“I think it went good… since I got the job,” I tell her.

I then hold the phone away from my ear when she screams, and then I hear my dad in the background ask her what’s going on before I listen to her relay my news. “Your dad wants to talk,” she says, and I can tell by her tone she’s smiling.

“Congrats, honey. I’m proud of you,” Dad says, and my heart gets warm.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Love you. Come see your old man soon.”

“I will, and I love you too,” I murmur then listen to the phone being jostled.

“I knew you’d get it!” Mom shouts, coming back on the line.

“Mom,” I laugh, following Dizzy as he heads farther into the park with his nose to the ground.

“Stop it. I get to be excited. You’re finally moving home. Are you going to stay with us while you search for a house? Please say yes, please?” She asks question after question without taking a second to breathe, making me laugh again.

“I think I’ll stay here until I find a place in town.”

“You could have your old room back.”

“I love you and Dad, Mom, but no way. Anytime I’m home, Dad turns the clock back and I’m suddenly sixteen again, having a curfew and asking for permission to go out with friends.”

“I could talk to him,” she insists, making me smile. Mom has been talking to my dad about giving us girls space to become women since we turned thirteen, and it’s never worked.

“I’d rather not move more than once,” I say softly so I don’t hurt her feelings. “Besides, before you know it, I’ll be around so much you’ll be sick of me.”

“I’d never be sick of you.” She huffs, and I know she’s annoyed she didn’t get her way. “When do you start your job?”

“Probably three weeks or so. I need to give Dr. Brandsaw a few weeks’ notice to make sure he’s able to find a replacement.” I work as a nursing assistant at a small clinic here in Nashville, and I’ve been there since starting school. Dr. Brandsaw has been great about working around my school schedule and giving me whatever time I need off. I just don’t know how he will feel when I tell him that I won’t be working with him any longer, now that I’ve graduated. My long-term goal is to work as an ER nurse, and unfortunately, I won’t be able to do that if I stay with him, which means it’s time to move on to the next chapter in my life.

“So I have to wait an entire month, if not longer, for you to move home,” she says, sounding disappointed.

“The time will fly by, and in the meantime, you can help me find a house. I just sent Michelle a message letting her know I’m ready to start looking. I want to find somewhere with a backyard so I can put in a doggy door for Dizzy. That way, if I’m working, he doesn’t have to stay inside.”

“I can help you with that,” she replies, sounding excited once again. “They’re building some new townhomes just down the road from us. They look nice. Maybe we can check them out next weekend.”

“That sounds good,” I agree, even though I’m not sure about living in a townhome. After spending years in apartment complexes, it would be nice not to share a wall with anyone. There is nothing more annoying than hearing people going at it when your sex life is non-existent, or people fighting nonstop.

“What kind of house are you looking for?” Mom questions as Dizzy finally finds the perfect spot to take care of business.

“I don’t have a huge budget, but I want something with at least two bedrooms, so if I have company, they have a place to sleep. And a backyard for Dizzy.”

“I’m sure we will find the perfect place, and if you need your dad and me to loan you some money, w—”

“No. Mom,” I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. My parents paid for my schooling. I never had to worry about that, which was a relief, but I don’t want to live off them forever. I want to make my own way in the world. It’s something that is really important to me.

“You’re just like your father, so darn hardheaded,” she grumbles, and I smile, taking that as a compliment. “So what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Right now, I’m taking Dizzy for a walk, and I might see if Willow wants to get dinner tonight, and maybe see a movie.”

“You girls have fun, and I expect to see you this weekend. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I hang up after she does then dial my sister.

“Hey,” she answers, sounding half asleep.

“Are you sleeping?” I ask, wondering how that’s possible when she’s supposed to be at work.

“Yeah, I’m sick. I think I have the flu.”

“Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“I just want to sleep,” she mumbles, and I laugh.

“I’ll bring you over some soup in a few hours.”

“You don’t need to do that,” she mumbles then continues. “But if you insist, can you make it hot sour soup from Pot Stickers?”

“Sure.” I smile. “Get some rest. I’ll be over later.”

“Okay.” She coughs as she hangs up.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket then follow Dizzy around the park for another half hour before leading him home. Once we’re back inside, I head for my bedroom and kick off my heels, trade my slacks for a pair of yoga pants, and my blouse for a tank top. Grabbing a sweater, I put it on then tie my hair up in a ponytail.

I call out to Alexa as I head across my living room on bare feet and wait for her to light up. I ask her to shuffle songs by Ed Sheeran so I have something to listen to while I clean up the kitchen and run the vacuum. I hate cleaning, so I try to stay on top of it, but between work and school most days, I’m not up to it. That is one thing I do miss about living with Willow; I never really had to cook or clean. She has always been obsessive about keeping things tidy, which meant everything was always done before I had a chance to pitch in, and dinner was always ready when I wanted to eat.

After I vacuum and put away the things that have gathered on top of every flat surface over the last week, I go in search of my cell phone so I can call in the order for Chinese food. Seeing a text from Michelle on the screen telling me that she will start searching for a house as soon as she has my budget, I text her back and tell her my max spending limit, and then I dig through my junk drawer for the menu for Pot Stickers. I find it in the back of the drawer under all the randomness that has been shoved in there since I moved in.

Once I’ve called and placed my order, I hang up and look at Dizzy, who has made himself comfortable on top of one of the fury blankets I have lying across the end of the couch. Placing my hands on my hips, I study him, and he lifts his head then tips it to the side. “Do you want to go see Aunt Willow?” I ask, and he jumps down off the couch, runs to me, and starts to spin in a circle at my feet, proving once more that I gave him the perfect name.

“All right, come on.” I head for the hall, grab his leash, hook it on his collar, and then pick up my keys and purse. As I open the back door to the car, he hops in then jumps up into his doggy car seat, knowing the drill. Shutting the door, I get in behind the wheel. After I pick up the food from the restaurant, I head to Willow’s. She lives in a small two-bedroom house on a tree-lined street just outside the city. She bought her house when we parted ways. She didn’t want to rent again, and I totally got that. If I hadn’t been in school and knew I didn’t want to move closer to our parents after I graduated, I would have bought too instead of renting.

Parking in her driveway, I get out, taking our food with me, and then open the door for Dizzy, who jumps down in a hurry to get out and explore. I snatch up his leash before he can get away then lead him up to the front door. Using my key to let myself into the house, not worried about walking in and finding a random naked man inside.

Willow, just like me, hasn’t had a guy in her life for a while now. In the love department, we haven’t been very lucky. I don’t know why Willow hasn’t settled down, but I know I’m too picky when it comes to men I want to spend my time with. I also know I should probably lower my standards. I just won’t. I want a man who is like my father, a man who is strong, who knows who he is and is okay with himself. I also want a man who wants me beyond reason. My father worships the ground my mom walks on, and I want that. I refuse to settle for less. Hence why I’m still single. Men nowadays (at least the men I’ve met) are wishy-washy with their feelings. One minute, they can’t get enough of you, and the next, they are claiming you’re suffocating them. Personally, I’d rather be alone than put up with that kind of unnecessary emotional bullshit.