Whereas before, it was just Grey, Sonny and me occupying the planet, now it feels like the whole world stands between us and the future. I’m not sure how to navigate this unforeseen turn in the road.
35
GREY
I’m typically a man of few words, but Everly has been unusually quiet during the hike. I’ve spent months on end on Isle Royale and love the peace, the quiet, and the solitude, but I have heard aboutisland fever. It isn’t an actual illness where someone gets a high temperature. Rather, some people feel isolated from the rest of the world after spending a long period on an island. Maybe she’s experiencing it now. Though her smile is as bright as ever when Sonny sings a song in Norwegian about, you guessed it, blueberries.
When we get back to the cabin, it’s nearly dinner time.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Not especially.” She sits on the couch where she spent the bulk of the afternoon before the hike.
I want to do something to cheer her up.
“Even though I’m officially done with the Blancbourg program, there’s still the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball. Would you like to be my date?”
The corner of her lip lifts. “I’d love to. Sorry, I just had something on my mind.”
If it’s the complicated equation of what comes next for us, I get why she’s preoccupied. We’ve been playing house, but now we have to return to real life and I don’t know what that will look like. We’re like two people awkwardly shuffling in a hallway so we don’t collide, and we keep dancing around discussing plans for the future.
I crouch down. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked about what happens after we leave our little island bubble, but we’ll figure something out. Declan has a private jet that I haven’t cashed my credits in on yet.”
Her eyebrows lift.
“He’s offered me the opportunity to use it numerous times, veiled as generosity if I didn’t say anything about some of his misdeeds.” I wink. “If you’re thinking you’d like to continue to work at Blancbourg, we can fly to each other every chance we get.”
“What about Sonny?”
I rock back on my heels because I haven’t quite figured this part out yet. “Elsie can’t take care of him again. Maybe my mom?—”
Everly’s expression remains blank as though she’s purposefully trying not to show emotion. I know the look all too well since I’m the master of concealment. Turns out, sometimes even from myself.
“We can make it work and the truth is...” I’ve been thinking heavily about my career as the end of the month nears and my time in the Blancbourg program ended, but I’m not ready to bring those words to life. “The truth is, I’m not sure I want to be known as the old grandpa football pro.”
That earns me an upturn of Everly’s sweet lips.
“Forty is not old.”
“Tell that to the rest of the team.”
She cocks her head. “I’d be happy to.”
I don’t think she’s joking.
“You don’t think I’m too old for you? We have a nearly ten-year age difference.”
“Nope. I think it’s just right. Minus #BruiserButt, I prefer a mature man. Someone ready to settle down. Have a family. Who knows who he is? But I have to ask, where is this coming from?”
“I don’t know who I’ll be without football.”
“Greyson Adams, husband, father, Hall of Famer. Gardner, chef, hot Viking love lord.”
I burst into laughter.
“I spent some time LARPing in college.”
“I sure like getting to know you and I like the sound of that.” I link my fingers with hers. “What about you?”
