“Hey,” she says absentmindedly as she sits down on the couch.
Leaving my desk, I walk over and join her. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms. She looks like she could use a hug, but when we are at work, we try to keep the small levels of affection we show in private to a minimum.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” I ask instead.
She waves her hand through the air. “I’m fine.”
Somehow I know she’s lying, but I also know Iris. She won’t tell me anything unless she’s ready.
“So travel…” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, Jamaica and then London.”
Her eyes widen for a split second before they go back to normal, making me wonder if I imagined it.
“Two different climates. I hope you are ready for all my bags,” she jokes.
“If I’m not used to how much shit you travel with by now, we have bigger issues than I thought,” I deadpan, making her laugh.
“You aren’t wrong, but I would like to point out that I don’t travel with as much as I used to.” She grins.
“Thank God for small favors,” I tease.
The woman used to travel with two checked bags plus a carry-on and a backpack. Why she needed that much shit was beyond me, but to each their own. She has gotten better, though, and she doesn’t bring as much home with her from our travels anymore either.
After our trip to Melbourne, Australia, though, I always make sure I have extra room in my bag, just in case…and that happened five years ago.
“We are going to be gone for a while. Is your dating life going to be able to handle that?” I can’t help but ask.
I need to know if she is dating anyone else. It has consumed all of my thoughts. I know she said things with Pete didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t found anyone else.
“Yep. Don’t worry about it. My dating life won’t affect work,” she mutters.
“Hey, that’s not what I meant,” I try to explain, but she shakes her head.
“What’s the goal in Jamaica?” she asks, getting us back on topic.
“We need to approve designs, and there is a hold-up with one of the permits. Our site manager thinks it might be good if we go in person ourselves.”
Iris nods. “That shouldn’t be too bad. Then what’s the plan in London?”
“Annual check-in,” I lie.
Next to Boston, London is the city we visit the most, only because I know it’s her favorite. The first time Iris and I went to London together, she was like a kid in a candy store. She became obsessed with it. She loved going on the Tube, the markets, and everything that came with the city.
She is her happiest when she’s there, which means I take her as often as I possibly can.
I’ll do anything to make her happy. To make her smile. Even if she doesn’t know it.
“Sounds easy enough.” She nods.
“Regret taking this job yet?” I joke.
Iris rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t.”
We talk for a few more minutes, and when we are done, we sit in silence. Neither of us wanting to get up and get back to work. When I went to Mason and offered to change jobs with him, I knew this job would stretch me thin. I just didn’t realize how drained I would become.
All the traveling and peopling is mentally and physically draining.
