A year ago right now, I was wondering why everyone who said they were going to call me had fallen into a black hole. I think I knew why, because they didn’t want to tell me over the phone, but I didn’t let that thought cross my mind.
But I knew when the police officers walked into my office and asked my name. I’m pretty damn good at denial, but really. There’s a limit.
So. A year later. Hope is an orange belt. We meant to start her in karate when she was five–honestly, we’d planned that since before she was born–but we didn’t get to it. We went as far as investigating a few schools. Chris was going to take it with her, and I was going to have a few hours of my house to myself every week.
Now Chris is gone, and I’m testing for my orange belt this month. I never, ever, have my house to myself. I don’t take classes with Hope, she spends the whole time hanging on me and neither of us learn anything. I get up alone and I come home to an empty house and I go to sleep in an empty bed.
Okay, that’s about enough of that. Rafe and Taro are very, very close to the end, I need to go do that. And I need to shave the dog today. In case you’re wondering, that is THE job that he left me, that I hate the absolute most.