“I’m just reiterating for the record.” I looked up at her. “For what it’s worth, I love that you’re independent. You don’t need someone to take care of you. You’re capable of taking care of yourself. But you’re letting me do it anyway, and that’s,” I stopped and searched for the right words. “That’s a gift. You’re trusting me with your vulnerability. That means everything.”
Maya's eyes were suspiciously bright. “Okay, you need to stop saying romantic things while cooking. You’re not even chopping an onion, so I can’t blame it on that. It’s not fair.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true! You’re supposed to be one or the other.”
“One or the other what?” I asked.
“Practical or romantically eloquent. You can’t be both.”
“Watch me. I was raised with sisters. They’d have my hide if I didn’t treat my female right.” I grinned and pointed to the knife. “Remember that ceremonial rug? They’d turn me into one.”
She laughed, wiping at her eyes. “I’m in so much trouble.”
“Good trouble?”
“The best trouble.”
I finished the omelets and plated them with toast and fresh fruit, the last of what I’d bought before the storm hit. We’d need to figure out groceries soon. The roads would probably be clear by tomorrow, maybe the next day at the latest.
The thought made my chest tighten. Once the roads were clear, Maya would leave. She’d go to her apartment in town, start her new job, and begin her new life. And I’d come back here to my cabin, my isolation, my carefully controlled solitude.
Except it wouldn’t be solitude anymore. It would just be lonely.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” Maya said around a bite of omelet. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. This is perfect.”
“Geoff.”
I sighed, setting down my fork. “The roads will be clear soon. You’ll need to get to your apartment, settle in. I know the landlord’s been understanding but I can’t keep you here forever.”
“Would that be so bad? Me staying here forever?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“I’m not saying I should move in, not now at least. That would be insane. But,” she stopped and took a bite of her breakfast. As she chewed she set her fork down and met my eyes. “I don’t want this to end when I leave. I don’t want to go back to being voices through a headset.”
“Maya, I live twenty minutes outside of town on a mountain. You’re starting a new job, making a new life for yourself.”
“Twenty minutes isn’t that far. People commute farther than that.”
“I’m not asking you to commute to see me.”
“You’re not asking me anything. That’s kind of the problem.” She reached across the island, taking my hand. “Geoff, last night was amazing. This morning is amazing. You’re amazing. And yes, we need to figure out logistics and take things at a reasonable pace and all that practical stuff. I know we already said you want to try, but do you really want us to make it?”
“Reasonable pace kinda went out the window already. Of course I do. Maya,” I squeezed her hand, probably too tight but unable to help it. “I want everything with you. I want dates and sleepovers and to introduce you to my friends. I want to show you my favorite hiking trails and teach you how to cross-country ski. I want to meet your friends and take you to that restaurant in town that Everest won’t shut up about. I want all of it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to be selfish. You’re just starting your life here. The last thing you need is some Yeti in the mountains demanding all your attention.”
“First of all, you couldn’t be selfish if you tried. Second, I’m an adult who can manage her own time. And third,” she stood, walking around the island to stand in front of me. “I want to give you my attention. I like giving you my attention. You’re my favorite person to pay attention to. You’re my best friend.”
I pulled her between my legs, resting my forehead on top of her head. “I’m terrified of messing this up.”
“Join the club. I’m terrified too.” Her fingers threaded through the fur on my head, gentle and soothing. “But we’ve been friends for three years. We know how to communicate, how to work through problems together. This isn’t any different.”
