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“Hi.”
My conversation with Mack is fresh in my mind, and I can’t help but think about what happens with my life once I go home. “What do you think I’d be good at?”
“What do you mean? You’re good at a lot of things.” He winks. I roll my eyes.
“Nooooo. Like for work. I’m not sure what I want to do when I go home. What do you want to do? Have you thought about it?”
“I have been, more recently.” As he’s talking, I scoot back on the bed, lying on my side and reaching my hand out for him to join me. He does, mirroring the way I’m lying. The sun comes through the front window and shines in a streak across his shoulder.
“I’m not sure if what I want to do is a job…but I had this crazy idea the other day.”
“Oooh. Tell me.” I bring my hands to my face, and fold them under my head.
Dean reaches out. My eyes follow his fingers to where they run along my charm bracelet from Mack, resting on my wrist. He rubs a few of the charms between his fingers before pulling his hand away and connecting his gaze to mine again. “Well, my degree is in sociology.”
I nod. I knew that.
“I think it would be cool to go spend a few weeks in a new country, learn their history, their cultural norms and of course the best local food places. Then spend the next few weeks giving tours to Americans. Or at least helping current tour guides with translations. I don't know. It’s cool learning about how different people are in other parts of the world. It's something people tend to take for granted when they travel just for famous landmarks.”
“Wow, Dean. That’s an amazing idea. If it’s not a real job, you could make it one. I envy your ability to pick up languages. I heard you talking to the kids you were giving lessons to yesterday. I spent two months at the sanctuary and can only speak Spanish well enough to barely get by. But…didn’t you say the other day you wanted to go back to Oregon at some point?”
“Yeah.” His eyes roam over my face; I’m not sure why. “I would like to have a home base, and I wouldn’t want to be gone the whole year. Being gone too long makes me dissociate from reality a bit, and I miss my parents. They are getting older, and I don’t want to regret not spending more time with them. Sophie too.”
My heart melts at his words. At least once a month for the past few years, I’ve had a mortality crisis imagining life without my parents, and realizing it's inevitable. “I love all of that,” I whisper.I still love you.The thought floods my mind, taking me by surprise. I choose to ignore it for now.
He reaches over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and doesn’t pull away after. “So you don’t have any ideas about what you’d like to do?” His tone isn’t judgemental, just curious.
“Not really. Come up with something amazing for me, like you did for yourself.” I laugh.
“You loved volunteering at the sanctuary, right? Are there paying jobs like that?”
“I haven’t looked into it much since we didn’t have internet there. But the woman in charge, Maria, was talking about how they are opening another location in Spain. And in that weekend class I took, the professor told us about a program they have in Oregon that helps victims of trafficking in Portland. Did you know how prevalent it is there? Most people don’t, but it’s unbelievable. Their building isn’t too far from Eugene, maybe a half hour.”
“If you got to choose, which location would you?”
“Umm…I’m not sure. There are pros and cons for each. I wish there was a way to choose both, but if I had to pick, I’d say Oregon. I miss my parents and Avery, and if I moved home, I’d also be determined to convince Lexy to move.”
“Tell me about her.” His hand moves from my face to my waist, and pulls me in close to him as he listens to me ramble about how great my best friend is.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Theroutinewecreatedcame easily and naturally. Nearly every morning Dean heads to the beach to work early. I wake to a sweet note with some variation of how he can’t wait to see me and to come to the shop whenever I’m ready. Some days I bring a book from his stack on the floor by his bed. Some days I paddleboard while I wait for him to finish working. Every day we surf together for an hour or two before we head back to our place. I love the days as much as our nights together. The groundhog-ness of it hasn’t felt boring at all, even though it’s as comfortable as if we’d been doing it for years. Nothing has felt too serious. He hasn’t questioned when I’m leaving, or asked to define whatever this has become over the past three weeks. I’m glad because I don’t want to think about it, though I know I’ll have to eventually. I’ve been blissfully ignoring everything lately.
Dean’s sitting at the small kitchen table reading, and it’s rare we aren’t attached at home, so I’m taking it as an opportunity to finally respond to Lexy’s text from earlier.
Lexy:Hellooo, Maci!! Are you alive!? I haven’t heard from you in like three weeks!
Maci:I’m sorry, things have been…crazy.
Lexy:Umm, yeah. Mack told me you ran into Dean?! He’s kind of freaking out. What is going on over there?!
Maci:I don’t know…I’ve been living in this bubble, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I feel freer than I ever have.
Lexy:And Dean is in this bubble with you? What’s his deal anyway? Mack said something about him breaking your heart before you two got together?
Maci:Yeah…It was a misunderstanding…Sort of.
Lexy:So you just forgave Dean for hurting and abandoning you?
