“I don’t know. All these women keep knocking on our door, leaving love letters and worn panties.”

She laughed and shoved me. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“I’ll still love you,” I said. “And I’ll keep the bed warm and toasty and waiting.”

We found the bus and I stowed her bag in the storage area beneath it. Then I scoped out the other passengers, looking for any swinging dicks that might hit on Carolyn. There were a few halfway decent-looking guys, and judging by the number of people milling around, the bus would probably be full; she’d have to share a seat with somebody.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she said, and leaned in and hugged me.

“Hope you have a great time,” I said. “I miss you already.”

“I miss you, too.”

Then I kissed her and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground, which was done mostly for show while hoping that anyone who had noticed her was watching. Then she pulled away and climbed the stairs and I watched her scoot down the aisle of the bus that’d take her home, back to Iowa and her past. She found a seat beside a matronly woman in her forties. I relaxed a little, feeling much better about the next six hours or so.

I stayed until the bus pulled away, and then I waved at Carolyn waving back until I couldn’t see her anymore, the bus disappearing around the turn.

4

Saturday, late afternoon. Carolyn had been gone for two days and would be gone another four. I called her at noon, no answer, and again at two, the same. I forced myself not to add meaning to it, supposing she was out and about with her parents and away from her phone. But I’ve never been good at controlling my thoughts and it was no different then.

The day before, I had bought two books on writing successful query letters. I read the first that night and the other the next morning, then I wrote five letters. From the books, I gleaned there were ten major rules to follow. In the previous letters, I had broken eight of them, so of course I hadn’t received any requests.

To mix things up, I kept the windows open as I worked at the desk, the wind pushing in, filling the apartment with the cool, crisp air of spring. I had to wear a sweater to keep warm, but the sky was blue and the sun was out and it was great hearing the birds sing again. Then Gene’s familiar knock interrupted me. I opened the door and found him brimming at the threshold.

“You have to come up and check this out,” he said.