Page 44 of The Apparent Trap

But that feeling is short-lived because as I make my way back to my desk, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and see there’s a text from Lee.

I haven’t heard from him since I left his apartment on Thursday. I’m not surprised, though—after everything he said at Thanksgiving, maybe we both needed a breather.

But I guess the breather’s over.

What’s the plan for Sweden? he asks.

I stare at his message. Is he just going to pretend like all is normal? Like things didn’t get so confusing and heated the last time we spoke that we had to specifically agree not to touch each other?

I take a moment to try and think of how to respond.

I wish I could mirror his nonchalance.

Finally, I decide that ignoring is the most mature and rational response. You’ve been on all the emails, I reply, deliberately misinterpreting. You’re doing segments on the Swedish bread mjukkaka, a segment with that forager, and ice fishing. Carmen will be leading them all so it’ll be easy.

I can see him start and restart typing, little dots entering and exiting the screen.

You know that’s not what I meant. Are we really not . . . subterfuging?

Despite all my anxiety over this day, it’s impossible not to laugh. That’s not a word, I respond.

Still determined to avoid, I see, he types, pinning me instantly. I guess I’ll have to make another Trivial Pursuit–worthy plan.

What the hell is this? So much for I wasn’t trying to confuse you.

I plop down in my chair and lean back, closing my eyes. This is all so messy. Just when I’d spent three days mentally detaching, here he is, reminding me that I’m about to embark on the most important work trip of my life that also happens to be a nightmare of emotional land mines.

How am I going to survive being in Sweden with this man who’s seemingly respecting the boundaries we both said were obvious and somehow obliterating them every time I talk to him?

And how am I going to survive more of Carmen and my dad together?

But I can’t say any of that. So instead I just type out: I’m not sure what we can do at this point.

Giving in to the status quo that easily? he responds.

Not giving in, I type back immediately, although I’m unsure how much I’m really capable of doing after so much timidity on my part. But as I said, I need this trip to go well for me—and probably you too if that matters to you. And by the way, Carmen too, which I know *does* matter to you—so that’s what I’m more focused on.

The little dots start and restart again. I wish I was capable of not watching and waiting, but I’m glued to my phone. Finally I get the most unsatisfying response for so much time spent.

Roger that. See you in a few days.

I exhale. I shouldn’t be relieved, but after Thanksgiving the possibilities of what Lee could say seem endless.

The truth is, I do need to be focused on my job here. Maybe whatever Georgia has planned for later will have some bearing on shifting Carmen’s logic. But I really can’t do anything about it in Sweden.

Subterfuge—no matter how pathetic and poorly executed—really doesn’t suit me. As much as I wanted to believe that maybe I could be a little bit more daring and break out of my usual routines, clearly I’m exactly who I knew I was.

Maybe my dad is ready to move forward. Maybe I have to accept that, no matter how bad of an idea this particular version of moving forward seems to me.

I have to keep focused on the trip in front of me. My job is what matters here. The rest I need to put aside.

Even if I can’t stop thinking about the rest.

Chapter 14

Nothing cures a confused, overactive mind as much as a change of scene. Especially when that change of scene is miles and miles of pristine winter wonderland.

Carmen and I arrived in Sweden two days ago, along with our camera guy Amir, and Simon our audio tech. My dad and Lee aren’t joining until later, so we’ve had a few days to hit the ground running and shoot all the segments that don’t include them.