“No!” I said. Then, “Yes.”
“Maybe you should go talk to her,” he said thoughtfully. “She did say she still wanted to be a part of your life, and I know the Kid misses her sometimes.”
“He does?” I asked bewildered. That was the first I’d heard of it.
“Yeah, he brings it up every now and then. He asks how she’s doing and if I’ve talked to her.”
“Have you?”
He snorted again. “What do you think, Bear?”
“I don’t know, Otter. What would I say to her? Sorry we broke up, and I haven’t spoken to you in a month, but don’t worry about me, I’ve had a dick up my ass?”
He laughed loudly. “Don’t be so crass,” he playfully admonished me. “If you can’t think of anything to say, then maybe you shouldn’t. But I think you guys are going to hate yourselves down the road if you don’t try to work something out.” He paused. “But don’t go working too much out. I think I would have a problem with that.”
“Right,” I scoffed. “That’s going to happen.”
“Good. So, what have you got to lose?”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“You must hate it a lot, then. I’m always right.”
I groaned. “You’re such a fucking dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your fucking dork, and don’t you forget that. And tell Anna to keep her grubby hands off of you. I’ve never hit a girl, and I don’t want to start now.”
I laughed. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go talk to her.”
“Alright. You can tell me what happens when you get home.” I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy when he said that: home. Not when you get here or your house but home. Like it was his home too. Down, boy, I told myself. You’re not setting up house just yet.
“Bye, Otter,” I said, blushing furiously.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself,” I said back.
“I love you.”
Home, I thought again. “I love you too,” I said quietly, and he hummed contentedly and disconnected.
I hung up the phone and looked down at the paperwork before me. I knew that if I started working on it again that I would not move from that spot until she was gone. What Otter had said, that me and Anna would regret it down the road, bounced around in my head. Would we? Would one of us look back one day and feel a pang of guilt at not at least attempting to build back the bridge that we had once had between us? Granted, anything we put up now would never be as grand as it was, but didn’t she deserve to at least have something? I remembered what she’d said to me that last night we had fought: You’ve broken my heart, but it was mine to give. If she could give that to me, then I could do my best to give her something in return, no matter how small.
Sighing, I pushed my way up from the chair again and walked out to the floor. I glanced down the aisles as I approached her and saw that the store was empty. She heard the sounds of my footfalls and looked up, surprised. I smiled weakly. She looked startled for a moment then smiled back, just as small. I felt a pinprick of relief and closed the distance between us until I stood only a few feet away.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, yourself,” I said back, remembering how Otter had just followed that exchange with I love you. I laughed silently to myself, wondering what Anna would think if she could hear my thoughts.
“What’s up?” she asked me.
“Nothing. What’s up with you?”
Anna cocked her head to the side, as if trying to gauge my sincerity. “Same old, same old,” she said slowly. She glanced back down at her magazine and then back at me, trying to decide which she should focus on.
“That’s good, right?” I said, obviously sounding extremely intelligent.
“I guess.”