Chapter 46
46
Lucy
“Look! It’s gold.” I wave my hands in front of my new MacBook, Vanna White style, and Dexter smiles through the phone screen.
“Looks nice,” he comments. “It’s one hell of an upgrade.”
I nod enthusiastically. “I’ve already uploaded my pictures in it.”
“Have they reached out to you again?” he asks, silently referring to Elevate Media.
I shake my head. “Not yet, but Ryan said it would take some time before someone contacts me. They probably have to draw up an actual offer letter and everything.”
“Well, hopefully they don’t keep you waiting too long. It feels like they’re doing an awful lot of pussyfooting while you’re just waiting for them to call you.”
“I know,” I say glumly. It’s been a bit frustrating, waiting for Elevate to get back to me, and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t bothered me one bit. I’m eager to get things going. And a part of me feels like they might change their mind. What if they have some time to think things over only to realize I’m not the one they want to offer this job to?
“How was your first day back at Mr. Bean’s?” he asks, changing the subject and pulling my thoughts away from those lingering doubts that never seem to disappear. While waiting on Elevate to get back to me, I put a hold on any future job searches. And since I still need to pay the bills, I reached out to Mr. Bean to see if I could temporarily have my old job back. He gladly agreed. Apparently, the last guy he hired to take my place broke the espresso machine on his first day and burned his hand on the steam wand. He quit after a week, leaving Mr. Bean short-staffed. I’ve been telling myself I didn’t circle back to square one, I’m just waiting on Elevate, but with each passing day, it’s been a little difficult to stay optimistic.
“It was fine,” I answer. “A little busy, but nothing new. Just the same old coffee shop I worked at three months ago.”
I nod, and he does too. And we look at each other, the silence lingering between us, reminding us for the hundredth time that he’s there and I’m here. It’s been like this between us. Drawn out FaceTime calls, meals eaten together through a screen, quick text messages throughout the day because we miss each other and the only way to communicate with the distance and time difference is through missed messages with hours between chats.
Our silence is interrupted when Jeremy saunters into the room, his demanding meows equally obnoxious and cute. He hops up on my bed where I’m sitting, and his snout enters the screen, where Dexter greets him.
“Hi, Jeremy.”
Jeremy paws at the screen at the sound of his name before nuzzling his head into my hand.
“He’s been a little clingier since I got back,” I inform Dexter, leaning down to kiss Jeremy’s nose. “But I’m not complaining.”
“You know, I never thought I’d be jealous of a cat. ”
I laugh even though all I want is to pout. Dexter catches on to my somber smile, and his face changes into something more longing.
“How many more days until your visit?”
“Nineteen.”
“Are you seriously counting?” I laugh.
“Of course!” He stands from his comfy spot on his bed, walking toward a calendar hanging on his bedroom wall. Sure enough, there’s a row of red X ’s marked for the month and when he flips it, I see a big red circle on the day he’s flying out to Seattle and a few scattered hearts surrounding it.
“You’re so cute,” I comment through a blush.
“Some find me more irresistible than rainbow marshmallows.”
I giggle, and he laughs too. “So what’s for dinner tonight?”
He reaches from behind the screen and procures a small paper bag. “Onion rings from The Lunch Car.”
“And a milkshake?”
“Of course,” he answers, holding up a disposable cup. “You?”
“The girls and I had a little movie night yesterday, and Margo brought over couscous,” I say, holding up a small glass bowl. “So I’m having the leftovers, plus some chips and salsa.”
“Nice,” Dexter comments. He reaches into the bag and pulls out an onion ring before taking a large bite. He’s eating dinner a little late and I’m eating a little early, but we’re making these sacrifices. Sometimes it’s something as menial as a meal eaten at odd hours and sometimes it’s a slightly bigger cost, like losing hours of sleep or making excuses at work to prioritize our FaceTime calls.
