His comment warms me. “Well, I don’t either, but I can admire a hot body when I see one.”
He chuckles, tossing whatever he’s holding into the air. “Fairbanks,” he says. “That’s where I was going before Graham died.”
“What’s there?”
“The Northern Lights. It’s the best place in the United States to see them. Someday, I’ll go to Norway too, but Fairbanks was my starting point since I can drive there.”
I smile fondly. “That would be fun.”
“And romantic, so you’re definitely coming with me.”
“I might be able to get a job up there.”
He turns to face the camera. “Really?”
I nod. “Might take a while, but yeah. Positions occasionally pop up in Fairbanks.”
He considers it, eyes never leaving mine. “That would be amazing. Just the two of us for like, six months.”
“Well, and our cats. And the horde of plants we’re going to adopt. Actually, scratch that. Your motorhome is full already, so we’re not adopting any more.”
He laughs, then goes up on his elbow to look around. “I don’t know. I think I can fit a few more. There’s still room on the floor and maybe over there, on my dresser.”
I burst out laughing. “Jordan! God. You have so many already. You should just move to a jungle. Then you’ll have all the plants you ever need.”
“Nah. Too many bugs.”
“If we went to Alaska, we’d have to get one of those UV lights. Not only for the plants. For us, too, since it’s dark there for a good portion of the year.”
“True,” he sighs. “Probably wouldn’t be good for my depression.”
“Hey, you don’t know that.”
He reaches for Clematis before lying down, facing me. She settles in against his chest, blinking slowly.
“I get so jealous every time you do that.”
“What?”
“Hold Clematis like that. Lily doesn’t let me. She tolerates it for like two seconds, then runs off.” My voice drops before I add, “Sometimes, I really need it.”
Jordan gives me a sad smile. “Me too, hon. But let’s talk more about where we’d go. Where would you be able to get jobs?”
19
JORDAN
When I arrive at the psychiatrist’s office the next day, I am a few minutes late to the appointment. I had a hard time getting out of bed since I couldn’t sleep. Too many questions swirling in my head. The sharp scent of disinfectant and artificial lavender gives me an instant headache, and my leg bounces relentlessly in the hard gray chair. All around me are posters about mental health and suicide awareness.
They don’t help. They only remind me of why I’m here. Why I don’twantto be here.
I want to message Miles as I wait, but my hands are too sweaty to hold the phone. I haven’t even looked at it all morning, lost in my head. But I crave his support more than ever.
After the nurse checks me in and takes my vitals, she promises that Dr. Briggs will be in shortly. My attention remains fixatedon the door, the urge to leave almost overwhelming. But I don’t. Iwon’t.
Ineedto see this through. Not for Miles’ sake or anyone else’s. For my own.
Finally, Dr. Briggs walks in, dressed in all purple except for her white coat. Her smile instantly calms me, like it always does. She has one of those peaceful auras that surrounds everyone. It helps me trust her.
