“What about your nonprofit?”
“We’ve been thinking about expanding beyond Chicago. I’d love to do something similar in LA.”
She gives me a strained smile. “Okay. We can talk about it more. Let’s see how your meetings go.”
I decide not to tell her I’ve already done a series of Zoom interviews with both firms I’m considering. That this is basically a chemistry visit to help me decide which one to choose.
But then she reaches out, pulls my head down and kisses me.
“Sorry,” she says. “I’m just on edge. I think it could be great. Can you imagine, getting to see each other every day? You’re amazing to even consider it.”
I’m not amazing.
I’m madly in love.
“I just want to be with you, Molls. Any way you’ll have me.”
“I want you all the ways,” she says. “Let’s go home and get on that.”
CHAPTER 34Molly
I’m getting better at recognizing my moments of self-sabotage. I’m proud of myself for course correcting.
Of courseI shouldn’t panic at the idea of Seth exploring jobs in Los Angeles. Nothing is set in stone, and it could be incredible if he moved here. We can’t be long-distance forever. I love our marathon phone calls and romantic trips to see each other, but there’s always an undercurrent of sadness: I always, always miss him. Even when we’re together, I know it’s temporary, and I miss him in advance.
I should not let my unease over Dezzie’s crisis ruin what should be a beautiful moment.
What she said on the phone about love is what my therapist would call “reactive.” An understandable point of view given the circumstances, but not one I should internalize.
Still, I woke up at 4:00 a.m., my body’s customary brooding hour, so rattled I never fell back asleep. Instead, I let my mind turn over all the ways Seth and I could fail each other, or hurt each other, or be mortally wounded and die. I know I’m catastrophizing. But catastrophizing is a means of preparation. A way to pre-break your own heart, before someone else does it for you.
In daylight, though, I’m better able to accept that anxiety is not reality. SoI take Seth’s hand, lead him back to the car, and kiss him for all I’m worth. Kissing him always makes me feel so much better.
“Want me to drive?” he asks. I think he can tell that I’m wobbly.
“No, I’m good.”
We pull out, and I drive fast over the desert roads, which are nearly empty, given the holiday and the hour. It’s six o’clock by the time we get back to town, and I’m starving.
“Fancy moseying down to the saloon, partner?” I ask Seth.
“I could eat an entire jackrabbit.”
“I think jackrabbit would be gamey and tough.”
“Just how I like it.”
It’s usually hard to get a table at the saloon at night, but the town is sedate this close to Thanksgiving, and we’re seated right away. We proceed to order every fried thing on the menu—pickles, onion rings, wings—plus burgers.
Seth gets up to go to the bathroom and my fingers itch to text Alyssa about him potentially moving here. I’m excited and terrified and it would make me feel better to unpack it with her. But I don’t. Telling Alyssa would distract away from Dezzie’s crisis, and that doesn’t feel right. Plus, it’s not like this is happening immediately. There will be plenty of time to work through my feelings with my friends.
And anyway, maybe it’s healthier if I work through them with, you know, Seth.
“There’s a stuffed roadrunner in the men’s room over the urinals,” he informs me when he gets back. “I felt like it was checking out my dick.”
“Well, I’m sure he was impressed.”
“Yeah. My dick iswaybigger than a roadrunner’s.”
