Caleb noticed.
One afternoon, he caught me returning a borrowed ladder.
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“I’m busy.”
“You’ve been busy for three weeks.”
“I have a job, Caleb.”
“So do I.”
I sighed.
“Please don’t make this difficult.”
His expression changed.
“Make what difficult?”
I couldn’t answer.
I left the ladder against his garage and went home.
For the next month, I convinced myself that distance would solve everything.
Then came the curtains.
It was a Saturday in August, unbearably hot, and the afternoon sunlight poured through my living room window.
I had bought heavy charcoal curtains to keep the room cool, but the curtain rod was too long, my measurements were wrong, and my attempt to install it had left two ugly holes in the plaster.
After forty minutes of struggling, I finally admitted defeat.
I carried the rod and a box of hardware across the lawn.
