โAre you excited for yourย first day of work tomorrow?โ
I abandon my wrestling match with an IKEA box to look at Jamie. Sheโs standing in the middle of my brand-new living room in my brand-new apartment, hands on her sweatpants-clad hips. Over her shoulder, a fresh view peeks at me: the modern white apartment building across the street, the brilliant green treetops lining the sidewalks, and above it, a deep blue slice of cloudless sky. Itโs the blue yonder, right here to greet me for my first weekend in Seattle.
I pull up the last piece of tape on the box, pushing it flat. โIโm a very nausea-inducing mix of excited and nervous. Is that weird? Iโm not the new kid. I mean, I recruited half the people in that office, so they know and should love me from a financial standpoint, at the very least.โ
โBare minimum,โ Jamie agrees.
โBut I donโt know,โ I say, looking around my new space. โI still have that new-kid feeling.โ
She walks over, flopping down onto the floor next to me. โI know that pukey feeling well. I always get it when Iโm about to do something badass. Usually reminding myself Iโm about to do something badass sends it packing.โ
โAmย I doing something badass, though?โ
โGeorgia.โ Jamie scoots until weโre facing each other, knees pressed together. Her expression is fierce and admonishing and full of love. She looks like a prickly kitten. โYouโre so badass at your job they were like, โHereโs a promotion and more money and a relocation bonus because we love you so much, go be amazing.โ Youโre starting over in a new state eight hundred milesโโshe points a menacing finger at meโโbut one phone call and plane ticket away from everything youโve ever known. Hell yeah youโre nervous, but youโre excited because you know youโre doing
something amazing for yourself. Youโre excited because youย knowย you can do this.โ
I nod, my throat thick.
โDoes it feel right?โ she asks.
I think about going into Niaโs office the day after I got back from Blue Yonder last month, the slick of my palms against the Blue Bottle lattes Iโd bought for us. The slight shake in my voice when I told her I was accepting the director position, and that I could go up as soon as they needed me, which turned out to be as soon as I could get up there. I remember the way the knot in my stomach unraveled once I said it.
Since I made that decision, Iโve vacillated wildly between excitement and nervousness. Iโve even questioned the decision a few times. I certainly would never classify moving up here as being badass.
But here I am, sitting in my apartment with Jamie, and underneath the excitement and anxiety is another emotion that feels like peace. It reminds me of my early summers at Blue Yonder; I knew it was special, but it didnโt belong to me yet. I had to settle into the feeling over time, trust it slowly.
Thatโs how this tiny one-bedroom in South Lake Union feels to me now. โYeah,โ I say. โIt feels right.โ
โThen thatโs what matters,โ Jamie says, wrapping her arms around my waist.
I smack a kiss on her head. โThank you.โ
โThat was a good pep talk, right? Like, on a scale from one to ten, what am I looking at?โ
โAn easy twelve,โ I confirm.
โTwelve! Blake would chastise you for going off scale.โ โBut itโs just us right now,โ I say. โSo you get a twelve.โ
She hums, then tightens her hold on me. โGod, Iโm going to miss you.โ
For the thirtieth time this weekend, my eyes fill with tears. โJamie, what the hell? You promised you wouldnโt make me cry if I let you help me move up here.โ
โThatโs on you for not knowing I was lying,โ she says, pulling back just as a tear streaks down her cheek.
We stare at each other, faces still soggy from the last crying jag we went on, before dissolving into laughter. Our goodbye is imminent, and the thought of doing it hurts, even though weโll be fine. Weโll do anything for each other, and I know more than ever that if either of us arenโt doing enough, weโll say it out loud.
With a sigh, Jamie rests her cheek on my shoulder. We lapse into comfortable silence, soaking in our last hour together before I have to send her back home. Itโs strange that the same word can mean different places, and yet the feeling exists when weโre together, too, no matter where we are geographically. What a comforting thought.
