Thoughts of my postcard are quickly replaced with what I admit is a gleeful thrill.

I enter my apartment and tread softly, as if I’m going to disturb the real owner. Because I still can’t believe this is my new home.

Not only is this apartment the most beautiful empty space I’ve ever seen, it has the sunniest windows on God’s green earth. And there’s the perk of its location, right next to Leo.

My happiness is marred by the knowledge of how I’m able to pay for this place. I get a hollow feeling when I think of the money that Wesley left me. Not even his real wife, I nevertheless inherited money he earmarked for me. I puzzle over why he bothered.

I shake off the ghosts as I always do when the negative thoughts spill into my consciousness.

Instead, I spin slowly in the center of the room before I sit cross-legged on the hardwood floor. Sunshine streams in, forming a circle exactly around me. My cell rings, breaking into the stillness and helping me feel less alone.

Daddy.

I hesitate, but only for an instant since I know he’ll call back if I don’t answer. He’s not one for leaving voicemail.

“Hi Daddy.”

“Angel?”

“Someone else calling you Daddy?”

“Funny. Of course not. You don’t sound like yourself. Are you doing OK?”

“Sure. I’ve moved into my new apartment.” I wait for the impending argument with a leaden feeling in my stomach.

“So you are staying.” He speaks the words slowly, in a way that invites discussion. This is new. Although I’m twenty-two years old, he and Mama have questioned all my decisions since I ran off with Wesley.

“For a while. I like the weather here. The people are nice.”

“You thought you liked it in Tacoma, too,” he says.

Daddy wouldn’t say this if he knew I actually wanted to move back to Texas for most of my time with Wesley. I never voiced those thoughts to my parents. They were already unhappy Wesley had moved me across the country, away from my family and friends.

“Well, I like Nashville better,” I say.

“You’re all alone, Angel. It’s not right. A girl your age needs family nearby.”

I give a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not a girl. I’m a woman. I can live on my own.”

“We know that. But you would be happy here. You could meet a nice young man.”

I rub my forehead. “Daddy, I know you mean well, but you have to quit. You have to accept that I can make smart decisions that work for me. Do you think I can’t take care of myself? That I need some ‘nice young man’ to take care of me?” He can’t see the air quotes, but I still do them with my free hand.

Of course, I’ve made horrible, impulsive choices. Running off to marry Wesley when we’d only dated a few weeks ruined their opinion of me forever.

There’s silence and the seconds tick by as I wait for him to respond. “Daddy?”

“Your mother and I worry about you. We want you to be happy. We pray for you every day.”

“I know.” I can only imagine the sermons Daddy’s given, alluding to his prodigal daughter.

“Will you make me a promise?”

“Sure.”

“That if you change your mind and want to move home, you’ll call us. We’ll rent a truck and move all your things for you. You can stay in your old room. And there’s a group of singles at the church that you can join. We have a new member of our congregation that has a lot in common with you. She’s a little older, but she lost her husband after twenty-two years of marriage.”

I’m silent, my eyes closed, and my heart cold.

“Angel?”

“I’m here.” If only they knew the truth. I hadn’t been legally married for the past four years. It was all a farce and the joke was on me. “Listen, I have to go. Someone’s waiting for me,” I say, hoping he can’t hear the lie in my voice. Mama believes everything I say, but Daddy always knows. I visualize his narrowed eyes though the phone line.

He doesn’t call me on the lie. “OK. Call tomorrow?” he asks.

“If I get a chance.” I get to my feet. “Bye Daddy. I love you. Tell Mama I love her, too.” I end the call and stick my phone into my back pocket.

I make my way to the parking lot behind the building. My vehicle is filled with everything I’ve hauled from Tacoma. Anything I couldn’t bring ended up in a donation bin at the local Goodwill store. I unhook the tarp that covers the cardboard boxes in the truck bed. There are only five boxes of various sizes and shapes, a suitcase, and one duffel bag.

One medium-sized box contains the lightest items, so I grab it first. It takes only minutes to walk the flight of stairs at the back of the building and store my belongings inside. I return and do the same with the second and third box, each one slightly heavier than the last.

I struggle with the fourth box. The awkward shape only lets me put my arms around three-fourths of it. This box should’ve been the first to go upstairs while I still had lots of energy. Planning ahead has never been my forte.

I creep up the steps blindly, since the box blocks my view. Ten more steps, maybe? My foot hits the edge of the step and slides off. “Ah!” I grab the box tight, an error in judgment on my part since the box isn’t going to save me from free falling down the remaining steps.

“Wait,” a female voice behind me demands. Footsteps pound on the metal stairs as she ascends. Two hands rest on the center of my back to brace me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I twist to see Josie behind me. “Trying to make it up these stairs before I drop this box like a Donkey Kong barrel.”

She laughs. “So you decided to go for the apartment. I’m so glad. Have you met my brother yet?”

“Can we talk after you push me to the top?”

She chuckles and pushes lightly on my back. “Go, woman. You have to work with me here. Don’t go fast and knock me down. If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”

I step cautiously to the top of the stairs and put the box down at the landing. “Made it.”

“My brother should be helping you. I’ll get him. He should be home if he isn’t doing his volunteer tutoring at the library. He’s teaching a guy how to read.”

Ah. It takes all my willpower not to quiz her about this. “No, really. I only have a couple more.”

But she’s already walked around me and opened the door at the top of the stairs. “I’m going to get him,” she says without turning. “Don’t lift anything heavy. Leave this,” she says, nodding to the box at my feet.

“I don’t think he’ll want to—”

She pauses and gives me a quizzical look. “What? Leo will rush out here. He’s old-fashioned like that.”

Josie races through the door without another word, and I’m left waiting. I glance to my vehicle. The rest of my belongings are light, so I travel down the steps carefully. I’m aware of a faint soreness in my back that will set in by tomorrow from all physical movement I’ve done today.

The duffel is stored in the cab along with a shopping bag. I grab both and return to the stairs. Halfway up, I hear a faint argument coming from the hallway inside.

“Josie,” the deep voice says. “I’m sure she doesn’t need us butting in.”

How embarrassing. He doesn’t want to help. Josie’s probably dragging Leo, his heels scuffing up the wood floor of the hallway.

I knew there was something off about Leo’s face when I said hello earlier. He thinks I’m going to be loud or needy or nosy. Mr. Expose is wrong. I’m going to be the best neighbor he’s ever had.

I only wish Leo would look happier to see me. He studies me as if I’m a dangerous animal at the zoo, and he’s glad to be on the other side of the cage. He’s such an enigma and too young to be a curmudgeon. Too cute. Too clever.

Also, he volunteers at the library. How many people my age do that? He’s practically ready for sainthood.

My mouth twitches at the corner as I walk the rest of the way up. Not only am I going to retrieve my postcard from his stash, I’m going to get to know him—the guy who volunteers his time. Maybe he’s so crabby because he needs a friend.