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“Actually, there is one thing I’d like from you.” He rubbed his hands. “Just one.”
I knew it.“What?”
“I’d like to see my grandchildren while they’re still toddlers,” he said. “I never got the chance to hold you, so…My number is on the back of those test results, whenever you’ve had a chance to think about it.”
“Is something wrong with tonight?” My emotions spoke before I could think it through.
“Not at all.”
I motioned for him to follow me inside and onto the elevator. The mirrored glass reflected our resemblance even more.
“For the record, this means nothing,” I said. “You’re just a random stranger with an intriguing backstory.”
“Pierce is my middle name. I’m glad it’s your first.”
“Stop talking. We are not friends.”
“We’re family.” He smiled as the doors opened on my floor.
As I ushered him inside, I pulled out my phone, ready to tell Harlow all about this, but then I remembered why I couldn't.
She’s a liar…
FORTY-NINE
HARLOW
New York’s bleak and wintry weather was conspiring with Pierce Dawson to make my heartache ten times worse.
After the first week of my “breakup/firing,” I took the subway to Manhattan, suffering freezing toes with every ride, until I realized I didn’t need to travel that far for a coffee.
My world needed to rotate around its former axis in Brooklyn, but the grey skies and heavy snowfall never invited me further than two blocks. I had no choice but to commandeer my couch and surrender to YouTube, only leaving the cushions to grab delivery food.
So far this week, I’d learned that the sharpest knives were handcrafted in Japan, that over eighty percent of the ocean was still uncharted, and that Orca whales (not asshole billionaires) were at the top of the food chain.
If I sustained this pace for the rest of the year, I might be ready to compete on Jeopardy.
While I toggled between “How Hot Dog Buns are Really Made,” and “Siberian Husky Dog Sings During His Bath,” my phone sounded.
Sasha...
I’d ignored her calls and half-answered her texts since she’d been away, but it was beyond time to give in.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“Yeah?” She scoffed. “That’s how you answer after dodging me for weeks?”
“It’s only been one week, Sasha.”
“Tomorrow will make a month.”
“I…” I looked at my calendar in disbelief. “Sorry. I guess I’ve lost track of time since I’ve been so busy.”
“Busy doing what?”
“Research.” I grabbed my potato chips. “Did you ever hear that story about the lady who lived on the couch so long that her body started to fuse with the fabric?”
“Vaguely. Why?”
