Page 34 of Crave Thy Neighbor

Sam sets the table as I plate the spaghetti, then I pull the garlic bread from the oven and slip it into a napkin and basket like they do at the restaurants because it makes Sam smile.

We chat about his school day over dinner, and afterward, he loads up the dishwasher while I handwash the pots and pans.

“Can I go play Minecraft?” he asks when he’s finished.

“Is your homework done?”

“Yes. I have two questions left but I don’t understand them, so I’m going to ask Mr. Evans for help in the morning.”

“It’s math homework, right?” He nods. “Why are you asking Dean to help with math? He teaches English.”

He shrugs. “Everyone goes to Mr. Evans with homework help. He’s, like, the coolest teacher we have.”

A smile pulls at my lips. River snagged herself a good one.

“Then yes, you can play—after you shower. You’re starting to smell like a teenage boy, and you’re not even a teenager yet.”

“Next month!” he singsongs over his shoulder as he meanders down the hall to the bathroom.

A knot forms in my stomach at the reminder.

Where has the time gone? Has it been thirteen years since my world was flipped upside down?

Sometimes it feels like just yesterday I was sitting in River’s bathroom, four positive pregnancy tests sitting on the counter as she wrapped her arms around me and held me as I cried.

I pull myself from the past and finish cleaning up the kitchen. I move into the living room next, where I find at least two pairs of socks under the couch that certainly don’t belong to me, and then I fold a load of laundry and set the fresh clothes on Sam’s bed.

It’s eight by the time I make my way to my bedroom to finally get out of my work clothes.

I chuckle as I pass the bathroom, hearing Sam in there singing a song at least thirty years older than he is.

He really needs to stop hanging out with Dean so much.

After trading my jeans for a pair of jogger sweats and my flowery blouse for an old t-shirt with one too many holes in it, I see I still have almost another hour until I have to call Nolan. I try to pass the time by making a list of everything I’ll need to do to get ready for the move, but every time I glance at the clock, only a minute or two has passed.

When eight forty-five finally rolls around, I make Sam shut off his game and brush his teeth.

By nine, he’s in bed, and I’m pouring a glass of wine to calm my racing mind.

I climb into my queen-sized bed and fire up the TV I hardly use to distract myself. There’s some reality show playing, and I allow myself to zone out for a few minutes while I gather courage.

I don’t know why my heart is racing. I’ve never been too shy to pick up the phone and talk to someone. But for some reason, calling Nolan is sending my nerves into overdrive.

You’re being ridiculous, Maya. Just call the man and accept his offer. It’s not that hard.

I tip my wine back again, then with a deep breath, I pull up his number on my phone and hit the call icon before I can talk myself out of it.

It rings once before I even bring the phone to my ear.

Then again.

A third time.

And then a fourth.

I’m about to hang up when I hear a groggy voice on the other end of the line.

“’Lo?”

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