Her phone sang its happy song from the crisp white countertop in front of her. She sat on a high wooden barstool, still in her lounge pants and a half t-shirt. When she saw his name on the display, a smile touched her delicate lips.
She picked up the phone and hooked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, swiped and held the phone to her head.
“Hi,” she said, and couldn’t keep the warmth out of her voice. Continue reading “I’ll Call When I Get There”