana's help next morning. She remembered how he had helped her pack up her office, how he had sniped at her for keeping the moldy books, how he had kissed her lips.
"Are you feeling all right, Dawn?" Dana asked.
Dawn blinked at her. "What? Yes, I'm feeling fine! Why?"
"You're looking very flushed! I know you hate the AC, but maybe you should turn it on a bit!"
Dawn let her friend turn the air conditioner on low, and turned on the radio to distract herself from thoughts of Scott. By the time they arrived at her new home, she was already unpacking in her head, and the rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity. By the time she fell in to bed in her new home, she was exhausted. Her arm throbbed a bit, and she suddenly recalled the day he had come to check on her and found she had not taken her meds. She got out of bed to swallow two painkillers and then sank back under the thin sheet, praying she could relax enough to sleep.
When she woke up on Sunday morning, the room was bright with morning light, and she ached in every muscle. Her arm felt much better, but she knew it would stiffen up if she didn't get out of bed soon. She was loath to leave the soft comfort, though, and sighed, wishing she had someone to lie in bed with on a Sunday morning, just because. Unbidden, Scott's kiss came to mind, and the way he made her feel. She was flattered by his attention at the same time that it frightened her. Men like him, successful, handsome, sexy men, didn't pursue middle-aged women with love handles and double chins. It must be some kind of cosmic joke, and she needed to remember that before she got carried away.
The mood was broken by her sober thoughts, and she climbed out of bed and went to take a shower to work the kinks out before continuing the task of unpacking. As she washed her hair, being careful not to overstress her injured arm, she thought of the many times she had moved, and how lonely the moving had been once Hunter had died. Even after their divorce, he had been her best friend, once the anger and hurt had subsided. His death was a blow she was still reeling from. They should never have married, she realized, with the perspicacity of hindsight, but she didn't know where she would have been now if it hadn't been for him.
Dressing in a loose summer dress, she went to make herself a PB and J sandwich for breakfast, and as she brewed coffee, she wolfed it down while standing at the counter trying to decide what to do first. The kitchen was airy and large, the two ovens still making her smile. The large cooktop with the grill to the side of the four large burners sat in the center island, to one side of the counter, with the sink on the other. She loved her new kitchen. In another life, she might have been a chef!
The sandwich done, she stood still for a moment more, sipping her coffee, and suddenly recalled that Scott said he would call. She had a new home number which he did not know, and he didn't have her cell phone number. So unless she called him, they wouldn't speak today, either. In fact, they wouldn't speak again, ever. She wrestled with the need to hear his voice, and the need to remain aloof, and took her coffee with her into the office. She'd unpack in there first, so she could write. Her writing soothed her, and she needed it.
By the time she had set up her laptop and printer, and was starting on the first shelf of books, she knew she would call him. It was silly to keep pretending a lack of interest when she couldn't budge him from her thoughts, so she might as well learn what it was like to have him as a friend. Her decision made, she emptied one box and then sat in the office chair and reached for the phone. She had put his cell phone number in her Rolodex, and she flipped through it till she got to his name. The phone rang without an answer, and she swallowed the taste of disappointment. Why she had thought he would be there when she needed him to be she didn't understand. She hung up after leaving her name and number, and worked disconsolately for another couple of hours, before finding the one-handed method of unpacking and stacking bookshelves more than she could bear any longer.
Feeling inexplicably sorry for herself, she went to see what she had brought to stock the fridge till she could shop for groceries. She had bottled water, bread, eggs, and a six-pack of yogurt in there. Dana had made her a casserole, and Jeff had fed her sweet tooth and her chocolate addiction with some chocolate ice cream. She reached for the ice cream, and grabbing a spoon, went to sit in the sunny spot on the back porch. The steps were warm, and she enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face. She thought she heard the phone ring, but couldn't be sure, and she rather preferred to stay where she was, soaking in the sun and the chocolate.
Back inside, feeling somewhat comforted, she went back to unpacking her office when the phone rang again. She put it in speaker mode and answered absently, thinking it might be Dana calling to check up on her.
"Hello." She stifled a yawn, and apologized. "Sorry...I'm a bit fagged."
"Did you get enough sleep last night?" Scott's voice was like a sharp nudge in her ribs, and she almost dropped the book she had been holding.
"Yes, I did," she said, and refused to say more.
"Doesn't sound like it," he commented on a chuckle. "Thanks for the number. I didn't realize, till I was at work, that I didn't have your new one."
"You're welcome."
"So, how is everything? All moved in?"
"Yes, thanks, and I've started unpacking."
"Need some help?" The question was innocent enough, and it was certainly one he had asked before, but still Dawn hesitated.
"If you meant what you said last time, why is it so hard to answer me now?" he wondered in a most reasonable tone.
"It's not hard," she said defensively, "but I assume you're tired after pulling a double."
