Chapter 2
It’s been nearly three weeks since Mom’s accident—and the leaves are more yellow than green, but the heat still refuses to let go—when my phone rings just as I’m on my way back to my office after a long, infuriating meeting. I don’t recognize the number but accept the call. “Oren Walker.”
“Oren. Hi. It’s Pete. Pete Higgins. Your mom’s next-door neighbor.”
“Oh, hey!” I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about him these last few weeks. In the shower, before bed, while having my morning coffee. He’s hot enough to set fire to my pants, but that’s only part of the appeal. Mom hasn’t stopped talking about him since her accident, about how gentle he was when he’d helped her. How considerate and thoughtful and nice he was when she was hurt and scared, and in the days that have
