Amanda was the first to follow her. “How was therapy?”

“Fine,” Gretchen said in a huff. “I’m still expected to make a full recovery.” Her speech was surer, and her words came a little faster.

“That’s great. You sound great.”

“I have to bring Caleb by,” Jax said as she entered the room with heavy footsteps. “You can’t keep avoiding him. I’m running out of excuses.”

“I’m not avoiding him.” She felt ashamed to lie and hated how those words came easily when asking for potato chips was still a struggle.

“Yes, you are, and as much as I hate that you’re doing it, I do understand it’s scary. The kid is loud and in your face, but God, he misses his mother and is so worried about you.” Jax looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

Gretchen’s heart started to ache. She thought of their baby, the infant she had in her mind whose eyes mirrored her own. “Okay. Bring him by after dinner.”

Jax eyed her skeptically. “Won’t you be tired? You get cranky when you’re tired.”

Amanda snorted.

“I feel pretty cranky right now,” she replied sharply. She was proud of how she sounded like her old self.

“How about I go get Caleb now, and we bring you some rocky road from the place across town, not the one right around the corner whose chocolate ice cream tastes like white?”

“It does taste like white.” Gretchen crossed her arms over her chest and felt every bit like a child throwing a tantrum. But ice cream did sound good. “A large cup with—”

“Extra sprinkles.” Jax smiled at her. They had softened around each other considerably over the past week, but the ice was still there. Gretchen was unsure if she’d ever thaw. Jax grabbed her jacket and left.

“I’m fine. No ice cream for me, thank you,” Amanda called out to Jax. “Gotta watch the waistline.”

“If I had my phone, I’d be able to text her your order.”

“That reminds me.” Amanda reached into her bag that seemed to grow a size every day. “This came today. I stopped by the Verizon store and very kindly explained the situation. They helped me restore everything.”

Gretchen snatched the box from Amanda’s hands and hugged it. “You’re a saint. An absolute saint.”

Amanda bowed slightly. “For many reasons, but you don’t have to bother listing them now.”

Gretchen unboxed the phone and grew antsy as she powered it on. The small screen flashed with a bombardment of messages, alerts, and notifications. She deleted the meaningless ones first and then opened her messages. Everything else pending could wait. Amanda deserved any and all ice cream her heart desired.

“What would you like? My treat.” She opened a text window to Jax and swallowed hard when their full message string popped up. For all the blessings technology gave, Gretchen felt cursed. She read through each exchange, one more curt and hurtful than the next. She barely recognized herself in the words. “Was this really us?”