Page 122 of Catch a Kiwi
As for the woman, she was on her phone, and from the way she was glancing at my C.V., she was looking me up. “Ah,” she said. “I didn’t hear about that, but then, I’m notkeen on sport.” She pulled out a business card and slapped it down. “Penny Foreman, B2B Recruitment.” A hand with unpainted nails waggled my C.V. in the air. “Got a couple of spots you may fit. There’ll be a ninety-day trial period—there nearly always is, and in your case, doubly so, unfair as that may seem—but if you suit?” She gave a nod. “You’ll be in.”
“Oh,” I said. “Wow. A lucky meeting for me, then.”
She grinned. “Not so lucky. You’d be surprised how many interviews happen in cafés. Meetings as well. I do some of my best poaching here, because most men can’t talk to people for shit. Never ask the right questions. Never listen to the answers to the questions they do ask. Their loss, and my commission. Lucky me.”
54
SURPRISE
Summer
I got a job. I also found a friend. Penny may have talked me into too many date scones since then, not to mention a few beers, but it was great to remember how to laugh, and how to immerse myself in work, too. And to feel that extra layer of skin slowly growing back.
I told myself every day that Roman had been a straw clutched by a drowning woman, that what had felt like an overwhelming pull toward him had merely been a desire to feel alive again, to feelsomethingagain. At night, though, I couldn’t deceive myself. I’d wake up crying from a barely remembered dream, undefended in the dark, and think,I should call him. What am I holding back for?In the morning, though, I’d remember him saying, “I won’t wait for you.” Could I survive another loss right now, when I was barely getting my feet back under myself? Worse—could he? I couldn’t lie to myself that it hadn’t mattered to him. That final afternoon, making love with our eyes and our hearts open … it had mattered. And when I’d run away, it had mattered more. If my heart was fragile, so was his, no matter how it looked to anyone else. His shell was thick because what was inside was so tender. I knew that, because however unlikely it seemed, I knew him. Partly because I knew myself.
I knew what it was to be hurt, to be betrayed. To be abandoned. The last thing I wanted was to inflict that on Roman.Maybe later,I promised myself on every one of those mornings. When I was sure I’d be offering him a whole person. A healed person. That if he gave me his heart, I’d have the courage to take it and hold it safe, and to give him mine in return.
You think that’s crazy after only a few weeks together. After making love exactly twice. That I was rating the stakes much too high. The problem was—it didn’t feel crazy. It felt true. And as for the idea that it had been my sex drive, and maybe my life force, finally reawakening, and it meant I should put myself out there again? I didn’t want anybody else. I knew the difference now between “good enough” and actuallygood.I wanted Roman.
And, all right, I was probably still scared to try. And scared he’d say no.
On this Friday morning, nearly two months after that day in the café with Penny, autumn was threatening to turn to winter outside the little caravan. The wind was colder today, and there was a promise of rain in the air. Delilah stuck her head out the caravan door, then stuffed her rain jacket into her backpack, and I asked, “Want a ride?”
“Nope,” she said. “I’m taking the bus. Riding the bike is good for my endurance and leg strength and everything, but in the rain? Not so much.”
“Hence,” I said, “the ride.”
Delilah took a last bite of toast. “I’m working on my independence. That’s because I’m leaving in exactly nine days. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of sick of waitressing. I mean, it’s fine, but …”
“But you don’t want to do it forever,” I said. “Even in New Zealand.”
“I need to find something to do that’s more like what you did,” she said. “At least once I’m a year or so into college and can actually get a job like that. I always thought, ha, Summer, grinding it out, taking it all so seriously, but you know? I’d kind of like to have a job that doesn’t suck. Not that being a server in New Zealand is terrible, it’s just … I kind of don’t want to just survive anymore. It’d be nice to feel like I’m, quote, getting somewhere, unquote.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too. You know—” I hesitated.
“Come on,” Delilah said. “Spit it out. I’ve seen you naked every single day—which is seriously discouraging, by the way. Let’s have some naked minds, too.”
“You could stay a while,” I said. “Get a tourist visa and spend a month or so getting a jump on the coursework for your fall classes, maybe. You’ll have calculus and chemistry right off the bat, and here you are where I can help with the calculus and Daisy can help with the chemistry. And youhaveworked hard all year. Maybe you deserve a vacation. It’ll be the South Island in winter, of course, but still.”
“Are you saying that,” Delilah asked, “because you think I can’t make it alone, or becauseyoudon’t want to be alone?”
“Ouch,” I said, and then, because I was trying not to lie to myself these days, “Probably a little bit of the second. I’m not worried about the first one, because youhavefigured out the getting-someplace-better deal, thanks to our fabulous working holiday.”
“You say that,” Delilah said, “but come on, be honest. Doesn’t part of you worry that I’m going to blow it?”
“Areyouworried that you’re going to blow it?” I asked. “That’s what matters. Who cares what I think?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I’ve been out of school fora year, and the thought of all those student loans is pretty scary.”
“Except that I’ll be helping,” I said, “now that I’m getting back into the black again. Six figures gives me a whole lot more wiggle room, assuming I make it through my trial period.”
“Ha,” Delilah said. “Like that’s not going to happen.”
“Life can throw things at you,” I said. “But if all goes well, I should be able to pay for all of it next year. If, of course, you prove to be a good investment.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Like I’m not motivated. And it’s not six figures after taxes.”
“Not that far off. And once I finish paying Roman back for the truck, I’ll have a lot more. I just wish he?—"
