Page 6 of You, with a View

Though she’s wearing white heart-shaped sunglasses, I know her brown eyes are soft behind the lenses. “There’s no such thing as pity between best friends. I love treating you, and I’m the one who invited you today in anticipation of good news from your interview. So, just so you know, I’m going to decline your payment.”

“Just soyouknow, the interview was a bust.” I give her a breezy grin that belies my panic. Sitting in that stuffy conference room while the hiring manager listed tasks boring enough to make my soul shrivel up, I wondered for the four hundredth time why the hell I can’t figure out how to adult successfully.

Sadie pushes a strand of straight black, chin-length hair behind her heavily adorned ear. “All the more reason to treat you.”

“If you want to treat me, give me copious amounts of free alcohol.”

Her response is interrupted by my phone chiming. I look down, inhaling sharply, and anticipation dumps into my veins. It’s a TikTok message notification.

“Saved by the bell?”

“Literally.”

After several days of back-and-forth with who I’ve confirmed is Paul’s grandson, every notification comes with a fight-or-flight chaser. In addition to exchanging messages, he’s sent through several pictures of a man who matches up to the Paul in Gram’s photos.

Yesterday I asked if Paul would be willing to speak with me. I nearly chickened out, and the silence I got in return made me question my brazenness. Though I wouldn’t call Paul’s grandson a prolific pen pal—his responses are short, leached of personality, very bot-like—his turnaround time has been quick.

Until now. Twenty-six hours he’s let my request hang. I’m almost afraid to open his reply.

“Get it together, Noelle,” I mutter as Thomas joins us, a plastic bag swinging from his fingertips. He and Sadie both work in downtown San Francisco, though Thomas works from home two days a week. When I lived—and worked—in the city, we met up often for lunch and happy hours.

Thomas slides into a seat, pushing his hair from his forehead. It’s a lost cause; it’s thick and getting surfer-boy long, so gravity always pulls it back. “Hey, kids. This lunch is officially the best part of my day thanks to you.” He flashes a brilliant smile at Sadie, then turns to me. “And you’re here, too.”

I roll my eyes. Sadie technically belonged to Thomas first; they met during college and immediately fell head over ass for each other. But as soon as she and I met, it was clear we were the ones who were meant to be. Thomas and I have spent the past five years vying for Sadie’s ultimate affection. I’m confident I’m losing, but it doesn’t stop me from trying, if only to annoy my brother.

After leaning over to accept Thomas’s kiss, her attention returns to me. She brandishes her fork at my phone. “Open the message!”

Thomas rustles around in his plastic bag, pulling out a sandwich and a bag of chips. “What message?”

“Paul’s grandson wrote her back.”

“Teddy?” Somehow his mouth is already full of chips, and they spray out in a disgusting arc.

Sadie’s eyebrow raises. “Teddy?”

I’ve given Sadie the whole story, with updates texted as they happen, but I only found out his name yesterday. Something about learning it, knowing I was that much closer to uncovering a new secret about Gram, sent me on an emotional bender.

So I took a hike, literally. It’s what I do whenever the grief threatens to wrap its hand around my neck and choke me. I hit whatever trail makes me think of her most—ones we hiked together religiously—and walk myself into exhaustion. Then I cry it out at the peak so there’s no chance Dad will see. Watching hiseyes fill with his own sadnessandempathy for mine became unbearable quickly. Hours-long hikes are my escape and sanity.

After I returned from my six-miler at Mt. Tam, I fell into bed, exhausted in too many ways to count, and forgot to update Sadie.

Still, getting every detail matters to her. She’s been obsessed with this story since I told her about it.

Thomas pipes up before I can appropriately grovel. “That’s his name, allegedly. Could be a fake. Noelle gave a fake name.”

“I did not!” I regret ever telling my brother any of this. “I said my name was Elle. It’s a half-true name.”

“Teddy is for chubby babies and little old dudes,” Thomas says. “If this guy is supposed to be Paul’s grandson, he’s probably our age. He gave you a whole fake name.”

Sadie puts her hand on Thomas’s arm to quiet him down. “Open the message.”

I narrow my eyes at Thomas when he lets out a scoffing noise, then open the app.

My message from yesterday is there:

I’m glad Paul saw the video and liked it. That means a lot. You said he was open to speaking with me? I’d love to talk to him ASAP. I’m in the Bay Area, not sure where you’re located. We could speak on the phone or video chat, or whatever he’s up for.

And underneath, Teddy’s response:

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