I nod, though she can’t see me. “Of course. What’s up?”
“I hate San Francisco.” Her accent returns to normal. “I miss the mountains.” She sighs as she says, “What’s wrong with me? This is my dream. I’ve always wanted to be a reporter. I’m writingfront-pagearticles for the freakin’ Chronicle. I know people who wouldkillfor my job. Heck, I’d have tripped someone for it four months ago.”
I laugh though I know she’s not meaning to be funny.
“What don’t you like about it?”
There’s a shrug in her voice when she says, “I miss the little, small-town stories. I miss connecting with the people. I miss the heart of it all. The editors here want hard lines and facts. I just, I don’t know, I miss home.”
I hear her, but I’ve never been good with advice. Half the time I don’t even understand myself. I mean, ten minutes ago I was spiraling over the absence of a freckle kiss.
“Trust me, you’re not missing anything here. It’s snowingagain, and I’m pretty sure the high today is like negative twenty degrees. Maybe you should come back for a visit, remind yourself what’s really here. Besides, aren’t you dating? Holden mentioned something about that. How’s the new guy from the strange new city? What’s he like?”
She laughs under her breath. “I went on one date with a guy from my office. He’s a senior editor and, umm… yeah.”
“What? What’s wrong with the senior editor guy?”
“Nothing is wrong with him. He’s nice enough. He just,” I hear the shrug again, “different from what I’m used to.”
“But that’s good, right? You wanted different.”
“I thought I did, but now I’m here, and I… I don’t know. I miss the big, rugged type, ya know? The kind of guy that’ll build me a shelf from scrap lumber and carries a pocketknife.”
I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing. Alice spent years dreaming about the city, and even longer wishing she were writing for a big-time newspaper. Actually, I’d say it was more than a dream. She had a vision board hung on the wall in her living room with cutouts from magazines and inspirational quotes she found online.
“But the editor has good qualities too, right? I mean, he must be really smart, and I bet he owns something other than flannel.”
“For sure,” she sighs. “He’s also super accomplished and loves talking about it. Tons offun-factsabouteverything,and he enjoys correcting me. Like, on our first date, I mentioned how the restaurant had opened in 2018 and he had to make sure I knew it wasactually2017. Then he went on a twenty-minute rant about the history of the city and the buildings surrounding our office.” She groans loud enough that I’m pretty sure I feel the heat of her sarcasm through the receiver. “It was fascinating.” She pauses. “I don’t know. He’s nice… it’s just that… he’s not my type. It made me miss an early morning fishing date or a picnic on a tailgate in a field somewhere.”
“So… come home.” My voice softens as I speak. “Your cabin is still for sale. You could swipe it right off the market and I’m sure the Gazette would take you back considering they’re running on a two-person team and always looking for help.”
She huffs under her breath. “Yeah, I’ll be back as soon as I figure out a way to avoid Wyatt in a one-street town barricaded in by mountains.”
“He’s working out of town a ton lately. And when he’s not working, he’s holed up in his cabin playing grumpy old man. I bet you guys would barely see each other.” Even I don’t believe what I’m saying. I’ve spent so many late nights talking Wyatt out of flying to San Francisco to hijack Alice’s new life. I can’t imagine what madness would ensue if he knew she was back in town. It would open a floodgate to all kinds of crazy.
“What’s he grumpy about now?”
“Same old stuff. You know Wyatt.”
“I do,” she says softly, as though she’s thinking over something she isn’t saying out loud. “So, he’s not dating?”
“God, no!” I laugh. “Even if he wanted to, no one could stand him long enough to date him. I think you were the only one crazy enough to give him a chance.”
She sighs, and I get the sense that she’s relieved. “He wasn’t always this guy, but you know that.”
“Oh God, you’re not thinking about Wyatt still, are you?”
“What? No. I just… I don’t know. I’m in a weird headspace right now. There’s a lot going on.” Her words are clipped again, as though there’s something she’s not telling me, but I don’t want to push her. I’ve known Alice since we were young. We bonded over a lot, including how our parents both died young. She’s the type of person who needs time to process through things before she talks, though I can’t imagine what else would be going on out there. She told me a lot already.
“I’m here when you’re ready,” I say, clicking the end of a pen as I talk.
“I know,” she sighs. “I’m always here for you too, which is why I should’ve shut up and asked how you’re doing?”
I laugh. “I was wondering when you were gonna quit.”
“I bet,” she chuckles low. “So what’s up? How is everything?”
How is everything? Well… I think over all the things that happened this morning, none of which I can actually talk about. “I’ll have to catch you up on all my drama later. I’m getting a call from one of the guys. You know how they are. Can’t do a thing without me.”
