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"Is that why you were able to scatter your mom's ashes?" Brant asks.
"Yeah. I think it was. Something was always holding me back from doing it, and I did leave it to the last minute, but it finally felt right.Ifelt right."
"And how much of this change is due to Wilby, do you think?"
"I'm not sure, Dad. I won't give him all the credit because if he ever found out, he wouldn't let me live it down, but I can't deny that it's a lot. Wilby is…" I let out a happy sigh as my head fills with fragments of memories of our time together. "He's like no one I've ever met."
"So where do things stand now?" Brant asks, shuffling in my dad's lap to get comfortable. "You guys are keeping in touch, right?"
"Yeah. Sort of?"
"Sort of?"
"It's starting to drop off a little. Which makes sense. We're both busy…"
I stop talking, not wanting to finish that sentence, hating the fact that something as pathetic and mundane aswe're both busyis the reason Wilby and I are shutting down communication.
"Do you love him?"
Dad's question hangs in the air.
I bite my lip and nod. "I do. A lot. I know it's fast. Super fast. But it's real. I swear. It's so fucking real."
"We can tell," Dad says, his eyes filled with warmth.
I drop my elbows onto my knees and sag forward, staring at the floor. "I want to be with him. I need him. I love him. I fucking crave him."
Brant pushes to his feet and huddles in front of me, tapping my knee. I look up and stare into his familiar face.
"I know you should never tell someone what to do because if you do and they follow your advice and it turns to shit, it's a whole big mess. But I'm demanding a universal karmic exception from that for this very moment."
I frown. "What are you talking about?"
He gets up and starts dramatically pacing the length of the living room, like the born performer he is. "I'm talking about telling you what to do. Although, it's not even me telling you as much as it is pointing out the freaking obvious thing that you should do, that you probably want to do, but for some unknown reason, aren't doing."
I look over at Dad, and he lifts a shoulder, like he has no idea what's gotten into Brant, either.
Brant's eyes dart between the two of us, and he lets out an exaggerated, exasperated groan.
"Really? Jesus, you Langdons. Do I really need to spell it out?"
I lift my hand meekly. "Yes, please."
He shakes his arms in front of his body. "Take the damn job in Australia already. Jesus, it's the obvious solution."
"Wait. You, my best friend, are telling me, no, ordering me to live on the other side of the planet?"
"Not forever, obviously. I will personally hunt you down if you stay for more than a year or two. But try it. See what it's like. And then, once you've had more time together, you'll figure out a way to make it work."
"Since we're making karmic exceptions…"
Brant and I angle our heads to Dad.
A smile brews on his lips. "Why not make it a surprise? Don't tell him you're coming down, just do it. Because…romance."
"Awww, baby." Brant strides over and sinks into his lap. Dad's hands wrap around Brant, and they kiss.
I tap my fingers against my knee. "You know what? I think you guys are right."
