Birding with Benefits

Chapter 31

John knew exactly what to expect from Celeste if they won the Bird Binge. There would be jumping and screaming, probably high-fiving of everyone in the place. Thinking about the pure joy she’d be sure to display had kept him focused on the birds in those final days, even as Celeste flitted ahead of him on the trail, her hips begging for his hands. He knew he should want to win for himself, and for the publicity and validation it would give him. But as soon as Celeste had spotted that first bird in the blooming palo verde six weeks before, he’d wanted to win for her.

He’d never even thought about how she would react if they lost.

Beside him, Celeste was quiet and still, shoulders folding inward as Francine and Jose took the stage. She blinked rapidly, as though waking from a disorienting dream.

Her daze only lasted a few seconds before she released his hand and clapped appropriately, a perfect smile draped on her lips. Reluctantly, he lifted his hand from her knee to clap as well.

John waited for a pull of regret as he contemplated how things could have gone differently. He could have stayed out of the contest altogether, as he’d been inclined to do. Or pursued an expert partner, all but guaranteeing a win. He could have taken more control of his outings with Celeste, speeding them up and focusing on the count instead of on discovery.

But the regret didn’t come. The Bird Binge had been not just a wonderful time but a profound reckoning, reminding him why he wanted to guide in the first place, and a real-life boot camp in bringing someone new into the hobby.

And as Francine and Jose stepped onto the stage, Jose waving like royalty, relief unspooled in John’s chest that it wasn’t him up there. He’d never liked the spotlight.

Francine grappled for the mic as Jose laughed beside her. But next to him, Celeste pushed back her chair and stood. When John caught her wrist, she stared at his hand, then his face, and shook her head slightly. Leaning into him, she whispered, “I’m just getting some air. It’s stuffy in here. I’m not leaving. I’ll—” Her swallow was practically audible. “I’ll make sure to say goodbye before I go.”

As she slipped away, John caught a glimpse of her sandaled feet—toes a bright azure blue tonight—heading up the stairs to the second floor of the museum.

An elbow to the side from Chris brought him face-to-face with his friend, eyebrows drawn in.

“She’s just getting some air,” John said quietly as the program onstage drew to a close.

“You okay, buddy?” Chris pushed his shoulder into John, his face softening.

“Yeah.” Around them, people left their tables to raid the buffets of snackable foods. “You can’t ever predict the numbers.”

Chris laid a hand on John’s forearm, leaning in. “That’s not what I mean. I know Celeste cared a lot more about winning than you did. I’m asking if you’re okay about”—he glanced to the stairs where Celeste had fled—“that. This is supposed to be the end of the casual thing, right?”

“Right.” John studied the empty staircase as Chris’s fingers drummed on his arm. Often, when the world around him was noisy, John’s mind was a refuge where his thoughts moved at their own pace. He liked to sit in the calm where he could study them as he would a block of wood in his shop or a bird in a tree.

But tonight nothing quite made sense. He wanted to hover near Celeste as much as he knew he should walk away from her, wanted to push them past the boundaries they’d drawn as much as he wanted to retreat and settle into the known space he was building for himself.

“Right,” he said again, rubbing one hand across his beard.

“Seems an awful waste.” Chris’s voice held none of his normal teasing or bravado. “To throw away something like this because of an agreement you made weeks ago.”

“It’s not throwing away. It’s—” He sighed. It was letting go. The “something like this” they’d had was a thrilling, lusty thing. It had been fun and stimulating and much, much more than he’d expected. But it was always meant to be like that—a firework they both needed to ignite. He didn’t know how to capture that and make it real, not without asking them both to take the risk of being burdened with all that old baggage.

Chris eased back, watching John carefully. “Your brain’s really going, huh?” When John only nodded, Chris motioned back to the stairs. “She looked sad. Maybe she needs a friend.” A smirk rose on his lips. “Should I go check on her?”

John knew just what he was doing, and it worked like a charm. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ll go.”

But just as he stood, Breena appeared at their table, her fingers twisted together in front of her stomach.

She shrugged, forcing a smile. “Hey, at least we both lost, right?”

When John and Chris just stared at her, Breena inflated her cheeks and blew out, tipping back on the heels of her black boots. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute, if that’s okay. I’m going to therapy and trying to be… happier. And coming to terms with some stuff, and so…”

Her eyes shifted back to the ground.

Chris, now standing beside John, made a choking sound, half gasp and half laugh. “Whoa. Should I leave you guys alone?”

Breena’s shoulders slumped slightly before she looked back, dark eyes tracking from John to Chris and back again. “You’ll probably enjoy witnessing this, and my behavior affected all of us, so…” She only shrugged. Chris, never one to miss a dramatic moment, crossed his arms over his chest and stayed put.

She looked back to John, taking a big breath. “I’m sorry.”

