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I pull out my phone from my pocket, click Jessie’s name in my Favorites list, and put her on speakerphone.
“Hi, bestie,” she says, her voice soothing some of the sadness this box brought up for me.
“I miss you,” I say. “Come to Texas.”
“In June? Do you hate me?”
“I actually love you—that’s why I want you to come here. I’m just opening my kitchen stuff and it’s taking me back to when we lived together, and I don’t want to live with a stinky boy,” I say as Ian walks into the kitchen and to the fridge.
“Hey!” he says, grabbing a water bottle and putting the ice-cold plastic against the back of my neck.
I yelp, surprised at the cold, but it actually feels good. I’m about to ask him for a Diet Coke, but he sets one on the counter.He must have put the drinks in the fridge right when we got here this morning.
That boy.
Always taking care of me.
“Listen, I don’t like it any more than you do,” Jessie says. “Do you think they’d notice if we swapped places?”
“I would,” Mac yells in the background.
“Speaking of swapping places, how is wine country?” I ask.
Jessie and Mac have plans to attend grad school in the fall at Northwestern, but for the summer, they’re staying at Mac’s family’s house in Napa, California. It’s not any farther from me than it would be if they were already in Illinois, but it’s still too far for my liking.
“Oh, you know, terribly ugly. The weather is awful too. And the wine is just too . . . um . . . winey,” she says.
“Jessica Matthews, it is four o’clock in the afternoon. Have you been drinking?”
“It’s actually two o’clock here, and only because we were just at a winery for lunch! You called before my afternoon nap.”
“And here I am, sweating my ass off organizing a cutlery drawer,” I say. “Anyway, did Mac propose yet?”
“Not yet,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “And if he did, do you really think I’d wait for you to call me to tell you?”
“Honestly, if I’m not there in person for it, I’ll be pissed.”
“Mac would never. Plus, you’ll know before me. He’ll probably call you for your blessing.”
“Damn straight,” I say. “Okay, go enjoy your nap, and I’ll see you later this summer?”
“I am counting the days until Mac and I come see your show.”
I smile, both reminded and comforted that my best friend is only a phone call away. As much as I wish Jessie and I lived closer, the miles between us feel like the least of my worries.
I finish the kitchen and set up both bathrooms with shower curtains, unpacking the boxes for the respective spaces. Separate bathrooms were a stipulation of us moving in together, and fortunately, the rent in Texas fits our budget for a two-bedroom. It’ll be a test for when we go somewhere like New York and have to share a shoebox.
I check on Ian’s progress in the master bedroom. We bought a queen bed for us and put my single bed from undergrad in the second bedroom in case I ever need some space or we have someone come visit. Ian’s got the bed frame built, and he’s made it up with sheets, blankets, and pillows so it looks like a showroom bed.
“Ian, this looks amazing,” I say.
“Are you sure?” he says, standing back to take in the work he’s done. “I’ve never built a bed frame before, and the instructions weren’t great. I have screws left over, and that does not seem like a good thing. It might be better if we let this be a decorative piece. We can sleep on the couch, or I have an air mat?—”
“Ian.” I slip both arms around him, holding him against me.
Ian’s come a long way from the quiet, anxious kid I met last fall, but he still has plenty of moments of lingering anxiety, even over small things, like bed frames. I’m not great at being helpful during those times, but I’m learning.
“You did great,” I say, keeping it simple.
