Chapter 42
CALLUM
The weather in Edinburgh is cloudy and rainy, and I try not to think of that as an omen. Not that I’m one to believe in such things, but I’ve been calling Asha Wee Sunshine this whole trip, and now I’ve flown from sunny Italy to rainy Scotland.
Is this a metaphor for my future? A life without her shining down on me is intolerable. A life without being able to love her, watch as she gets more and more absurd, is intolerable. As is how maudlin she’s made me, so I’m in a lose-lose sort of situation.
The whole thing is affecting Asha too, which makes me mad. She’s not made one joke since we landed. Not one wee chuckle.
Her backpack is still absurd, but she’s wearing solid colors…and those colors are black and gray.
Who is this woman?
This mix of anger and concern may not be the best frame of mind to approach a meeting with the boss where my future is at stake. But there’s nothing we can do about it now, as we’re getting off the tram and making the silent walk to the office, the only sound our suitcases rolling on the sidewalk.
“Last chance to leave all of this and go find some ruins to squat in for the rest of our lives,” I say, standing in front of the office and looking at the charming medieval building that doesn’t carry any of its charm into the interior decoration.
I try the joke since she’s still unwilling to fulfill her proper role in this twosome.
But also, if she wanted to run off and live in history, I would take her up on it in a second. To have all my favorite things together would be heaven. We would at some point have to figure out how to make money or how to live off the land, but that would be a problem for later.
“If I liked camping just 5 percent more, I would take you up on that.”
There’s my Asha. There’s the woman I love.
“So, where are you at now, then? Percentage-wise.”
“At forty-six. I would need to be just over 50 percent, then I would be down to camp for the rest of my life to avoid this conversation.”
“Fair play.”
She pulls my arm so I’m facing her instead of staring up at the office building. “Let’s promise to not let this affect us. Whatever happens isn’t up to us and shouldn’t stop us from doing…whatever this is. Right? Pursuing it, I mean.”
I want to say yes to her. And I would be able to if she gets the job and I don’t.
But will it be fair to her to hold her to that if I get it?
Will she secretly resent me but stay because she loves putting on a happy face?
She does that with the tour, or used to do that, where she would people please to the extent that she wasn’t taking care of herself.
I don’t want to force her to do that with me, when all I want is for her to be happy.
“No need to decide anything right now. We have time.”
Her face falls, but I don’t want to lock her into anything that she might regret later. I’m halfway to quitting before the meeting to get this over with. I won’t ever be as good at this job as Asha is; I won’t ever love it as much.
The only thing keeping me here is fear. Fear of what else I would do. Fear of trying again for my dream and failing. Fear of not having rent money. Or Asha gift shop money. She does not like expensive things, but she does like a lot of things.
But those are not good enough reasons to stay. Well, the rent one is probably fair.
“No, you’re right. It’s not smart to decide anything right now.” She tries a smile, but it’s the dimmest I’ve ever seen from her.
“But that doesn’t mean I—”
She’s already through the door before I can finish my thought. Which was going to be me saying how much I wish we could commit to starting something now. And that I care about her.
“Let’s get this over with, then.” I follow her through the doors and up the stairs, getting to the door first to open it for her.
“Thanks,” she says, sailing past me like we haven’t spent the last few nights together.
“Hiya, guys!”
“Hey, Vihana.” Asha greets the receptionist with slightly less than her usual cheer. I wonder if anyone else can tell that she’s off.
“How was the trip?” Vihana asks. The Scottish-Indian woman has always been nice to me when I come to the office, but I wish she would be a little less considerate this time, because that is a sore topic.
“As always, best trip ever.” The words are vintage Asha, but I don’t know how Vihana can’t tell that her tone is far from 100 percent cheerful. A cry for help coming from Asha.
“Good. Fingers crossed about the job. For both of you, even though I know that’s not very practical.”
Well, that answers the question of whether anyone else knows about it. But Vihana is office staff. Of course she would have insight into Rob’s plans.
“Do you know which way he’s leaning?” Asha asks.
“No. But he’s been collecting the reviews throughout the whole trip. He gave the group a discount to report regularly on you guys,” Vihana says.
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Asha looks queasy.
“It was a small one, so who knows if they actually did.”
“I have a feeling some of them did a few nights ago, at least.” She looks at me and I can read the worry on her face, but she’s back to looking at Vihana before I can respond to it. I don’t even know if she wants to let our coworkers know about us, so I can’t even offer her my arm in comfort.
Very frustrating on all fronts.
“Rob isn’t here right now. He stepped out to deal with some emergency or another. He told me to tell you he still wants to have the meeting when he gets back and to ask you to wait for him.”
“Grand.” Sounds like Rob, inconsiderate with everyone’s time but his own. “Did he say when that would be?”
“No. You know how Rob is.”
Yes, I do. Unfortunately.
“There are digestives in the break room, if you’d like,” Vihana says.
“Thank you. I haven’t eaten since this morning.
” Asha rolls her suitcase past the desk and then through the maze of cubicles for the office staff, including the sales and marketing teams. She stops and says hi to most people, recalling details of their lives that I’ve never even known.
Because she cares about people who are from this century. People who are alive.
We sit in silence in the break room, eating biscuits to avoid conversation. After about five minutes of that torture, five minutes that feel like an eternity, Asha stands up.
“I’m going to pop around to my flat and drop my bags off,” she says. “I’m not too far, and Rob can deal with it if I’m not here, since he’s already late to this meeting he called.”
I get it. She doesn’t want to sit here is silence while we wait for news on our fate. Professionally and personally, it’s excruciating.
“That’s a good idea. I’m too far, so I’ll stay here.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I’ll be here.”
Not that I want to sit here alone, waiting for Rob and Asha. It was somewhat less bad sitting in silence with Asha. No matter how awkward that was, at least I got to look at her.
I suppose I’ll make myself some tea and wait for everyone to come back.