Chapter Thirty Seven

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Polly sat idly at her keyboard, alternating between staring out the window, sipping her coffee and skipping from blog to blog, reading about all the adventures everyone else on the planet was having.

She, on the other hand, was sitting in her pajamas, not working, not writing and not even pretending to be productive in any other arena.

She was powering up, she told herself. She'd been back in LA for a day, and was trying to find the strength to jump back into corporate litigation, the strength to go to therapy with Matthew again with that weasely therapist, and was trying to find the strength to re-inherit her life as she knew it before she disappeared into the north woods for a while.

And if she was honest, she missed Chase, Jack, and all the warm and fuzzy feelings the two of them brought to her life. She'd only been gone a day – wouldn't it be tacky and needy to already email him? Isn't there a rule somewhere about how long you are supposed to wait to return a phone call or something? Where's the handbook for this?

She spent at least ten minutes Googling for answers to her email-or-not dilemma before just biting the bullet and logging into her email and composing a short note to Chase.

Hi Chase,

I'm back in the land of sunshine and fast cars, and for some reason, I'm already missing the solitude of the lake and Parker's cooking, though I've only been gone a day.

I just wanted to say hi, and make sure you had my email address, you know, in case you needed to get in touch with me about the cabins or something. 

Or just to say hi.

You know, whichever.

I'm still working on my novel – for what it's worth, it's more like therapy at this point than a sellable commodity – and I thought you might enjoy reading what I've written so far. Don't feel like you have to, though; I mean, my feelings won't be hurt at all if you give it a miss. It's not very good, but I thought you might enjoy the setting.

Anyway, I'll be in touch soon. Hugs to you and Jack.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Polly

Before she had time to hesitate, she hit send, and then settled back to wait.

And wait.

For however long it took.

Ten minutes later as she was reading an article online, her email server pinged, and she switched windows and smiled when she saw Chase's name in her inbox. Without a second thought, she clicked on the message and began reading.

Hiya Kitten,

I glad to hear from you. I was hoping you would write so I'd have your email address, since I didn't want to ask and be all stalkery, though in retrospect, it's tough to stalk from three thousand miles away.

Anyway, hi. Glad to hear from you.

Thanks for sending what you've written so far, because I can't wait to read it. I'm sure it's spectacular, just like you.

I have to tell you, I think Jack is having some separation issues. He keeps saying he wants to go back to the woods to where the nice lady with the weak ankles lives, and I keep having to explain that that lady just loved us and left us, and he's just not taking the news very well.

So, even if it's just for his sake, please write back. The wooddog misses you.

And so do I.

Can't wait to read your story...

--Chase

PS By the way, I do hope the story features spray cheese in some way. It would be criminal if it didn't.

And just like that, Polly's heart skittered to life again.

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