Page 22 of Sycamore Circle

The second message was more to the point.

Any chance I could see you in person this weekend? I could meet you somewhere. Even buy you another mocha latte?

The third text made her smile.

So, I wrote you about an hour ago. You okay? Or do you want me to leave you alone?

Pleased he remembered the drink he’d bought her, she sat down. Her fingers hovered over the screen as she debated about what to write back. Boy, it was moments like this when she wished she was a lot older, or Amish or something. Anything where texting immediate answers wasn’t expected.

So far, my day’s all right. Since it’s pouring down rain, Chloe and I are still in pajamas hanging out. I’d forgotten about my phone.

His reply was immediate.

It’s raining here too. So, coffee?

Part of her wanted to... but the majority definitely didn’t want him to see her with a red nose. Or to have to explain to Chloe what she was doing.

Thanks, but I don’t think it’s going to work out. Chloe and I are staying in. I must have picked up a cold or something too. So that’s another reason you don’t want to see me.

Another? What was the first?

Well, I guess that’s more about why I don’t want to go out. Chloe’s here. She’s fine on her own, of course, but I rarely get a chance to just hang out with her.

That was all true, but Joy knew it was also painting what they were actually doing a little too flowery. She and her daughter were not baking cookies and having heart-to-hearts. For the last couple of hours, they hadn’t even been in the same room together.

I could stop by and bring y’all coffees. What do you say?

Was she ready for him to meet Chloe—or to answer more questions that would come from her daughter the second he left? Absolutely not.

Her finger hovered over the screen. At last she typed,

I’m sorry, but it feels a little too soon. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.

Not really. But I get it. You got someone taking care of you?

For a cold? No.

Joy noticed that even though Chloe had gone back to her show she was now glancing at her curiously.

I mean for everything.

Joy bit back a sigh. That text was swoonworthy. When was the last time she’d felt like someone had her back?

That was easy. Before Tony had decided that he didn’t want to be married to her anymore.

She pushed the suspicious text she’d received the other night to one side. At last, she responded:

Thanks, but I’m good

All right... but if you get worse, let me know. At the very least I can drop something off, yeah?

Thank you

Nothing to thank me for. You haven’t let me do anything. Not yet.

Resolutely pretending that she wasn’t flattered—and yes, suddenly tempted to ask him over—she carefully texted the safe reply.

Thanks for offering.

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