Evan: Planning my outfit for moving day.
Jess: Three-piece suit?
Evan: I was thinking something more in the rugged lumberjack category. Do you like plaid shirts?
Jess: I *love* plaid shirts.
Evan: Brace yourself for some intense red check, then.
Jess: Oh, I’m braced.
Evan: Good.
Jess: Good.
She pictured him on the other end of the phone chuckling, and she laughed, too.
Jess: You’re a good friend, you know that?
Evan: I try.
Jess: You succeed.
Evan: You’re good for the ego.
Jess: Well, I’m glad we’re good for each other, then.
Evan: Are you working late?
Jess: No, heading to bed soon.
Evan: Ah. Sweet dreams.
She smiled. Maybe they would be after all.
13
Moving day started early. Brent showed up at six in the morning with coffee, donuts, and an extra pair of work gloves, which he slid onto her hands for her.
The baby bird’s wings beat a little stronger. She ignored it, like she had for the last two weeks.
They were friends who loved each other, in a messy way, and were getting to know each other again. That was all.
Right behind him was the moving truck. Two guys, and the one in charge went straight to Brent.
He pointed at Jess. “She’s in charge.”
Damn fucking straight. She nodded crisply. “Everything is labelled. Orange tags, we’re taking in the truck. Pink tags, you guys take. It’s all furniture. We’ll stay out of your way.”
They sat on the porch and had their breakfast while the heavy stuff was moved out. Then they donned their work gloves again and loaded the last of the boxes into the back of Brent’s truck.
“I’ll see you at the storage centre,” she said after doing a final sweep through the house.
Brent nodded. “I’ll go on ahead and start loading up.”
Once he left, Jess had a final private goodbye to the house, then put the keys back in the lockbox on the door. She’d hired cleaners to come through before the new owners took possession later in the day.
Then she climbed into her car.
