Sweet Satisfaction

I kicked off my sandy flip-flops by the back door, and traipsed into the house in search of some ice tea. I grabbed a tall glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice and a few lemon slices .

I had left my phone on the counter. There was a message from work. I listened to the voicemail .

“Hey Sierra. I know you’re on leave, but we need you back at the station. Turns out Wendy needs to take maternity leave early and there isn’t another anchor we can get on short notice to fill in for her. Give me a call. It’s Brody, by the way .”

I groaned. Work was the last thing on my mind. They would have to wait until this tea was gone. I had too many things going on .

It wasn’t like I was trying to take advantage of the station. If anything I had been terrified to leave. But I hadn’t made it back for the funeral and I didn’t have any other family members. It seemed like a good idea to roll all my sick time and funeral time into one big summer break .

The head of human resources said she understood. As the sole heir, I had a lot of shit to sort through. But time was shrinking. The house was still seventy-five percent full and I hadn’t even tried to list it yet with a realtor .

I slumped onto the couch .

And Blake .

If I thought somehow I could right that wrong, I was hopeless .

The cruises. The drinks. The day at the beach—it was all to get in my pants for some kind of final goodbye vengeance sex .

My skin tingled. My core ached .

Why did it sound like the hottest night of my life ?

I picked up the phone and waited for Brody to answer .

“Sierra, hey girl. Glad you called me back. When are you coming back ?”

“I still have two weeks. I was planning on using them,” I replied .

“Right. You got my message about Wendy, right? She has to go on bed rest next week .”

“Bed rest? Is it that serious ?”

“Uhh. I don’t think so .”

“Did you ask her?” I wasn’t surprised he didn’t know any details .

“Look, it isn’t my business. I just work the schedule .”

I sighed. “So you need me back a week early ?”

“We do, babe. Can you come home ?”

Home. It was a funny word lately. Dallas was where my apartment was. Where I kept my massive shoe collection and my journalism school diploma. The island wasn’t home anymore. But the memories had started to seep in in surprising ways. Familiar scents. Comfortable accents. Views that soothed my soul .

“Yeah, of course.” I tried to smile. “Tell Wendy not to worry about it .”

“Good. I knew you’d come through. We’ve missed you around here .”

“Thanks. I’ve missed it too .”

“See you next week .”

“Yep. See you soon .”

I hung up and realized my job of going through Aunt Lindy’s house had just become unsurmountable. There was no way I was going to get everything done in a week. I was crazy to think it would have been done in two .

That meant I was going to have to come back .