Page 95 of Good as Gold
“I’ll give my notice at the gym in November,” he says. “Lookin’ forward to working outside all winter.”
Yup. He’s perfect. I reach my hand across the table to shake. “Welcome aboard, Jeffrey. Pleased to have you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Another grin.
Cara comes out of the office to gather up the paperwork and walk Jeffrey to his Jeep. She’s friendly and animated. Her smile looks genuine.
I don’t really know how she’s doing it, because I can’t muster the same enthusiasm.
In three months, this place will be covered with snow. The picnic table will have our insulated coffee mugs on it, along with our helmets and gloves.
Mine and Jeffrey’s, I guess.
But it should be Sean and me standing here together, greeting the first customers of the season. I can’t believe I have to do this without him. Every day, seven days a week, all season long.
I don’t know how Cara gets up in the morning. I really don’t.
She waves to Jeffrey as he backs out of his parking spot. And then she heads for the office door, stopping to give me a curious look. “You okay?”
“No,” I say grumpily. “What kind of a question is that?”
She gives me a sad smile. “He’s a good kid, Matty. He’s going to do great. You hired a winner. And I like that guy you interviewed yesterday, too. He’ll be another good addition.”
“Yeah,” I say without enthusiasm.
I’m right on schedule with the work. Everything is falling into place. And I feel nothing.
“Jeffrey just told me thebestnews—his new wife is pregnant.”
Something goes sideways inside my chest. “Oh? Why do we care, exactly?”
She rolls her eyes. “Because he’s going to stick around all season. You know how it usually is with these guys—if their buddy plans a trip to the Chugach Mountains, they vanish overnight. But not our Jeffrey. He needs the paycheck. Baby needs new shoes.”
“Yeah. That’s, uh, great.”
“Damn right. Now have a cup of coffee and call that event planner from the mountain lodge—she’s trying to book that corporate trip in February? There’s a sticky on your desk.”
“All right. Sure.” I follow her into the office and take my seat behind a beat-up desk.
This place isn’t fancy inside, because customers rarely come in here. We spend all our investment dollars on the helicopters and the safety equipment—the stuff that really counts.
I find the note with Cara’s scrawl on it and take out my phone. My first action is to check for messages from Leila. By now, it’s like a tic. We text each other rarely. She has a busy life. I have a busy life.
But I miss her terribly, and I can’t stop wondering how she’s doing, and if she went back to the fertility specialist.
It was my sister who’d asked me—if you could snap your fingers and give Leila the life she wants, would you? And I’d said yes, without hesitation.
Doesn’t make it easy to stop loving her, though.
* * *
When I next hear from Leila, she doesn’t mention a thing about babies. I wake up one morning to find her text.Happy birthday!It’s accompanied by a complicated gif of a snowboarder jumping off a layer cake.
Hell, I’d forgotten my own birthday. The date had completely slipped my mind. I’m thirty-seven, which sounds ancient. I feel older, if that’s possible.
Maybe I just didn’t want to think about it, because Sean and I had a birthday ritual. He’d take me out for donuts, and we’d usually hike or snowboard, depending on whether there was snow yet.
On his birthday, we did the same, but in reverse. Every year. Never missed a donut.
