Page 94 of A Whole New Play

I may have faced my dad, but I’m still avoiding my mother. That hasn’t stopped her from leaving texts and voicemails telling me of her disappointment. Or how she thinks I’m being impulsive. How I’m ruining my life. Etcetera. Etcetera.

Unlike with Dad, her disapproval doesn’t hurt. But it still stings that she hasn’t even bothered to ask if I’m okay before tearing into me for what she perceives as a stupid decision. She won’t care that Carter and I met before I became his nanny—that neither of us had been able to forget the connection we felt under that Caribbean night sky. That he gets me like no man ever has, and I can’t imagine not giving us this chance to be together.

No. I scoff. Mom doesn’t give a damn about my happiness. Just how my actions make her look.

I pick up my pace. Not enough to leave me winded, but enough to get my heart rate up. Hopefully, a dose of endorphins will help alleviate the irritation I feel when thinking about my mother.

The sun dips low in the sky, casting the world into hues of pink and red. Rose Hill is a beautiful town. It’s peaceful. Much more peaceful than any place I’ve ever lived.

My thoughts finally quiet to a low hum in the back of my head. I inhale the fresh air, letting it clear away my negativity. For now, at least.

I reach the fork in the road and once again turn right. This road is two lanes and would take me to the center of town if I didn’t veer off at the curve half a mile ahead that leads back to Carter’s house. There’s never much traffic out here, just the odd Rose Hill resident coming back from an errand in the nearest town three miles south. Still, I remind myself to be vigilant as I run along the edge of the road.

I’m halfway to the curve when the phone pressed against my arm buzzes and rings with an incoming call. Expecting it to be my mother, I lift my opposite hand as I look down, prepared to hit the decline button, when I see it’s not my mom.

My forehead creases. Slowing my pace, I hit accept and the button to turn on speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Hi, is Valerie Palmer there?”

“Speaking.”

“Hey, Valerie. I’m not sure if you remember me, but this is Will Wright. We went to high school together.”

I slow my pace further. “Of course, I remember you, Will.” He and I shared several advanced classes in school, but we weren’t what I’d call friends. We were more like acquaintances, but we were friendly enough. I only have his number because we were partners on a government project senior year.

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure this was your number anymore.”

“I thought the same when your name showed up on my screen,” I offer with a chuckle. “How are you?”

“I’m good. What about you?”

I slow to a brisk walk. What are the chances Will knows about me and Carter? Plenty of my high school friends have messaged me about the news. Will likely knows at least someone who heard about my relationship with the star linebacker. But on the off chance he doesn’t, I decide not to bring it up.

“I’m doing well. What have you been up to all these years?”

For a couple of minutes, Will and I politely update each other on our lives.

I learn he went to Stanford which isn’t surprising. I remember how hardworking and smart he was in school. He tells me he moved back to Texas while searching for a job, but he’s going to move back to California to work at a startup with one of his college buddies.

“I just figured if no one is hiring right now, I might as well take a risk and see if Henry and I can make something of ourselves.”

“That’s exciting.” And bold. It’s no small thing to take a chance on yourself when the rest of the world tells you to play it safe. “I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks, me too.”

I reach the curve that leads to Carter’s house. The sun has almost completely dipped behind the horizon. I didn’t bring my reflective gear because I thought I’d be back by now.

I remove my phone from the arm holder and turn on my flashlight as a precaution. I should still be easy to see, but in case that changes, I hope the light will alert them to my presence.

Will clears his throat. “Well, I’m sure you’re wondering about why I called you after all the years.”

I laugh. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Well, I was in Houston last weekend and I ran into Megan. She told me you recently quit your job as an accountant.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what else my best friend told him, but I’m sure it wasn’t anything too private. Still, it’s never a great feeling to know people are talking about you and you don’t know what they’re saying.

“Yeah, and I was wondering… are you interested in a job?”

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