Let me know if there’s anything else I can do! I’m a pack rat, so I might be able to find more stuff from my years at Magnolia Avenue Hospital in one of my closets. LOL!

Since a phone call at such an early hour wouldn’t be considered polite, Leah waited until her lunch break to dial the numbers Joyce had supplied for Tracy and Bonnie. Both calls ended in error messages announcing that the number was no longer in service. She tried them a second time, just to make sure she’d input the digits correctly. She had. Error messages again.

Inside her desk drawer, she located the cute package of notecards one of her students had given her. Bonnie and Tracy no longer used their old phone numbers, but they might still live at their old addresses. She’d write two notes introducing herself as a former patient, expressing her desire for a brief chat, and supplying her phone number.

She stilled, thinking. It might be best to address the letters to Bonnie and Tracy “or current resident.” Otherwise, should new people live at the addresses and receive something addressed to an old tenant, they’d almost certainly trash her letters.

On her way home, she’d drop them by the post office in time to go out with today’s mail.

Since Sebastian had returned to Atlanta early Monday morning, he’d gone through his days feeling each of the one hundred-plus miles separating him from Leah.

Talking to her on the phone wasn’t nearly as good as being with her in person, but it helped. She’d informed him that non-couples shouldn’t talk on the phone for more than thirty minutes per day. So he’d been using up all thirty of his daily minutes.

He’d also requested a week’s vacation from work. When the woman in HR had asked him when he wanted time off, he’d answered, “As soon as possible.” He needed uninterrupted days with Leah in Misty River.

On Wednesday evening, he was stretched out on the sofa in his apartment wearing track pants and an old Harvard T-shirt. He and Leah had been on the phone for twenty minutes so far. While they’d talked, he’d been imagining her in her stylish, uncluttered little house.

“Will you come see me this weekend?” He’d asked the same question for three nights in a row. They’d scheduled him to be on call Saturday and Sunday, which meant he couldn’t leave Atlanta. He was trying to be patient and not bossy, but he didn’t think it was working. He felt bossy about this subject, because he didn’t want to go two weeks without seeing her.

“No, I will not come see you this weekend.”