18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter 18
By Wednesday, Linda’s tan was two shades deeper, the muscles in her face ached from laughing so much, and she’d designed two new series of templates based on Florida. She’d even drafted a one-page outline of her new business plan for producing and selling physical products. She felt great about where she was and where she was going, despite needing hours of additional research and development.
Though Mason asked, she didn’t share too many details about the new product line. The idea needed more time to percolate. If she shared too much too soon, she was certain it’d flatten faster than a soufflé that had been over-mixed and cooked in a too-hot oven.
Once the sun zapped her energy, she told Mason she was showering to cool off. They’d spent two hours in the sun by the pool. Mason wanted to stay a little longer. They agreed to get together for dinner and a movie at Mason’s place later that evening.
Entering the building, Linda took a left towards Meri’s office instead of the elevator. She knocked lightly on the open door when it appeared that Meri was taking a siesta. Her head was down, resting on her folded forearms on the desk.
“Meri?”
Meridian jerked her head up and blinked rapidly. “Yes?”
“Sorry to disturb you.” Linda hesitated. “Can I come in?”
“Linda! Hello!” Meri gestured for Linda to take a seat, then her hands went to her hair, and she smoothed the ends. She reached for her coffee cup, took a sip, and said, “Blech! It’s gotten cold.”
Meri stood, walked to the counter, and poured the offensive coffee in the sink. She refilled the cup and poured some powdered creamer into it. Linda wrinkled her nose, thankful that Meri’s back was turned.
“What brings you in?” Meri asked.
“Wanted to chat with you for a minute, if you have time.” Linda wanted to snicker, as she’d obviously woken Meri up from a nap.
“I can spare a few minutes.” Meri turned and winked at Linda, playing along with the charade.
“If I run an idea by you, will you give me honest feedback?” Linda began.
Meri nodded as she walked back to her chair. “What’s up?”
“Well, I have a side hustle—”
“What?”
“A side hustle. Something outside of my regular job. I design printables that people buy and download.”
“Oh, I see. Go on.” Meri opened a drawer and brought out a basket of mini chocolate bars. She held it out to Linda, who took a Twix.
“I want to expand my product line and have physical products to sell. With what I create, I see a potential market in gift shops, bookstores, and the like.”
Meri nodded, tearing the wrapper off a Milky Way.
Linda continued. “I spoke to a business owner in Tampa the other day, and she said she would consider carrying my stuff.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah. It is. My question, though…” Linda paused, gathering the nerve to put her big dream out into the universe. “I have an itch to open my own retail store. That’s stupid, right?”
Meri’s face twisted, and her eyebrows managed their own personal wave, like you see at baseball games. “Stupid?” She scoffed. “How you figure?”
“Well, it would cost a lot of money to start. I’d have to quit my day job to manage it. And there’s no promise it would be successful.” She threw her hands up in the air, telling herself it was a lost cause.
“Oh, hon, stop talking yourself out of it before you even begin! Stop the worrying, start the scurrying.” Meri laughed at herself. “What I mean is, figure it out. Find the bite-size pieces,” she said, holding up another mini chocolate bar, “like this! And move forward. How do you eat an elephant?”
“What?” Linda shook her head. “Who eats elephants?”
“You eat them, one bite at a time. It’s a saying for when you get overwhelmed by all the things. You can only take one bite at a time. Focus on the little bites, and after a while, you’ll have eaten an entire leg. Or something like that.”
“Ah. What do you think about the idea of leaving my job? That’s crazy, right? I have health insurance, a great boss, I like what I do…”
“Like? You like what you do? Right there is a reason to chase your dreams! Don’t settle for doing something you like to do. Find something you’re passionate about!” Meri sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Don’t be like me,” she mumbled, looking off into a distance at a life Linda couldn’t even guess at.
The sigh she released spoke volumes about lost dreams and chances. Linda’s heart squeezed in sympathy.
With another heavy sigh, Meri turned back to her and leaned forward, her finger tapping the desk to make her point. “Start small. Try things. Adjust. Try new things. Just keep going. Chase. That. Dream.” Her finger pounded on each word.
Meri smiled broadly, and Linda couldn’t help but do the same. “Thank you, Meridian. That was exactly what I needed to hear. Start small. But start. I’ll figure it out.”
“You will, dear. You will. Keep me updated.”
“I will.”
Linda stood and walked around the desk. She leaned over to give Meri a hug. “Thank you so much for believing in me.”
“I believe, girl. I believe.”
As much as Mason loved going out with Linda, to the festival, to dinner, for a walk on the beach, he loved being at the condo with her even more. Working together in the kitchen, preparing dinner, or cleaning up. Playing cards while they killed time indoors during the scorching afternoon. Or sitting in front of the TV, watching the news or a movie or some silly reality show. It didn’t matter. He loved the time with her, talking, joking, and catching up on the past six years and exploring who they’d become.
Linda’s newly discovered affinity for shows about stewards and deck hands on luxury yachts surprised Mason, but her newfound love of making crepes did not. She had always loved trying new recipes.
He often wondered it if was another way to distinguish herself from her twin. Laurel always whined about doing anything in the kitchen. She preferred playing outside over doing anything domestic.
