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Gray
It really is summer here, a shock to my system, like I traveled through time instead of space. Jonah told me to go to the beach, but I don’t have the stomach for it, not without him in shorts and bare feet running around, coming back with God knows what tide pool creature in his hands to show me.
I’d say,Are you sure that’s supposed to be out of the water?
And he’d say,Oh shit, God, I’m sorry little guyand sprint off to put it back.
“Gray?”
I blink, turning from the window in the huge, empty office. “Sorry.”
My potential future boss, Gregory, smiles. “As I was saying, this would be yours, with the view of Sydney Harbor.”
“I’m not sure I can make a decision based on a view, but if I could, this would be it.”
We both laugh dutifully at the expected professional banter, but Gregory seems like a thoughtful, genuine man. He just spent an hour over lunch talking nonstop about his vision for the company, barely stopping for breath, and everything he said excited me. A perfect balance of teamwork and independence, all centered around the desire to help people who have fallen on hard times. My tired soul wants so badly for this to beit, the right place, the thing I was made to do.
“We’d appreciate a lawyer of your stature here, especially once we get you caught up on the Australian legal system,” Gregory comments on our way down the elevator. “I know you just finished a tough case, but we recognize talent and passion when we see it. I think you have the vision to help me shape this place into something special.”
He taps my shoulder, and I realize I was just standing there, staring at my reflection in the metal wall. “Sorry. Thank you.”
“You’re probably jet lagged as hell," he offers graciously. “Get some sleep and we’ll see you in the morning to give you a view of how the firm operates.”
I’m so exhausted I can barely see straight, but all I have to do is show my cab driver the hotel address Jonah carefully printed out and stuck into my bag. Skipping dinner sounds tempting—the rich smells coming from the hotel kitchen make my stomach turn—but I’ll be speaking to Jonah in a minute and I know I can’t lie to him when he asks. I order a salad to be delivered to my room.
I barely look around as the door shuts behind me, not even bothering to open the curtains or switch off the air conditioning before I connect my phone to the internet and video call Jonah. It rings so many times I start to wonder if I missed him, and my heart twists around in my chest like an animal in a trap. He finally connects, sitting on the edge of his bed with his Kansas State hoodie pulled up around his ears, eyes puffy with sleep.
“Wow, you’re already up and dressed.”
He groans. “I know. It’s not even a real farm but we get up farm-early most of the time. I forgot how much it hurts.”
“Is this your room?” The wall behind him is so very Jonah that I would have known it anywhere, hung all over with every interesting or beautiful thing he’s ever found: turtle shells and boomerangs and strange craft projects made of yarn.
“Yeah.” He glances around a little awkwardly, then spins the camera in a circle. The room barely has space to stretch out your arms, the ceiling coming down at two sharp angles like he’s at the very top of the house. “It’s me-sized; you wouldn’t even be able to stand up.”
I wish so hard it hurts that I was there, crammed into a dimly lit attic room on a twin bed that smells like dust and laundry detergent. With him.
I expect him to ask about Australia, but he goes quiet, staring blankly at nothing like he’s even more exhausted than I am. “How are you?”
His eyes wander back to my face. “It’s weird being back here. I still love it, but it’s really, um…” He laughs without actually smiling. “Really straight. And really lonely.”
“It’s just a visit.”
“Uh-huh.” He looks down at his lap. “I had a long talk with my parents, and I’m definitely coming back here to run the family business, sooner or later. When I told my dad how important it was to me, he agreed to let me try. It’s different from New York, but I guess that’s the benefit of being bi, huh? I can get back with a girl if I need to blend in.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Sorry.” He squints out the window, rubbing his forehead. “How was your meeting today? Is it a good job?”
“It is. It has everything I’d be looking for as a next career step, with a lot more stability.”
“And it’s fucking gorgeous there, isn’t it? Summer all winter.”
“And winter all summer,” I remind him, but he shakes his head with a small smile. Something isn’t right. His fight has been leaking out of him since the injury, one day at a time, and I realize far, far too late, with a stab of panic, that I should never have let him go. Not like this. “You’re coming back to New York, right, Jonah? Before you decide about moving to Iowa.”
“Unless you stay in Australia.”
“I’m not.”