John raised a hand to his beard, tempted to look behind him, to whomever she was talking to. “Okay.”

Breena never apologized. It was something he’d found intriguing when they’d met. She carried confidence like no one he’d ever known, and he’d wanted to see inside her to see how it worked. It had occurred to him only recently, seeing Breena react to Celeste, that her confidence might be at least in part simply bravado.

Breena sighed. “Are you going to ask what for?”

John shrugged. A long time had passed since he’d expected anything from Breena other than frustrated disapproval. But tonight there was a crack in her armor he’d never seen before, so he asked, “What for?”

“I’m sorry for kissing someone else; that was wrong. And I know after that you didn’t trust me, and maybe you didn’t believe#8230;.” She looked up from the ground and caught his eye. “But nothing else ever happened. With him or anyone else. I messed up, I know that. But I wouldn’t have messed up that bad.”

He’d stopped asking himself those questions months ago, but the answer loosened something in the back of his brain. “Okay.”

Chris shifted next to him but stayed silent. John watched the staircase again, hoping to catch sight of Celeste. Morgan’s show was underway; Celeste wouldn’t stay much longer. And she’d promised to say goodbye.

“Also”—Breena cleared her throat—“I know when we were together, I wasn’t always very nice. I know, as a person, I can seem cold.”

She pulled nervously at her cuticles, just like she used to before a big exam.

Her words poured out like they’d been rehearsed more than once. “I know I put pressure on you when we were together. Bugged you about school and work and everything. And I wanted to tell you that I think sometimes my attitude toward you was just insecurity on my part. Like, when you didn’t want the same things I wanted—to do the doctorate, to publish, to get noticed like that in your field—I felt bad and greedy for wanting it so much. Like there was something wrong with my ambition.”

“Breena—” John moved to interrupt. They’d always had different visions for what they wanted, but that hadn’t been her fault. Yes, she was serious, focused, intense, and wildly ambitious. But there was also a fire and an energy to Breena that were contagious. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

“I know that was never your intention,” she went on. “I know you supported me, but I just felt so insecure that I ended up lashing out at you about it and acting like you should want something other than what you did. And I’m sorry I did that.”

For months after John had asked Breena to move out, he’d wanted these words from her. Hiking for hours, he’d poked and prodded at the nagging need to hear her take blame, for anything at all.

So it was a shock to realize he didn’t need it anymore. Somewhere in his woodshop or on the trail in these past weeks and months, he’d recovered a part of himself she’d made smaller, until her opinion of him now barely registered at all. And in some of that space he’d taken back, he found himself with room to see her more fully, even if just a little.

Chris blew out a loud sigh, reminding John he was there. “Holy fuck, B.” He scrubbed at his hair. “That’s some therapist.”

Breena laughed, her brown eyes catching a flash of the museum’s fluorescents. Chris and Breena had been close once, their big personalities playing off each other like a comedy act, before Chris had sworn loyalty to John after the breakup.

John took a risk and reached for her hand. They hadn’t touched in over a year, but the shape of her hand in his was familiar. “Thank you.” Her lips parted, but she didn’t pull back, so he gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re brilliant and ambitious, and those are great things about you. I never meant to make you feel like those weren’t good qualities. I just didn’t always share them. I think”—he squeezed her hand again before releasing her—“we just weren’t a good match, and we didn’t know how to let it go.”

Breena cleared her throat, blinking fast. “I’m sorry I was sort of a bitch about Celeste. I knew you’d move on someday, but I didn’t expect it to be so in my face, and… someone so cheerful brings out something different in you.” She closed her mouth, shaking her head, but then continued. “And if I could give you a little unsolicited advice, from someone who’s been there? Sometimes people need to hear you, John. What you want and what you need, and when something is wrong. Don’t expect Celeste to be a mind reader, okay?”

John nodded numbly, suddenly heavy with guilt about the game he’d played, letting Breena think Celeste was his girlfriend. He opened his mouth to tell her the truth, but what could he say? He couldn’t honestly say that none of it was real. And if it was all ending tonight anyway, it hardly mattered.

But he knew one thing for sure. He’d rather be with Celeste than hashing out the past with Breena. “Thanks, B. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He made a move for the stairs but turned back to Chris and Breena, who were standing awkwardly side by side, looking down at their hands. “You two should be friends again,” he blurted. “You were close once and—” He looked at Chris, who was still struggling to fit himself into the mold of academia. “Chris could use a real friend on campus, somebody who gets him.”

Chris struck a sassy hands-on-hips pose, but he was smiling. “Who even says I want to be her friend again?”

John shook his head with a chuckle. “You want to be everyone’s friend.” And since Breena hadn’t walked away, he thought there might be hope for the two of them to rebuild the connection they’d once had.

But that would be up to them. Meanwhile, a tug in his chest pulled him toward the staircase, and he headed up to find Celeste.