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“Do you remember when the developers built those condos behind us?” he asks. “You were so sad because Dad liked to look at the trees while he drank his coffee in the morning, and you worried the deer wouldn’t have anyplace to go. Theo was just happy he’d have fewer leaves to rake up.”
I laugh through the fog of feelings. This is the most extensive letting-her-down-easy I could possibly imagine. It is both incredibly tender and incredibly awkward. “Well, it’s a non-issue. I’ve never been into Theo. But I’m sorry if what I said made things weird.”
He reaches up, scratches his cheek, and I’m having a hard time looking away. I never get to be this close to him. He has light stubble, but it looks soft. I can make out at least four different shades of green in his eyes. When he licks his lips, it does something electric to my pulse.
“I guess that’s what I’m saying. Had I known it was a—” He stops and seems to chew on his words. Meanwhile, my brain is a nuclear reactor, melting down. Had he known it was a what? “I’ve always really admired you,” he starts again. “You’re one of the few people in my life I hope I’ll be close to forever, and I didn’t want things to be weird after the tree farm.” He glances at me, his face illuminated. “I wasn’t sure if I responded the way I should have. I was really surprised when you said it.”
“That’s okay. I was surprised when I said it, too.”
He grins. “It took a lot of bravery to tell me how you feel, though, and I just wanted you to know—” He gestures between us. “It won’t change this.”
I know exactly what he means—we’ll be the same as we’ve always been—and of course I’m grateful for that.
But even though I never—not in my wildest dreams— imagined he would share my affection, when he says this I am consumed with rejection. I mean, of course the entire point of telling him how I felt was so that nothing would stay the same.
“Let’s move on,” I say, pushing forward.
Andrew laughs. “Okay, good idea.”
“You can travel anywhere, where do you go?”
He doesn’t even have to think about this conversational pivot: “Budapest. You?”
“Besides here?”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “Yes, besides here.”
“Okay, fine.” I mentally scroll through postcard images of various locations, feeling vaguely uninspired by my own game. “No idea. Maybe Hawaii?”
“You have the entire world to choose from and you go to Hawaii?”
“What’s wrong with Hawaii?”
He shrugs. “It just feels so easy. What about Tahiti? Mallorca?”
“Sure, they sound nice.”
Andrew laughs. “Okay, it’s settled. With that attitude, I’m in charge of all of our future travel.”
The words settle heavily between us, and we both go still.
“I made it weird,” he says finally, grinning over at me.
I burst out laughing, relieved that this time it wasn’t me.
“You totally did.”
Our laughter dies away and silence engulfs us. I don’t know how to read the mood. I told him how I felt, giving him an opening to reciprocate, but he didn’t. And yet . . . there’s a strange understanding blooming between us.
“Okay, I have an idea,” he says. “No speaking for five minutes. Let’s just look up at the tree together.”
“And hope we don’t get our faces eaten off.”
He bursts out laughing again and then wipes a hand down his face, saying playfully, “God. Why can’t you ever be serious?” He wipes at his eyes. “Okay. Five minutes.”
I follow his lead and focus on the tree. “Five minutes.”
As odd an idea it is, it’s also brilliant. It saves me from having to think about what to say, which is good, because my mind is a mortified blank sheet of nothing.
For the first thirty seconds or so, I feel like I’m drowning in the sound of everything else in the room and the contrasting quiet between us. But then the stilted awareness dissolves, and I can focus on the lights, the dangling gold ornament just to my right, the laminated picture of Theo and Andrew as little kids hanging on the branch nearby. I can focus on his warm, easy presence next to me. Andrew’s arm presses along the length of mine and we just lie like that, breathing in tandem.
His stomach growls, and it makes me giggle again, and he shushes me. I turn to look at him, and he’s already looking at me, and with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, he lifts his finger to his lips and whispers, “No talking. I just want to be under the tree with you.”
chapter fifteen
December twenty-second. Still here.
And today’s theme—Sled Day—is my favorite. Unfortunately, I can imagine a million ways the universe might give me a failing grade and send me back to the start: An enormous tree branch on my head. A boulder thrown in my path. Comedic music as a backdrop while the camera captures me— the lone holiday tourist—caught at the center of an avalanche.
