Kit: I’ll bring my truck.

Rory: You have a truck?

Kit: I do. I use it when I’m feeling macho.

Rory: laughing emoji

Kit: Uh-oh.

Rory: What?

Kit: You don’t think I’m macho.

Rory: Is that important?

Kit: Nah. Was just being silly. So, what have you been up to?

Rory: Pt. Hank was impressed I’d made it up the embankment. And oh, I talked to the town council and they are adding ramps and railings to the pathway by the river.

Instead of texting back he video-called her.

Rory answered the call, smiling when she noticed that Kit was sitting on a couch wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans. He had some scruff on his jaw, which made him look more devilishly handsome than she had expected.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I just wanted to see you. Sorry I was radio silent. I’ve been out of town on business.”

“That’s fine. I know you have a life,” she told him. “What do you do?”

“I run a global conglomerate.”

“Ah, corporate gibberish.”

“Ha ha. It just means I oversee a company that owns lots of smaller ones. The global bit means we have companies all over the world.”

Rory smiled, liking the deep timbre of his voice. She asked him more questions and he relaxed as he talked about what he did. Sighing, she sank deeper into the pillows on her bed. She hadn’t thought that just hearing someone’s voice could make her feel alive. Maybe because a voice was the one thing that had pulled her from her coma, but there was something about Kit’s voice that made her feel tingly all over.

“But that part is boring,” he said.

She hadn’t been paying attention to his words so had no idea what he’d said. “Not it’s not.”

“Trust me, no one wants to hear about the accounting department.” Then he turned the conversation toward her. “Do you have a job?”

She shook her head. “I am intending to get one but I can’t really stand for a long period.”

She realized how lucky she was not to have to work or rely on anyone to support herself. “I’m also fixing up the house. Indy offered to have her crew film me but I’m not ready for that.”

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I know you’re a Gilbert.”

“Yeah, right now I’m concentrating on getting healthy,” she admitted. But at some point she hoped she’d be healthy enough to have a job. “I have no idea what I’d be good at when I do start looking for work. Maybe you should tell me about accounting.”

He smiled. “It’s working with numbers and spreadsheets all day.”

She made a face. Numbers were always a jumble in her head, and having to go to an office every day made that seem even more like torture. She was still trying to figure out what she wanted to do but she knew it wasn’t that.

“Exactly. I think you’d be good with people,” he said.

“That’s a thought. I guess I better add that to my list,” she said.

“Speaking of that list, what’s next?”