An instantly recognized voice shouts out my name – both my first name and my last. I bookmark my page and look up, ready to hear what world Jessica has made for herself since she tore the last one down and then turned up to tell me about it.
“I saw you on my first day back and now on my last day.”
“You’re moving again?”
“I’m going to California for a three day job, and I’m going to check things out down there.”
“And you might stay or you might come back,” I suggest.
“I might stay and I might come back. When I do come back, I’ll call you. I always do.”