The dumpling place was cheap, fast, and nearby.
Order for me. I’ll be over as soon as I can.
I got us each a double order, and while I hovered at the counter, watching the guy ladle the dumplings into the hot oil, Chelsea entered, waved, and grabbed us a table in the back room.
When our food was ready, I carried the tray over and slid into the wooden booth. I wanted to tell her all about my day, but food first. I grabbed my chopsticks and shoved crispy, delicious fried dough in my face until I couldn’t eat anymore. The whole ceremony took about three minutes. Then I leaned my head against the wall behind me and processed everything that had happened so far.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s putting that blissful glow on your face?” she asked, poking at her food with more thoughtfulness. She was always such a slow eater, savoring every bite. “Was Evan at the station?”
At that question, I scrunched my face. “No need to remind me about him.”
“Sorry. You just look like you’re walking on cloud nine. How’d the first day go?”
“It’s not over yet, but it went so well.”
“Yeah?”
“Despite all my fears and every reason I should have failed, I successfully helped run part of a newscast.Me.” I wasn’t sure this would be a longterm career, but Shelby had been right that my many part-time jobs had taught me valuable skills.
“And you’re surprised? Of course you rocked it. What have you ever failed at once you put your mind to it?”
Love, I wanted to say. Romance.
The draft of my novel sitting on my hard drive.
But I let her pet me and said, “Maybe this was my big break. Maybe despite years of advice to the contrary, it just fell in my lap.”
“Well, good for you. Alas, I’m on my feet all day long, so I have no lap to catch falling things.”
“Just hot Greek chefs.”
“Pish.” She waved away the very suggestion.
“When we go to”—I searched my memory for the last place we’d talked about traveling—“Martinique? You’ll be in the lap of luxury.”
“I shall lap it up.” She sipped her soda. “Do you think you’ll be able to get time off still? Have you asked about vacation?”
Shit, I hadn’t. “I get paid leave. I suppose I can go ahead and see about January.”
“Paid leave.” She sighed. “No wonder you’re walking around like you won the lottery. I bet you even get sick days.”
“I’m going to have dental insurance.”
“My God. Stop. You’re killing me.” She gathered the trash and stacked it on the tray.
“You know, you could easily have these things too.”
“I know. But it would feel like defeat.” Chelsea’d never taken a corporate gig for her graphic design work because she wanted the illusion of freedom to leave Charlottesville behind. Not like she ever would. Like me, she was mired here. Maybe because of me.
“It wouldn’t have to be forever.” I stood, carrying the tray to the bin. “You don’t always have to think in terms of all of nothing.”
“I know.” She followed me to the door. “But I’m not ready to wave the white flag yet.”
I leaned in to give her a hug. “Things are going to look up. For both of us. I know it.”
She was both the toughest cookie and the most frightened child I’d ever known. And as messy as she could be, I loved her with my whole heart.
She pulled away. “Who needs a man when I’ve got you?”
