He hurried down the path to the front gate and, without turning, closed it behind him. From over the top of the gate I saw him wave then heard a car door slam shut.
I spun around and went back inside. What a feeling. The thought of Oliver coming over for dinner was a more effective cure for depression than any meds. I was on cloud nine for the next forty-eight hours. I was too excited to paint and since I had no need to, I didn’t. I went around the house, tidying this and dusting that. I did some gardening and sat for long periods of time staring out the window at the rain. Several times I wanted to call Craig or Jackson or Stella to tell them my news, but I daren’t. I didn’t want to jinx it. I didn’t want to tempt fate nor did I want to build something up which hadn’t really started yet.
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