โOkay, enough sad-girl shit.โ Jamie straightens and wipes her palms down her wet cheeks. She does the same to me, grinning when I laugh. โWhat else can we knock off your very comprehensive to-do list before we have to go to the airport?โ
I give her a sideways look, biting my lip. โOkay, I have a confession.โ โWhat?โ
โI lost my to-do-list notebook,โ I say, then clap my hands over my mouth.
Her eyes widen.ย โWhat?โ
โI canโt find it anywhere.โ There are pages and pages of items with all the things I need to do and buy, the companies I need to call for service setups, even local restaurants and shops I want to check out. Iโve been carrying it with me everywhere, but Jamie and I have been to practically every storefront in Seattle. Thereโs no way Iโll track it down.
โSo, wait. Have you just beenโฆwinging it?โ
โKind of,โ I groan. โIโve got a half-rewritten list on my Notes app, but itโs not as comprehensive, and Iโve been too overwhelmed to panic about it. Iโm running on gut instinct, mostly.โ
Jamie blinks at me, the surprised O of her mouth curling out until sheโs grinning. โGeorgia, you donโt even go to the corner store without a list. Are you telling me we went to Target yesterday and you dropped five hundred dollars on things you didnโt need?โ
โI needed most of them!โ
โThose sweatpants?โ she volleys back, pointing at the tie-dyed pair that match hers.
โTheyโre a keepsake,โ I say defensively, curling my legs under me. โItโs the leisure equivalent of us looking at the same stars at the same time when weโre not together.โ
โAnd that rug you were arguing with yourself over for ten minutes?โ Jamie continues.
I run my hand along the multicolored rug I now own, spread beneath me on the hardwood floor. My old neutral rug is currently in a moving truck on its way up to Seattle with the rest of my furniture; I didnโt need this. But it felt like a requirement to help turn my blank slate of white walls, pale hardwood, and chrome appliances into a space that feels like mine. Itโs my favorite thing in the apartment.
โI knew it wasnโt on my list,โ I admit. โI just wanted it.โ
Jamie shakes her head in wonder. โMy babyโs growing up. See what happens when you throw your lists in the fire? You end up with gorgeous rugs.โ
Itโs those two wordsโlistย andย fireโthat make my mind slip into its Eli- shaped space. I think about the list we followed for five years before he set it aflame, about the list we left back at Blue Yonder, the one that lit that dormant spark between us again, and about the much more nebulous one weโre following now. The one thatโs keeping us friends.
Itโs been a month since I shut the cottage door behind me the morning after Adamโs wedding, Eliโs paper ring looped around my thumb and all of my emotions wrung out. Now that ring sits on top of the Converse box that maintained a place of honor in the back seat while Jamie and I road-tripped up a few days ago. I eye it on the bookshelf, my heart diving the way it does anytime I think of Eli these days.
Which is always.
Jamie follows my sight line, arching an eyebrow. Sheโs well aware of the bombshell conversation Eli and I had the night of Adam and Graceโs wedding. I unloaded it over drinks the following week, grateful she listened
without voicing her opinion, though I could see the question in her eyes over the way weโd agreed to move forward.
We havenโt talked about him this weekend, but I donโt miss her sly awareness when he texts, which is regularly.
It started with a text the day he left for LA. Once Iโd gotten home, I stress-cleaned while recounting every moment Iโd spent with Eli in blissful, painful detail. Even though we hadnโt said the word out loud, the feeling in my chest was as heavy as goodbye, and I had no idea what came next. We hadnโt talked about what friendship looked like between us, what the rules were.
Then my phone dinged with a text from him.
Not saying goodbye or anything. Just letting you know I landed safely earlier and got picked up by this random guy
Right after that text was a picture of Eli and his dad. They looked like twinsโgolden skin, dark eyes and hair, lethal eyelashes, the same quiet smiles. Even with the purple smudges under his eyes, Eli looked beautiful. God, Iโd just seen him the night before, had fallen asleep with his hand in mine and woken up in the middle of the night with his face buried in my neck, and now we were hundreds of miles away.
