32. Humans Are Weird
Humans Are Weird
LILLIAN
Time passes. Both faster and slower than I’d like.
As promised, I have my report to Dr. Harrison by the end of the week.
However, being back in the thick of it reminds me just how nice it was to be away from LA. Just how much I’m really not made for this town. All the cars and wealth and everyone coming and going is so counterintuitive to my spirit.
No one looks up. Not even in Runyon Canyon. They’re all having their insular conversations about the most trivial bullshit, walking their purebred dogs and sipping their Erewhon smoothies.
I don’t belong here. It’s obvious now.
At least I get to escape to PMI most days. I get there early and stay late, even after my report is done.
Speaking of my report, it’s the best one I’ve written.
It’s going over really well with my peers and even Dr. Harrison, despite his clear disdain for me.
Given how good it is, I’m not only applying for grants, but I’m also reaching out directly to institutions, donors, and fellow scientists I admire.
One morning in late October, Trudy knocks on my open door.
“Miss Ma’am, got a minute?” she lilts. Trudy is decked out in the Halloween spirit. An orange shirt with a jack-o-lantern face, white ghost clips in her box braids, and black lipstick to cap off the ensemble. “I’ve just signed onto a new project.”
I lean my elbows on my desk. “Do tell.”
She saunters into my office and sits in the spot across from me. “Coral bleaching in the Great Barrier Reef.”
My jaw drops. “Shut up. You’re going to?—”
“Australia!” she squeals.
“Naur way!” I say in my best Australian drawl.
Trudy cackles. “Can you believe it? I mean, I’ve never gone farther than the Rockies for PMI.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
She grins. “Well, you’re going to be even happier when I tell you they’ve asked me to bring someone else onto the project.”
“Someone else . . . you mean?” I point at my chest.
“Duh, girl! You need a new project.”
It’s not meant to be a dig, but it makes my chest ache.
“Plus, after how your paper has gone over, you have your pick of what you want to do.”
I look out the door to make sure no one is walking past, then say with a lowered voice, “Yeah, well, take that up with Harrison.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s also the boss,” I mutter.
“And that means he is not exempt from us talking behind his back,” Trudy says, propping her ankles up on the corner of my desk and leaning back in her chair.
I glance back at my email. Nothing new has come in. I know it’s only been a minute or two since I sent my last message, but I’m antsy. I’m desperate to make this work. Alaska deserves it.
And I deserve an apology from Naknek.
“Think about it, Lil. It would be incredible, right? We’d get to do science by day, and party it up with Australian dudes at night! I mean, those accents.” Trudy waves her hand in front of her face.
I fold my hands under my chin. “I guess the Alaska project might take a long time to tie up anyway. With looking for grants and waiting to hear back from the government.”
“Right. I mean, you can easily pass that work off to someone else.”
I don’t want to pass it off though. I want to see it through to the end. Although, that’s what Captain Ahab said about killing Moby Dick.
“Or you can do that work remotely. It’s not hard. It’s just a few emails and maybe some phone calls.”
Trudy has a point.
Later, at happy hour in a WeHo bar crammed with all the mirrors the decorator could find, I bring it up to Sarah. She claps her hands excitedly. “The accents!”
“That’s what Trudy said.”
“You have to go. You can find a husband, and then get dual citizenship. You can introduce me to his brother!”
I laugh, stirring my drink with my straw. “We can’t be the sisters who marry brothers. That’s ridiculous.” I try to shake it off. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of not thinking of him. I’ve put a padlock on the door holding all those memories and thrown away the key.
Except no matter how far I throw it, I know exactly where it is. It taunts me.
“Besides, no more mixing business and pleasure,” I say before taking a big swig of my drink.
Sarah flags down the bartender for another glass of wine. “Yeah, about that. When are we going to talk about it?”
“About what?” I don’t need to ask. I know exactly what she’s poking at, but I don’t want to talk about it. Never will, probably.
“You know . . . sexy fisherman.”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me. You were obsessed with him.”
“Not obsessed.” Totally obsessed.
“How could you not be when he chops wood for you naked?”
“He wasn’t naked.”
Sarah narrows her eyes at me. “You know I won’t stop hounding you until you tell me how you’re feeling about it.”
“What’s there to tell? I fell hard, and he turned out to be an asshole.”
“Right . . .”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Right? Don’t be cagey.”
Sarah shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, we don’t know for sure he trashed your cabin, right? You didn’t see him do it.”
“You’re a lawyer, Sarah.”
“So?”
“So. Occam’s Razor. The simplest explanation?—”
“Sure. It’s usually the right one. But humans are weird. They do weird shit all the time. Half of my client list would be subjects of great Reddit posts.”
I’m suddenly very tired. Talking about Matt, thinking about Matt, is exhausting. “What’s your point, Sarah?”
“I just mean, maybe you should talk to him. Get his side of things.”
I don’t know why I have to spell this out. “I left my cabin with him in it and returned to find it trashed.”
“It could have been a bear, right?” Sarah asks, though it’s clear she’s not sold on that idea.
I shake my head. Although, it’s not implausible. “It’s over. Besides, it was just a fling. I mean, we barely knew each other.”
That’s a lie I’ll tell myself until I believe it through and through.
Sarah puts her hand on mine, her eyes boring into mine earnestly. “Will you talk to me about it when you’re ready?”
“Sure,” I say, determined to never be ready to talk.
“Okay. I’m your sister. You know you can say anything. I won’t judge you.”
I snort. “Yeah, right.”
“I won’t actually judge you. Even if I give you a hard time,” she says, lifting her glass. “For now, a toast to your new project, right? Australia . . . that’s exciting.”
I lift my half-empty cocktail. “You’re right. It is.” Another adventure. Which will undoubtedly be followed by another adventure, and another, and another until?—
I don’t want to look back at my life and wonder why I never slowed down. I don’t want to be alone. The last thing I want is to become a heartless institute head like Dr. Harrison.
We cheer, our glasses clinking.
I can only take one day at a time. I can’t let myself be haunted by what-ifs of the future.
Especially not when the what-ifs of the past are chasing me.