Page 77 of Falling Slowly
“And how exactly is it best for me that my mom doesn’t know what happened?” Her voice rose a bit.
“Think about it,” I urged her softly, sitting on the rug next to her chair. “Gran has been playing a bit of a matchmaker.” I winced. “She gets a message late at night that we’re lost in the forest but safe. What does she think?”
She blushed. “Well, she’s not far off, is she?”
“No,” I admitted. “So, she’s excited and wants to let things play out.”
“But it’s not like my mom was going to barge in.”
“No. But she will. And we’re safe now. We’ll be back to the retreat soon enough. Do you want her here? If you do, I’ll call her myself, right now. But I think Gran wanted to give you the choice.”
“But she lied to me. To us. She said she told my mom.” She huffed, gently moving her swollen ankle, her hand protectively around it. “I was so relieved.”
“Which, again, was her goal, I bet.” I shrugged apologetically. “And she relayed the message that you were okay so your mom wasn’t worried, either.”
She huffed, but I noticed that angry, hurt look beginning to thaw.
“Gran traced the cell signal,” I continued. “She figured out our approximate location and organized a family friend to canvas the area with a helicopter.”
Bess’s jaw went slack as she stared at me. “Really? A helicopter? For a couple of fit, young people spending a night in a hammock?”
“My family sends helicopters for less,” I said. “John was probably on the way to his cabin. Searching for us would have put him an hour out of his way, tops.”
“Is he a local?”
“Someone we know from here; from the time we still had the cabin.” I stared out the window, at the mountain range ring-fencing the secluded farm. Mountains high enough to stop clouds in their tracks and change the weather. A constant presence. “I miss that place.”
“I’m sure you could buy a place up here if you wanted. How much do those cabins go for?”
I hadn’t even thought about it until she said it. “How much money do you think I have?” I chuckled.
She blushed. “I don’t know. I’m so broke I think everyone else is loaded, sorry. I have no idea what real estate costs uphere, or even in the city. It’s one of those things that’s so far out of my reach that I don’t even try to keep up. I tell Celia it’s gazillions, every time she asks.
“She asks about real estate?”
“She asks ‘Can we buy that house?’ or ‘Can we live in that house?’ and I have to explain that we don’t have a gazillion dollars.”
I cringed at the thought. I didn’t have cash at hand, but I had investments I could pull. If I really wanted to buy a cabin in the woods, I could swing it. Something she saw as unattainable was very much attainable for me. I waited for the familiar urge to shop, to find the perfect cabin and buy it, but nothing ignited in me. The cabin felt meaningless, unless it was for her. With her.
My phone pinged with other missed phone calls and messages. I skimmed through them, catching up on work and sending quick replies to Trevor and Lee, making sure I didn’t hold up any jobs. I checked my investments and noticed I’d made five grand on a wild bet. I thought about riding it out to see if I could make more, but as my gaze snapped back to Bess, my fingers itched to cash out. Five grand could probably cover her rent for a while. Why was I risking it for a quick thrill?
As I sent through the sell order, another message pinged. It was from the office and made the hair on my neck bristle like I’d plugged myself into a socket. My eyes scanned the text in a frantic hurry.
…restructuring … economic downturn … refocusing our priorities…
It was the warning shot. The first cue before the redundancy packages were rolled out. Bess would be on that list.
Anger fizzled in my chest as I thought about my father, casually flicking through an email like that on a Thursday afternoon. He’d promised to wait until next week to announce the job cuts, but apparently the panic-stirring couldn’t wait. Andhe was probably hanging out at the golf club as his staff worked themselves into a frenzy. In a way, I felt grateful to be far away. But he had no idea how much him jumping the gun messed with my plans.
I needed more time. Could I stop Bess from checking her email? Her phone was useless and there was only one charger, so it made sense for us to charge mine first. Maybe I could delay the inevitable until I had a chance to talk to her. Why hadn’t I done it in the forest?
“Are you okay?” Bess asked. “What is it?”
I tried to relax my face. “Nothing. Stupid work stuff.”
“That campaign?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “But it’s okay. Once we present your ideas, they’ll change their tune.”
