Page 53 of Ewan


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It still looks finer, and it runs perfectly.

I took it for a spin yesterday afternoon when I drove to the store to buy oranges, grapes, a few candy bars, and coffee.

Mrs. Eisenhower was inside her house when I returned, and I was happy I didn’t have to give her an explanation.

Even so, I feel her inquisitive gaze every time I walk into the kitchen. Hers faces mine, and although the hedge separates us to a point, it is not difficult to peek into each other places.

My mother loved this feature.

Me? Not so much.

My mother also loved Charlotte. She said she was quirky and had a good heart.

I don’t know about that.

She intimidated me when I was younger, much younger. A teen. She was loud and had an opinion about everything. Nothing has changed, and I expect her to ask me about my new man.

My new man isn’t my new man, and sooner or later, she’ll find out.

Finally, I finish working out and slow down, and my phone buzzes again.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I say, panting, and sliding off and moving to the window sill.

I pick up my phone, the name of a good friend flashing across the screen.

“Sammy? What’s up, girl? I haven’t heard from you in a while. Things okay?”

“They’re perfect,” she says, laughing at the other end of the phone line.

Sammy is a math teacher I met through my ex. She was one of his few friends who sided with me after our separation.

In all fairness, we have many things in common.

She’s twenty-eight and a divorcee, and she’s working hard to make ends meet, just like me.

She’s taught me how to do several side hustles and put me in touch with the right people.

I’m taking whatever jobs she has for me whenever I’m getting a call from her.

I never say no to some extra money since I fear those opportunities might dry up if I get too picky.

I’ve been making extra money with wedding photography, pet sitting, house sitting, waitressing, and running errands. Online tutoring, as well. You name it.

I’m not choosy.

I’ve done a few things I won’t put on my resume anytime soon, but it’s nothing illegal.

We catch up on things, and I feel good about talking to her. Getting a little cold, I toss my bathrobe over my shoulders and head to the shower, phone in hand.

That’s why I like exercising at home.

I can take a shower, drink freshly squeezed juice, and eat a candy bar, all while talking on the phone.

“Listen…” she starts. “We have a big party event tonight in Manhattan. It’s a Christmas party, and my boss wants extra people on the floor. I already told him about you, so he knows you’ve worked as an waitress. It’s a swanky place and the tipswill be amazing. You can leave with some serious cash at the end of the shift. The only thing is, you need to make the trip here, and I don’t recommend you driving in. Parking is non-existent in this part of town. What say you?”

“Uh…”

“Please don’t tell me you’re still thinking about it?”