Page 29 of Wish For Me

“What?”

“Yeah. In Thailand. He said he was ‘finally following his calling’. He moved to an ashram in rural Southeast Asia two years ago and comes back once a year to visit their kids.”

“Wow. That’s kind of terrible. The leaving his family part, I mean.”

“Would have saved all of them a whole lot of heartbreak if he found his calling before starting a family, don’t you think?”

“If he knew what it was back then.”

I shrug, slightly tormented by this story. I don’t know why I told it. Maybe to remind myself I’m doing the right thing by pursuing my own dreams in lieu of other things.

The server comes then to ask if we want anything else. We don’t. But we didn’t make any plans for after this. When we’re done—Leif having laid down a not-insignificant amount of money for a gratuity since we’re not paying a bill—I sit back, playing with the necklace I put on on a whim tonight.

“Is that special?” Leif asks.

I look down. The necklace is a simple gold clover on a chain. “It’s just a trinket. But yes, I feel like it has.” I think about tonight, and how amazing it’s been.

“Does it bring you luck?”

Does it?All of a sudden a great sadness hits me. Because Leif is amazing. This nighthasbeen amazing. But in a few days it’ll be Christmas, and after that we’ll both be heading back home. A couple of weeks from now, I’ll be back in New York starting the rest of my life.

This is all we get.

“I’m not sure if it’s lucky or not,” I say honestly. I force a smile onto my face, but I can’t help the wobble in my voice. I don’t know why I’m sad. I need to remember the good things, right?

“Being sad is okay too,” he says.

How is this man so perfect? And why are our lives so misaligned?

“Well, I guess I should tell you my news,” I say finally, forcing myself to brighten.

Leif nods. “Yes. But let’s do it somewhere else.”

I frown. “What are you thinking?”

From the way he grins, like he’s excited to show me something, I feel like he has a very specific plan. “Come on.”

Five minutes later, Leif opens the door onto the roof of the Rolling Hills with a key fob he pulls out of his wallet. All adult family members have one, he explains, in case they ever need access.

But as we step outside into the crisp winter night, my eyes go wide, because there, at the edge of the roof, close to the side of the hotel that overlooks the river, is a wood deck that’s been cleared of snow. On it sits two Adirondack chairs, slung with huge downy blankets and pillows. Holiday music plays from some hidden speakers nearby.

“Leif, what is this?”

“I called in a favor.”

I remember Leif’s aunt now, telling him everything was all set.

I’m so touched I’m trying not to tear up. “Your aunt owed you a favor?”

“No, my cousin Jack did. He’s the CFO, and he’s dating the events planner. This is very much her jam, apparently. All it cost me were a couple of NASA pens.”

At my raised eyebrow he says, “She collects pens, apparently.”

There are more surprises when we get to the chairs and get bundled up. An electric cooler rigged to keep things warm, and inside, a ceramic jug filled with mulled wine. A plate of Christmas cookies are also inside, warm and buttery on my tongue.

I lean back, sighing, mug of spiced wine in my hand. The lights of Quince Valley twinkle down below. Everything about tonight has been magical.

And it should make me thrilled. It does, but something painful sits in my chest, too. The knowledge that this is just one night. It’s like getting all my wishes granted, knowing it’s all going to get taken away.

---