Chilly. I like it.

I think of how I told him that I’ve gotten used to the weight of the blanket and now I feel like I need another one on top of this one. And how we joked that I would probably squish myself to death because I’d always want more and more and more.

I am always wanting more.

She tells me to come park down by her Audi. But there are three of them in the driveway. I laugh.

These stories don’t match up. But they never do.

Hot in the sun. The fog burned off faster than I thought it would. Dusty boots. This is my happy place.

We make the drive to get white tees. “I wish there was a Target closer to us.” “Well, that’s small-town life, I guess.” “Or at least some kind of store where you could buy a shirt.” I laugh.

We chat with the owners of the pizza shop. They are going on vacation soon. We walk to Legit and get a glass of wine while the pizzas cook. We sit on the bench and drink the wine. “This is kind of what I imagined for us living here. I mean, all the hard things it took to get here…it was worth it.”

He's very talkative. That’s a good sign.

Coconut popsicle?