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date him.”
    “ No. But he knows, Momma. He has to.”
    “ Don’t be so sure. Men aren’t always the sharpest tools in the shed.”
    “ Well, what do you expect me to do? Just ask him out? I need to keep at least some of my dignity.”
    “ Oh, don’t be so proud,” she said, scolding me. “You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”
    I giggled. “Mom, I’m 22. Chill out.”
    “ And I’d already had one baby by then! Where is my grandbaby, huh? Lucas and Marlowe sure aren’t giving me one. All of my friends have grandbabies…”
    She honestly looked sad and I threw my head back with a loud laugh. “Calm down. You’ll get a grandbaby sooner or later. Besides, you literally know nothing about him.”
    She peered around his living room. “He’s neat,” she said. “He has a nice home and a good job.” She pointed to a picture of him and an older gentleman resting on an end table. “He’s handsome. You like him and you have excellent taste. That’s all I need to know.”
    The cushions were finished and even though it wasn’t perfect, they’d last a while longer. Smiling, I was putting them back on the couch when my phone rang. I practically leapt through the living room to catch it on the counter. “Shh,” I said to my mother, putting it to my ear. “Hey,” I said and made my way towards the stairs, wanting some privacy.
    Ferdinand was on Paul’s bed, and I joined him as I let Paul’s voice fill my ear. “How’s he doing?” he asked.
    “ Oh, he’s great,” I said. “We went to the park earlier. He jumped in some puddles, had a bath, and now he’s relaxing on your bed.
    “ You’re spoiling him.”
    “ Well, he’s a good boy,” I said in my puppy voice. “He deserves to be spoiled.”
    Paul chuckled. “Glad you two are getting along so well.”
    Silence then—both of us thinking of what to say. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe I should tell him how I felt and stop waiting around for him. He obviously wasn’t going to make the first move.
    “ You know…” he said, breaking my thoughts. “I was thinking about you…earlier today. And I–I realized that I don’t know much about you. And, well, I want to. Like, I don’t know, what do you for fun? Or hobbies or…uh…whatever.”
    I sprawled out on his bed, grinning into the phone. “I mostly paint,” I said.
    “ I know that,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you still trying to sell pieces?”
    “ Trying is the appropriate word. Not much luck yet.”
    “ You just haven’t found the right audience. Your work is really good,” he said.
    “ You can see more of it…if you like. Maybe when you get back we can, I don’t know, get together or something?”
    “ We, uh, we…” He chuckled and the sound settled underneath my skin. Was he nervous or uncomfortable? A woman’s voice bled through the background. She was telling him something. “Hang on, Mia,” he said. Sounding distant and muffled, I deciphered the words, “I’ll be right there.” A soft laugh. A teasing murmur.
    “ I gotta go,” he said. “Talk to you later.”
    Before I could even say goodbye, he hung up and I frowned. My mother was standing in the doorway. She sighed and walked away.

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    IT WASN'T UNTIL SATURDAY, the day Paul returned home, that I took a peek into his private life. It felt shameful to rummage through someone’s private possessions, but hearing that woman speak to him and the familiar way he’d responded made me question my feelings. Maybe he was already seeing someone. Maybe she was in Florida and that was why he wanted to move.
    Letting my insecurities get the better of me, I gave in. At first, it was only a quick look in the top drawer of his desk.
    Nothing.
    I was closing it, realizing this was ludicrous, when the corner of a picture caught my eye. Curiosity winning out, I pulled it from its hiding place and saw Paul standing with a pretty woman. She was tall. Thin. Her hair was wrapped in a flawless up-do. They