He told Linda about the highs and lows of his experience as a nurse and as someone who roamed around the country, experiencing a variety of cultures, habitats, and cities. He showed her countless pictures of his various apartments. From his favorite, the “sky rise” in Boston, overlooking the Public Garden and the Charles River, to his least favorite, the “garden” apartment in Baltimore, the only garden view being the small pot of ivy he’d bought a week into his time there to have something green to look at.
When he moved, he took the plant to a patient in the hospital and wished both the plant and the patient a quick road to full recovery. (He’d found he wasn’t the best caretaker for anything growing in soil.)
By Wednesday, he felt they’d made peace with their years apart. Their relationship was on a new, stronger foundation.
He didn’t suggest again that they go to Laurel’s wedding together, but it was always in the back of his mind. She was going. He was going. Why not go together? But after she’d soundly rejected that idea the week before, he knew to wait.
Once the dinner dishes were washed and drying in the rack, Linda ran back to her condo to grab a plate of cookies she’d baked earlier (“We won’t eat dinner if I bring them before,” she declared) and Mason dimmed the condo lights, opened the patio door to let fresh air in—the afternoon had brought a few rain showers and it had cooled significantly—and brought their glasses to the living room.
Linda let herself back in and he noticed she’d changed into the cute pajamas he’d seen her wearing that first morning on the balcony.
“Comfy?” he asked, as he leaned over to grab a cookie from the plate on the coffee table.
“Yes!” she answered brightly. “Ready to veg.” She turned towards the patio door and took a few steps closer, inhaling deeply. “Ah, I love that smell.”
Mason laughed and nodded. “Never gets old. Ready for a yachting marathon?”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, sitting and snuggling in close to him.
Four hours later, Linda was curled up on the large throw pillow on the opposite side of the couch, and his legs ached from sitting. He stood and glanced down at her. She was asleep.
He watched her face for a few seconds. The light from the TV cast a soft pink glow upon her features. The sun had brought out several freckles across her nose, and though he knew better than to mention them to her, he loved them. He wanted to count each one as he softly kissed them.
He hadn’t kissed Linda since Saturday at the festival. He wanted to, but he felt a wall go up around her. Yes, she was fun and flirty, but cautious. He saw it in her eyes; she was wary. He’d asked if he’d offended her or pushed her away. She claimed her mind was crowded with new ideas for her business, but he wasn’t convinced. He told himself to take it slow, but groaned, remembering they only had two more days together before he left for Seattle.
If they ended this week in the friend zone, that would be fine, but he worried that meant there couldn’t be more.
He knew long-distance relationships were hard, but there were lots of examples of them working. He had few close friends, but he had several acquaintances in the traveling-nurse line of work; he’d seen both successes and failures in how they navigated their long-distance romances.
He had two more days to get an idea of where Linda’s head was. Hopefully, she wasn’t entirely preoccupied with work and had an opening for him in her heart.
When Linda awoke, she was lying on the couch with Mason’s arms wrapped around her. Surprise washed over her, but she didn’t feel alarmed. Being held by him filled her with peace.
The TV was on but muted, casting the only light in the room.
She remained still and closed her eyes against the light from the TV. A steady breeze blew in from the Gulf, the fresh scent wafting over her.
Mason’s breathing alarmed her at first. He’d inhale deeply, exhale quickly, then not move for several seconds. But this pattern continued steadily, and she found it comforting once she was used to it.
She dimly remembered Mason shaking her lightly to ask her if she wanted to go to bed. She wasn’t sure if he meant to go back to her own bed or go to his, and she didn’t want to ask.
She shook her head, and he told her to stretch out on the couch before covering her in a light, soft throw. He’d gone to sit in the chair by the patio. She’d seen his silhouette there and wondered why she hadn’t felt him crawl in behind her on the couch.
Must have been sound asleep.
Didn’t matter. It felt nice. Her cheek was resting on his firm biceps, and she lifted her head to see if she’d sweated on him. She ran her hand over his upper arm and noticed the ridge of his muscle. No sweat. That’s good. Amazing arms. That’s better.
Her mind slowly played out the potential outcomes of this. If they woke up side by side on the couch, would it mean something? Would they kiss? Make out?
She couldn’t do it, not a fleeting relationship. She wanted the long-term thing. She wanted endless nights falling asleep on the couch with him. Endless days working side by side around the house, fussing at each other in harmless fun. Endless hours of talking about their day, celebrating each other’s successes and failures.
She wanted what they’d had before, the comfort and excitement of being in love with your best friend.
She was getting the friend part back, and as much as she hoped for more, she’d settle for that for now.
Moving slowly so she wouldn’t wake him, she sat up and paused on the couch. He folded his arms at his side and sighed. That was a good sign. She stood up cautiously and grabbed her phone and two cookies. Late-night snack. She looked at the time: 3 a.m. Early morning snack.
She tiptoed out the door and back to her uncle’s condo, eating the cookies as she went.
Back in her bedroom, she opened the patio door and took a deep inhalation of the cool, damp air. She wanted to bottle this smell and take it back to Illinois with her. The smell, the feeling, and Mason.