"Riley? Riley Wilcox?" a voice said. Wilcox? What? Oh, maybe it was so no one would catch on to what was happening.
"...Yeah," I replied.
"Congratulations. You got the job. Can you start tomorrow?"
"Oh...yeah. I can. I'm sorry, but who is this?" I asked.
"Barbara Clark. You know, the owner of Starlight Cafe where you applied to be a chef...Are you okay?"
"Oh, that's right. Sorry. It must be the jet lag," I lied. A chef. I was going to be a chef. I'd been going to school to do just that when it had all ended. Now I was getting another chance at life and at fulfilling my dream. I really was blessed, although at the time I couldn't see it. I was too scared. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Be here at 5 am to begin with breakfast," Barbara said.
"Okay. Thanks again." After I hung up the phone, I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs and out the front door. I collapsed onto the porch swing and closed my eyes, letting the cool morning breeze blow through my hair. Behind my eyes, I could see the guys. My precious Nick. I hoped he was okay. He was so energetic he needed to be watched so carefully. How could this have happened. I'd probably never see him again. Or any of the other guys either. Kevin who made my job a little easier when he was around. Howie who loved the ladies and was constantly trying to set up the rest of the guys. AJ who loved to shop and just be silly. And Brian who was just as energetic as Nick and always made everyone around him laugh. Would I ever see any of them again?
"Heads up!" a voice yelled. I opened my eyes and saw a basketball flying towards my head. I ducked and fell off the swing and onto the porch.
"Ow," I muttered, standing up and rubbing my arm.
"Are you okay?" I looked up and into a very familiar face.
"Yeah," I replied softly, just staring into those eyes.
"Hey! You're that girl from the concert last night!" I nodded. "Sorry about knocking you down."
"It's fine." Brian smiled slightly.
"What are the odds that you'd end up being my neighbor? When did you move in?"
"Yesterday. I don't know how long I'll be here, though." I watched as Brian walked around to the other side of my porch and retrieved his basketball. Then he walked back over and sat on the railing across from me.
"Why?" he finally asked.
"I just have this feeling that I won't be here very long. Don't you ever get those feelings?"
"Yeah, but my feelings are always wrong." I saw a flash of hurt in Brian's eyes. It was gone so fast that I couldn't tell if it was real or if I'd imagined it. He smiled again. "Do you play basketball?" he asked.
"No. I'm terrible at it," I replied.
"I can teach you. I need something to do anyway. It's nice to be home, but I get kinda bored," Brian said. "Come on." I followed him off the porch and to a basketball court in his back yard.
"I warn you, you've never seen anyone as bad as me," I said.
"I'll bet I have. Here," he threw me the ball, "just shoot." I took a deep breath. This could be bad. I had never been able to play basketball. And I'd been out of practice for what...30 years? "Come on," Brian prompted. "The worst you can do is miss." I gulped and threw the ball at the hoop...sort of. It didn't even make it.
"I told you I'm bad," I mumbled. Brian retrieved the basketball and handed to me.
"Try again." I tried again. Same thing.
"I'm a lost cause," I told him.
"No you're not," Brian said. He handed me the ball and walked around behind me. He put his hands on top of mine and positioned them. "Hold it like this." He stepped back. "Shoot." I threw the basketball and it hit the backboard.
"It hit the backboard!" I cried. "It actually hit the backboard!" Without thinking, I threw my arms around Brian. He stumbled backwards and I realized what I had done. I let go of him and stepped away a little. "Sorry," I said.
"It's okay," Brian replied, smiling. It was one of his smiles that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He looked so cute when he smiled like that. "I told you you're not a lost cause. Come on, let's keep trying."
Awhile later, Brian looked at his watch. "Whoa," he said.
"What?" I asked, attempting to dribble the basketball between my legs. It wasn't working.
"It's 4:00. We've been out here for five hours." I stopped dribbling and the basketball rolled away.
"Are you serious?" Brian nodded.
"It's about time to eat!" he said. "But I don't have anything in my house. And I'm so sick of fast food. Oh well, I'll put up with it for one more night.
"Wait," I said. "I'm a chef. I can make something."
"Really?" Brian's eyes lit up. "If it's not to much trouble..."
"It's not. I'm hungry too." Brian followed me back to my house and into my kitchen. I opened the refrigerator. It was fully stocked. 'I'm starting to like this house' I thought. "What do you want? Chicken and rice, enchiladas, lasagna, shrimp..."
"Chicken and rice sounds good," Brian replied. So that's what I made. How silly it was to think that only that morning I was worried I would never see the guys again. Now I was eating supper with Brian. Maybe this whole living thing wouldn't be so bad.