Page 86 of Safe With You

“And got smart with me the entire time.”

“You called knowing who I was.”

“That is unfortunately true.”

“Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, baby. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

I ended the call and set my phone on the dresser.

The green blouse was still waiting on the chair.

I looked at it once more before heading toward the bathroom.

Tomorrow’s problem.

Today, I was already running five minutes behind. I finished getting ready and got dressed in something that required significantly less thought than tomorrow’s outfit had.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, I had just enough time to make coffee without convincing myself I could also sit down and enjoy it.

My planner was still open on the counter from the night before, three pages of notes staring back at me while I waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

The one thing nobody tells you about being your own boss is that every good idea eventually becomes another thing you have to do.

Somehow I’d taken one successful Tuesday night and turned it into a second Open Mic, a possible local author series, a Saturday story hour I hadn’t technically committed to yet, new photographs for the website, and three pages of notes I’d written after convincing myself I was only going to jot down one thing.

This was why I couldn’t be trusted with momentum.

One thing at a time.

I’d been telling myself that for years.

Apparently, I had stopped listening.

The coffee maker sputtered behind me, and I reached for my mug before adding enough vanilla creamer to make Ellis question whether what I drank could legally still be called coffee.

I paused with the bottle in my hand.

Then frowned.

Why had I thought about him?

It had been one conversation.

One very long conversation, but still.

I poured a little more creamer into my cup on principle.

Whatever.

Tuesday had enough problems of its own.

My phone lit up on the counter.

For half a second, I looked at it expecting⁠—