Page 7 of Fun and Games
My sister Sheila had sent me a text, and then a voicemail when I didn't immediately answer. I'd have to call her back, or at least return her text.
The laundry was piling up so I'd need to take care of that. I cast my mind to my closet, trying to recall how many more clean clothes I had. The only things I remembered seeing were a couple pairs of yoga pants, one last blouse, and at the back of the closet one of David's…
My breath stuttered in my throat.
It felt as if all the air had been sucked from my lungs.
A painful ache welled up in my chest.
At the back of my closet was one of David's old sweatshirts.
I could almost imagine the smell of him as I mentally pulled his hoodie over my head, still warm from his body heat.
The ache crested inside me and crashed down like a tsunami, threatening to wipe away my very being and leave me adrift.
I fumbled for the front pocket of my messenger bag and rummaged around, finally finding a folded square of paper. I rubbed it between two fingers and took slow, calming breaths until the pain subsided.
I'll have to do laundry when I get home,I thought again, pushing away the other thoughts.
The paper had reminded me of something, though.
I pulled out my phone and checked my travel blog, Breanna's Bucket List. Maybe it wasn't the most creative title, but it did the job. I had ten more followers compared to last week. That was a big deal for me. I'd have to do another update soon.
After checking my blog stats, I brought up my bookmarks tab for all the travel blogs I kept up with. I clicked on one, Rogue on the Road, and my heart sank a little. Still no updates.
Rogue was my favorite travel blogger. He was most people's favorite travel blogger. His popular website was the one Hottie Mason had shown me to prove me wrong in trivia.
When I'd first had the idea to start my own blog, I'd gone looking for others to get inspired, and I'd stumbled across Rogue's.
Something in it called to me. The things he wrote, his thoughts on travel and life in general, the optimism and positivity he conveyed in his writing — it reminded me of the way David used to talk about all the grand plans he had for us.
The plans we'd never gotten a chance to see through.
The Pomeranian pawed at my leg and yapped again. He was panting with his mouth open, almost like he was giving me a doggie smile, and his tail wagged furiously.
My heart melted. I knelt down and gave the back of his neck a good scratch.
"Thanks, buddy," I told him. I couldn't stay sad with that cute face staring up at me.
I secured the leashes in my hand with a firm grip and we continued on our way.
I considered using the walk to call my sister, but I wasn't in the mood for one of her lectures. She'd probably hear the dogs yapping and ask a hundred questions, fromdid you just buy a dog?towhy are you wasting your time with that?when I explained the gig to her.
Then it would turn to,how many cities has it been so far?Anddon't you think it's time to come home?
She always played the older sister card, always trying to give me advice, but her worry and smothering had intensified ever since—
That ache threatened to make it way up my ribcage again, but I forced it down.
I couldn't put it off forever, but I didn't need to call her today. Not when I was already feeling out of sorts. Today I was going to enjoy the great outdoors, if a park in the middle of a city could be called that.
I'd never been to this dog park before, so I had to follow the directions on my phone. I hadn't realized where we were heading until the neighborhood shops started to look familiar. That store sold cupcakes with small fondant bows and hearts on top. That place was a flower shop. That store sold cute notebooks and matching pens. That shop was an artisanal jewelry shop, only selling products from local artists.
Samantha had told me this part of town used to be the sketchy place you wouldn't want to be found in late at night, but over the last few years it had really cleaned itself up.
It was also where the bar Sin and Tonic was located.
The bar with the pub trivia.
