Page 5 of True Sight
I roll my eyes at my phone and toss it down once I reach my desk, finally sitting down to start my work day.
Several hours later,I push back from my desk and lean back in my chair. It reclines at my weight and as I rub my eyes, I feel the lumbar support I paid extra for pressing into my lower back.
I’m lucky enough to own my business and work as a freelance software engineer. Over the years, I’ve designed custom apps, websites, shopping platforms, and more for businesses of various sizes all over the world. The projects I generally take on are remote but there are the occasional projects for local businesses and startups. It wasn’t too long ago that Kolbi asked me to upgrade the system his securityfirm runs on and his wife is constantly connecting me with more local businesses I can work with. Her connections around the city run deep and she isn’t shy about sharing her network with me. Rolling my neck and trying to release some of the tension collecting in the back of it, the ding of a new email catches my attention. I was just about to break for lunch, but what’s one more email?
My cursor finds it and double clicks to open it before I start to read.
Hello!
My name is Henry Baker and I’m reaching out to inquire about some work I’m needing done. I’m relocating to the United States from the U.K. and am specifically moving to Charleston to open a fitness studio in the area! I’m looking for someone to help me build an app for my studio and also set up some tech that will allow me to livestream my fitness classes online for my international community. I found your website online and I’m tickled just thinking about getting to work with you! There’s like, a ton more I need help on, but those are the big things so far. Do let me know if you have space for this project.
I’ll be flying the coop (London, that is) in just two weeks and would like to get started right away on this project! My studio is set to open in the new year so I hope it’s not too tight of a timeline for you. Do let me know your thoughts on this project!
Can’t wait to hear from you!!!
All the best,
Henry Baker
At the bottom of the email are several social media handles which I ignore. He’s ‘tickled’just thinking aboutworking with me? He doesn’t even know me and I know for a fact that no one has ever been tickled by me in any sense of the word. Also, who uses so many exclamation points in their email? Has no one ever taught him proper email etiquette? I feel my face turn into a grimace but then start to think of the payout for this type of work. I’m finishing out two larger projects right now and only have minor app updates on the books for the next few weeks. From the sounds of his email, this Henry Baker is going to need a lot of help. Which, for me, means a lot of money.
I quickly type a response before closing my computer down for lunch. As I walk away, I wonder about the type of person Henry Baker is. Guessing from his word choice of “tickled” and his eight exclamation points, not the kind of person I would get along with very well.
3
HENRY
“But I’m going to miss you,” my best friend, Ellie, whines from her spot on my mattress which is on the floor and covered in a heap of sheets, clothing, and a freshly emptied tape gun.
“You should come with me,” I respond, folding yet another pair of athletic shorts into the carry-on bag I’ll be bringing with me on the plane tomorrow. My eyes dance around my empty flat and a wave of memories overtake me. I can feel my breath start to stick in my throat as if I’m stranded in the middle of the Atlantic without a life raft. My brain starts to meticulously count all the things I have to do once I flash my passport tomorrow and take my seat in a giant metal tube going one way.
“Oh stop with that, you know I can’t. It’s cruel of you to even suggest it, pet.” She rolls over on the last remaining piece of furniture left because it’s not able to be hauled away until tomorrow. I plan to force it into the lift and send it out with the morning bins before heading to Heathrow.
I lower myself to my knees and flash her a tight smile. “You could have,pet.” I shake my head at her sharply,repeating the name she’s called me since we met eight years ago. “If my memory serves me correctly, I offered for you to come with me on my grand adventure and cover your way. You’re the one who had to fall in love and suddenly be tied to this place forever.”
Ellie and I met one night when she and her friends found their way into a gay bar by accident. How they didn’t know it was a gay bar when they walked when it was literally named “Pickles” I’ll never know. At the time, I was working as a bartender trying to make ends meet. I’d just come out to my parents who, to my surprise, had no idea their one and only son was into men. As if my lack of interest in girls or my minor infatuation with Celine Dion wasn’t enough for them to see the signs from a mile away.
Must be a straight person issue.
“Blech, Jordan really is a putz for that, ain’t he?” She sticks out her tongue and rolls her eyes. I chuckle as she does because unlike the straight people in my life, I’m not confused in the slightest about her feelings for her fiancé. I knew as soon as I saw them together that he is her endgame and I couldn’t be happier for them.
“You’ll just have to do transatlantic wedding planning with me instead. And when you can, you can come and visit me across the pond. My new place has three bedrooms, and one of them can be yours.” I flit a hand towards her and aggressively zip my carry-on closed. When I spot the pack of pills on the window sill where I left it after taking my daily dose, I wretch the bag back open, stuff them inside, and force the zipper shut once more.
“I’ll send you links for what to order for my room with your new found fortune.”
“I’d hardly call it a ‘fortune,’” I correct, pushing up to my feet again and dragging my duffle bag towards the frontdoor. After tossing a pair of trainers next to the bag, I move towards the kitchen to make myself a midday tea. I’d intentionally left my electric kettle unpacked and fill the vessel with water from the sink before setting it down on its base and turning it on.
“Henry, my sweet angel of a friend, whatwouldyou call it when someone leaves you their entire estate worth millions of pounds when they die?” I turn to face my brown haired friend who’s raising a brow at me.
“Uhm, the last act of love by the one person who ever really understood me?” I lament, pouring my now scalding hot water into the mug I asked Ellie to bring with her. “Would you like any?” I offer, lifting the mug up in her direction.
“Do you have a second mug?”
I squint around the kitchen, realizing that no, I do not. “We can share.”
I make my tea just as I like it—with a little bit of milk that I’d saved for today—and go to sit next to her. She sits up and reaches for the mug, taking the first sip before I even get the chance. Once she’s gotten her fill, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and passes the mug back to me.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do? America is a very long way from here and I don’t know if you’ve seen the headlines from over there but those people are bloody mad.”
