“Are you sure? She won’t mind?”
“No, not at all. She’s all about the more the merrier! Now, let’s find you a sweater, too.”
By four in the afternoon, I see Travis is still in his office and I’m starting to panic if I’ll get him to leave on time or not. He ends up walking out just as I stand up to go into his office, so I quickly sit back down.
“Hey, Travis!” I call out, grabbing his attention. “Are you heading out?”
He looks at his watch and furrows his brows. “No, I wasn’t planning to.”
“Oh, well you’ll be late for your appointment with your lawyer at four-thirty. He’s meeting you and Viola at the house, remember?”
“My lawyer? For what? I don’t have anything on my calendar.”
“Oh, that’s um, because Viola scheduled it last minute to go over your living wills and life insurance policy,” I lie, trying to keep my voice steady. “She told me to remind you if you didn’t remember.”
He draws his brows together as if he’s trying to remember Viola telling him, but he shakes his head and clears his throat. “Okay, well then I guess I better grab my stuff and head out. She’ll be pissed if he shows up and she has to deal with the kids by herself.”
“No problem, Boss. I’ll handle the office for you,” I say with a cheesy smile.
“Yeah, I have no doubt,” he grumbles, heading back into his office to grab his briefcase and keys. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Yup. See you Monday!” I beam. It might not have been the most honest way to get him home early, but I know I kept my part of the deal. Now to make sure Viola does, too.
The following week, we finally get the closing date for the house. We’ve been so fortunate for such a smooth process, it almost feels like something will go wrong at any moment because that’s what usually happens. Nothing ever seems to go this easy for us.
We continue packing boxes and Kayla continues sending me Pinterest links, which make it harder and harder to stay patient. I just want us to move in, be unpacked, and able to decorate already.
“It feels so weird packing up my room,” I tell Drew as he sits on a stool, taping a box shut. “I can hardly believe it’s been three years since I’ve moved in here.”
“I know. Travis and I moved in like seven or eight years ago, I think. It was the summer before our junior year. Lots of memories created in this place.” He looks around, and I can only imagine the memories he and Travis made while living together—especially during college.
“I don’t even want to think about how many girls Travis has brought back here,” I cackle, knowing all about his past prior to Viola and him getting together.
He pinches his lips together, not admitting anything.
“What?” I inquire. “You have that look on your face.”
“I’m pleading the fifth, that’s all. I’m not saying a word about Travis and his…conquests.”
I laugh because I know he knows all too well about Travis and his pre-Viola days. The war between those two helped bring us together on the night of their wedding.
“Well, it was in this very house that they finally admitted their feelings and got together,” he states. “Just glad I wasn’t home that week.” His face contorts, and I laugh at his expression.
“It was also here where I first met you and you nearly took my breath away—well, technically the beam I walked into did—but it was the sight of you that distracted me.” I snicker at the memories.
“Come here.” He pats a hand on his thigh, motioning for me to come sit on his lap. I take a seat and wrap my arm around his shoulders, keeping our eyes locked. “We’ve created a lot of memories here, and I’ll never forget them, but I can’t wait to make many more in our new house.” He flashes an ear-to-ear smile and leans in, pressing his lips to mine. “Plus, think of all the new places we’ll need to christen.”
“That is true,” I say sardonically. “However, we’ll always have an extra pair of eyes on us, so we’ll need to create a spot just for him.” As if he could understand what I said, Buddy comes over, wagging his tail and sticking his nose in my face. “Yes, you,” I tell him, petting his head.
“I think he’ll like the new house. A whole new yard to mark his territory,” he says playfully. “Just make nice with the other dogs in the neighborhood. Don’t want to go pissing them all off before they even get to know us.”
“Buddy’s a good boy,” I praise. “He’ll make friends with everyone, won’t you?” He wags his tail so hard, his entire butt shakes. “He agrees,” I tell Drew, smiling.