Mooching off any ride you can get from the airport, huh?ย I
replied so I wouldnโt send a string ofย I miss yous.
His response was almost immediate:ย Besides preferring to be chauffeured by someone who knows my middle name, Ubers are expensive and Iโm unemployed
Not for long, I wrote back.
For a few minutes he didnโt respond. I stared at my phone in my dark, quiet apartment, waiting for him.
Sorry, my dad wonโt stop hassling me to tell you he says hi. I had to lock myself in the guest room to get away from him
I thought back to his dadโs DM months ago, theย miss you, kiddoย that nearly broke me. But this felt like a tether.
Tell him I say hi back and to hassle you anytime Iโll pass on theย ๏ฌrst part of the message, instigator
I laughed, then held my breath while the text bubble popped up and disappeared and popped up again.
Finally, a text appeared and my heart spiraled out of my body.
I miss you, it said, followed by a lightning-quick,ย as a friend.
The relief of being able to text backย I miss you, followed by the frustration of the safe but inadequate add-on,ย also as a friend, was so strong that my eyes stung. I missed him in every way possible, but at least I could say it this way. It was a boundary I was grateful for, even though I simultaneously resented it.
Heโs been so steady with his communication since, and I soak up every morning message, every picture of his most recently completed puzzle (I know how hot this is, he texts,ย try to contain yourself) or a Georgia license plate heโs seen in the wild (Found you). In return, I text the silliest, most mundane things. I just want to know heโs there, and he always is. I didnโt realize how much I missed it until I had it backโan Eli to rely on. An Eli whoโs present and diligent, who feels like mine in a way.
Just not in the way my heart wants.
โItโs looking so good in here, Peach Pit,โ Jamie says, pulling me away from my thoughts. โOnce your furnitureโs here, itโs going toย reallyย be yours. Iโll have to come back to see the finished product, of course.โ
โOf course,โ I agree, unhooking my claw clip from the hem of my ratty T-shirt. Twisting my hair up, I secure it with the clip, then take in my space. โI worried it would feel boring or empty, but even without all my stuff here, it feels familiar already.โ I lean back on my hands, looking over at her. โThis is the first time Iโm living somewhere thatโs just mine. Isnโt that wild?โ
Jamieโs eyebrows shoot up. โSeriously?โ
I nod. โObviously I lived with my dad growing up, then had various roommates in college. Then I was living in New York with Eli.โ I barely trip over his name and the memory, and that feels like progress. Warmer things have replaced it. โAnd then you. But even after you moved out, it felt likeย ourย place, you know?โ
โAlways will be,โ Jamie says with authority. โAnd now this place gets to be yours. Howโs it feel?โ
I inhale deeply, looking around. โIt feelsโฆright. Like itโll be home.โ โJust remember you have another home to come back to,โ she says,
taking my hand.
I squeeze her fingers in mine. โI know.โ
Her eyes fill again and I see her revisiting the same memories I am: packing up my stuff with Adam, Grace, and Blake, making a party out of it, saying an official goodbye to the space that saw so many of my highs and lows, that grew my friendship with Jamie into what it is right now. We even FaceTimed Eli, and for every second I heard his voice over the phone I wished that I was hearing it in person.
Heโs got his own thing going on, I told myself, though I still donโt know what that thing is. He didnโt end up taking the job he said was a lockโย Didnโt work out, he texted when I asked about it,ย but Iโve got other things lined upโand sidesteps the subject otherwise. Itโs the only thing weย donโtย talk about, besides loving one another.
But I get to come back to him like I do Jamie and Adam and Grace and Blake, a home-shaped place. Thatโs so much better than what we had for five years.
And if itโs worse than what we had for eight days, I do my best not to think about it.