Page 96 of Sharkbait
JAMES:Great. But I miss you.
He misses me?
Should I say “Miss you too?”
Because I do.
But something holds me back from saying so.
I watch the little dots on James’s side bounce, then stop. Bounce, then stop. Like he keeps changing his mind on what to say next. Just when I think he’s not going to say anything else, another textcomes through.
JAMES:How much do you remember from our conversation after your surgery?
ME:We had a conversation after my surgery?
JAMES:Say no more. I’ll be back from my trip in five days. Think we could get together and talk? Like really talk?
ME:Sure. Just don’t ask me to marry you or anything.
The little dots do their dance again until one last text lands.
JAMES:That’ll be hard, but I’ll do my best.
I watch Meilani swimming and sigh.
Why on earth did I say that?
I can’t even commit to a real date with the guy, and suddenly, I’m busting out marriage jokes?
I’m getting oddly comfortable with him these days, and I find that I really like having him around. No, Ilovehaving him around. And when he’s not in my general vicinity? I’m asking myself how I can finagle things to plant myself where he is. You know, in a not-so-obvious way. Who am I kidding? It’s obvious to everyone at this point that I’m into the guy.
And it’s a dangerous game I’m playing. Because I’m quickly growing attached, and he won’t be here much longer.
But part of me is starting to think… what’s the harm in enjoying his company while I can, ya know? I’m a big girl. I can handle it when he leaves. And maybe it would be good for me to see what it’s like being with a truly kind and caring guy, even if it’s for a limited time. Because let’s be honest, that’s something I’ve never truly experienced.
Take the other day, for example. What I said was true. I don’t remember much from right after the surgery. The details are all fuzzy. What Idoremember, though, is waking up at home, in bed—anactualbed, with everything I needed at my bedside to get better: my medicines, a water bottle, books and magazines, and a note that said “Feel Better, Cold Brew. Love, James.”
Mabel told me later that he called her and Wally while we were at the surgery center and asked them to swap out my crappy air mattress for his actual bedframe and heavenly Tempur-Pedicmattress. The man literally gave me his bed. Who does that? He also gave Mabel instructions on how to play the role of my nursemaid while he was in Hawaii for another work trip and has been checking up on her to make sure she’s up to the task.
James goes the extra mile for the people he cares about.
And for some reason, right now, that includes me.
And I’m grateful for it.
“No cell phones on exhibit.”
A stern voice startles me out of my thoughts.
“Brendan, hi! How are you doing today?”
“No cell phones on exhibit,” he repeats.
“You’re totally right,” I say. “However, we’re not on exhibit right now, are we? As you know, guests aren’t permitted back here. Also, technically, I’m not on duty right now, so…”
“Right,” he says. “Well, Dana sent me to bring you these.”
Disgruntled, he hands me three wooden T-shaped tools with paintbrushes on the end of them.
