She grins. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. I’m pretty happy with how that encounter turned out.”
“Me too. Here’s hoping you never have to talk to that jerk again. She holds up her water cup to toast me, and I meet it with mine.
“Here. Here.”
Mai sets her empty cobbler plate on the coffee table. “So, are you still feeling good about your two-week Malcom-free time? For the record, I still think it was a good call.”
“I’m not sure if it was a good call or not, but I miss him like crazy. I can’t believe how quickly I got to this point. I mean, how many people have you known for two weeks, then missed when your time together was up?”
“I think it would be difficult to find anyone who could make a direct comparison. I certainly can’t. But I see what you mean. I never would have guessed this would happen. Especially to you.”
“Especially to me? Wow.” I lick my spoon clean, then set my plate down next to Mai’s.
“I just mean, you’ve been especially guarded since Ross. And down on yourself. And, I mean, you’re not exactly known for being adventurous.”
“I hike.”
“That’s not the kind of adventurous I’m talking about, and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I grin, because I definitely do know. I like plans and predictability. While I can be up for adventure, it usually takes a bit for me to adjust to whatever it is.
“I’m just surprised that in such a short amount of time he was able to not only get close to you but get you to consider changing your entire life.”
She’s right. This has been entirely unlike me. I made the unlikely decision to go on the trip alone in the first place, and from there I feel like I was swept along in the current of Malcolm not realizing what was happening. I was attracted to him, sure, but it never occurred to me that anything would ever come of it, until it was. I’d been floating along, daydreaming about how great it would be to be with Malcolm, assuming I’d go back home, find a job and continue living my life.
I pull a pillow into my lap and hug it. “This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Mai answers with a shrug. “I guess the question is … is it good crazy, or bad crazy?”
48
Malcolm
Makennaleftherfrogpajama bottoms at my house. Thankfully they’re too small for me to wear around like a weirdo. I also can’t smell them to remember her because they were washed with my laundry. And since they’re breeks, that would also make me a weirdo. I can look at them, though, and I definitely have.
They sit folded on my dresser, and I smile at them as I pull socks from my top drawer. Is it a bit much to say that a piece of frog-covered fabric has saved me this past week? Probably. But they never fail to bring a smile to my face.
I’ve begun to think about this time like Makenna is an astronaut and she’s on the dark side of the moon. There’s no contact, but I know it’s temporary. If actual astronauts can gocontact free on the other side of the moon, surely I can make it two weeks without her.
“Are ya ready, ya slowcoach?” Fiona calls up the stairs. She’s been visiting this weekend and we’re heading to Mam and Da’s for tea.
“I’m coming,” I call as I slide on my second sock.
Thirty minutes later we’re sitting at my parent’s dining table eating steak and ale pie.
“Your dad went to his consultation and scheduled a sleep study,” Mam says, spearing a bite of steak.
Da looks down at his plate and mutters to himself, “Is nothin’ private?”
“Oh good. I’m so relieved, Da,” Isla says.
“Mmm hmm.” Da turns to James. “How’s the potato crop looking?”
“It’s looking like it’ll be a good year,” James answers.
“That’s good,” Da says, then the table descends into silence at Da’s failed attempt to change the subject. They are acting weird; the table is never silent. It’s not like we’re a particularly loud bunch, but there are quite a few of us, someone always has something to say.
