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“You sure keep yourself busy.” She sips from her glass, her lips wrapping around the edge.

I shrug. “I’m not much for sitting around. Never have been.”

I learned when I was a kid that too much sitting coincided with examining your feelings about all the shitty things in your life. No thanks.

“Speaking of trucks… I’m not sure what I should do with Caleb’s. It’s been sitting in the driveway ever since…”

“You don’t ever drive it?” I take a pull of my beer.

“No. It’s too big for me. My SUV is about as big as I can handle.”

It sounds like a euphemism, and she must realize it when she repeats the words in her head because she laughs, then I go right along with her.

“You know what I mean.” She leans back, shaking her head.

“I can talk to Earl Timbre about it when I’m there. If you’re planning to sell it, you should have it looked at since it’s been sitting so long. It might need a little maintenance.”

She nods fast a few times, her eyes on her wine.

I raise my hands. “No pressure, of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

“No, I think it’s time. I was just thinking how weird it will be to pull up to the house and not see it there, that’s all.”

“Do you—” I think better of what I was about to ask her and press my lips together.

“Do I what?” Her head tilts.

I sigh. “Do you ever forget that he’s gone? It doesn’t happen as much as it did right after he passed, but even now, sometimes I’ll find myself thinking Caleb is gonna laugh at this or I can’t wait to see what Caleb thinks about this.” The corners of her lips tip down, and I reach for her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She grips my hand back. “No, no. It’s fine. Actually… one thing I’ve realized since I became your pet project is that it’s kind of nice being able to speak about him in a way that doesn’t always have to do with his death. And I’ve realized the more I do it, the easier it feels. I have you to thank for that.”

She holds my gaze, and something passes between us. I’m not sure what, but it’s meaningful and intense, so I divert my eyes to the hockey game. I slip my hand back to my side of the table.

“To answer your question, yeah. Sometimes that happens to me too. Mostly when I first wake up in the morning. There’s a split second where I forget he’s gone. Sometimes it feels like a gift, and other times it feels like a curse.”

“That makes sense.”

“It’s one of the reasons I was thinking of selling the truck. Sometimes when I get home and I see it parked in the driveway, I forget for a split second and think I can’t wait to tell him about this client like I used to when he was alive. I think it might help me move on if it’s not there.”

“All right.” I clap my hands together. “We’ll make it happen then. I’ll talk to Earl Timbre down at the auto shop this week.”

She smiles, but something is still straining the edges of her expression.

“Is there something else holding you back from moving on?” I quickly catch myself. “Not moving on, but you know what I mean. I⁠—”

Collins raises her hand. “Ansel, it’s fine. I know exactly what you mean. And it is moving on. It’s moving on from the life I thought I’d have to the one I’ve been dealt.”

I appreciate her graciousness since I wasn’t trying to imply that she’s leaving behind the memory of Caleb without a care. I’d never think that.

“But yeah, there is something bugging me. It’s just…” She twists her lips, then waves it off. “Never mind.”

“Come on, I did hot yoga for you. You can tell me.”

She smiles, but I don’t pull a laugh from her. “No, really, it’s nothing.”

I decide to drop it because it’s clearly something she’s not ready to discuss. I’ll wait.

For now.