“Cheers,” I call, tilting my Coke can toward the screen at the same time he angles his milkshake toward me. He grins at me before taking a loud slurp. I smile through the screen and think for a minute that maybe this isn’t so bad. Yeah, we might not get to see each other in person, but this is kind of nice for now while we adjust to this new norm. It’s a temporary fix, and eventually we’ll be in each other’s arms. In nineteen days, to be exact.
The next few weeks continue, but the text messages and phone calls between me and Dexter grow fewer and fewer with each passing day. I pick up more shifts at Mr. Bean’s to fill my time and start to refine my resume when I still haven’t heard back from Elevate. I continue my life, joining Annabelle, Margo, and Alma for our usual weekend brunch and the occasional late-night bar hopping. I empty Jeremy’s litter box and rewatch episodes of Supernatural while hunting down nearby Thai food places to curb my constant pad thai cravings.
Nat and Hayden called me from Maui, where they’re spending another week feeding alpacas and visiting the botanical gardens before heading back home from their extended honeymoon. I filled Carmen in on how things were going post-internship. She continued to poke and prod about Janet and Dexter, asking if I was still talking to him. When I told her things between me and Dexter were sort of irresolute, she gave a troubled hum through the phone, followed by silence. It felt like she was taking the impartial side, not wanting to give advice that’s too biased or inclined toward a path I may regret, but I could feel her concern through the words she chose to hold back.
I spoke to Dexter just last night. He’d gotten in late after taking Janet to her doctor’s appointment. He looked so tired and stressed, and he barely had the energy to talk to me. Apparently, the doctor’s visit didn’t go too well. After some more tests, Janet’s doctor agreed radiation therapy would be the best way to go now that her chemo sessions were coming to an end. It wasn’t news—her doctor had forewarned her before she even started chemotherapy—but everyone was hoping radiation therapy was one she could forgo, including Dexter. This all meant more waiting, more treatments, more time being sick instead of being healthy.
I keep reminding myself I have to be patient. As soon as Dexter comes to Seattle, we’ll be able to plan more visits. As soon as I start working with Elevate, we’ll be able to decide how often we’ll see each other with my new work schedule.
As soon as things get settled.
As soon as…As soon as…As soon as…
My heart sinks as I realize how there will be no end to these “as soon as.” Because as soon as I start working with Elevate, Dexter will be elbow-deep in Janet’s treatments. It’ll only keep him in Brooklyn, while I have my own set of responsibilities that come with a new job. And then what? What happens to us?
All of this morose ruminating has been making my mind spiral. I’m starting to feel the distance between me and Dexter, and I can’t tell if it’s my mind playing games or if he’s really growing further and further apart from me. What if he’s gotten used to the idea of not having me around him all the time? In the next room or just a few steps away. What if he really doesn’t mind that I’m not there anymore? Maybe he’s even gone as far as realizing that all of this, our emotional back and forth, trying to stay connected through technology, isn’t worth his time anymore. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for all of this to crumble with nothing left but my broken heart.
My wondering and contemplating are cut short when my phone buzzes in my hand, and my face lights up when I see Dexter’s name flashing on the screen. I accept the call, switching over to FaceTime, and am welcomed by Dexter’s tired face.
“Hi,” I chirp through the phone .
“Hey.” He sounds so weary and disheveled. His hair, now grown back to his old length, is rumpled, evidence he’s been running his fingers through it. There’re bags under his eyes, and the line separating his brows doesn’t seem to relent, no matter how badly he tries to brighten up his expression.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “I mean, no, not really.”
“What happened?”
He hesitates before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Uh…Lucy, I hate to do this…”
I hear, practically feel, the other shoe drop.
“But I don’t think I can make it out next week.”
And there it is. Thunk. “Oh.”
He sighs and buries his face into his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he says hoarsely.
“I mean, it’s fine. Is everything?—”
“Look, I’ve got to go,” he interrupts, sounding a little distracted. I was about to ask him why he had to cancel his trip, a little worried it may be because of Janet, but he’s been so open about any changes in her health, I feel like he would’ve told me. Or at the very least, he wouldn’t shut me down like this.
“I’ll call you soon. Okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.”