For The One(20)

“Well, I thought we could get started on some of those calming techniques to help with your unease with crowds. Would tonight be okay? After dinner?”

“I’ve eaten dinner, but you are welcome to come after you’ve eaten. I’m working out right now. Then I will be in my workshop. You can come during that time.”

“Uh, okay…your workshop? Is that at your house?”

“Yes. Just ring the doorbell and come in. I’ll be able to hear the doorbell in my workshop. I’ll leave the front door unlocked, and the workshop is in the backyard.”

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll be over at seven-thirty.”

I glance at the clock. “I’ll see you in ninety-four minutes, then.”

She laughs again. “Yeah…more or less.”

When Jenna hangs up, I pace the floor of my workout room. What will I say to her? How will I talk to her? I’ve never been alone with her. Ever. I have no idea what to expect.

I pick up my phone and quickly dial my cousin’s number. He answers on the third ring.

“Liam,” Adam says, calling me by my childhood nickname. “What’s up?”

“I need your help with a situation that has come up.”

I continue to pace in tighter and tighter circles around my gym until I’m eventually rocking from one foot to the other.

“A situation? You okay? You need me to come over?”

“Are you still at work?” I say, glancing at the clock. “Mia will be upset with you.”

“She’s fine. She’s at school late today, studying. What can I do for you?”

“I don’t need you to come over, but I do need advice. Jenna just called me. She is coming to my house.”

A pause. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is neither a bad thing nor a good thing.”

“So what do you need?” he asks.

“I need to figure out what to say to her. I can never tell what she’s thinking.”

Adam chuckles. “Well…in spite of my many impressive talents, I can’t read the female mind. Especially the female that I live with. So I doubt I’ll be able to shed any light on your situation.” Though I understand that euphemism—Adam uses it a lot—I immediately picture him turning on the bright red desk lamp in his bedroom at the house we lived in together as teenagers.

“Okay, but I may need to call you back afterward. I’m sure I’ll have a lot of questions.”

“If I don’t answer, I’ll call you back as soon as I can. But whatever happens, please remember not to get worked up about it.”

“I always remember not to get worked up, Adam. But that doesn’t affect whether or not I do.”

He sighs again. “Yeah, I know. Good luck.”

I hang up. Why would I need luck? There is no such thing as luck. As a programmer, Adam knows that perfectly well. He uses the expression liberally anyway.

I check the clock—only a few minutes left of my workout session. I’m stiff with frustration as I realize I have no time to practice with my sword tonight.

After I change into a pair of jeans, I stop by the kitchen to load up on some ice water to quench my thirst while attempting my next project. Then, it’s time to head out back.

My blacksmithing workshop is inside a big shed in the backyard. It’s large enough to fit my forge, bellows and the other equipment I use. The moment I walk in, a wall of heat hits me from the forge. I’d started the fire when I got home from the office so the forge would be ready for me when it came time to work.

I pull the chain to turn on the overhead light and check my list of orders placed by members of our clan over the weekend. Fortunately, I’d only planned on doing some minor work, so Jenna’s visit won’t be overwhelmingly disruptive to my schedule. That, at least, brings me a little comfort.

It’s too late to completely abandon the plans to work here tonight, as I don’t want to waste the fire and all the wood it took to attain the optimum temperature. And besides, it’s a perfect night to work in the shop. Chilly, but not cold.

We’ve had a warm winter, and sometimes that makes it downright unpleasant in the workshop. But I do really love the work…the way I feel, the way it relaxes me.

Having already shed my workout clothes in favor of jeans, I throw on my goggles, a protective leather apron and thick gloves. Though hot, the fire is small, perfect for simple heating and hammering.

I pull out my tools and line them up near the anvil, fill my metal slack tub with water and I’m ready to work. Yes, this is much better. My forced concentration on the task at hand will keep me from obsessing over Jenna’s impending visit.