Page 127 of The Warmth of Our Closest Star

The Regal Building always had people on a waiting list, dying to move in, so it wasn’t as if their bottom line would suffer from my leaving. Though I was excited to move home—excited to get my head out of my own ass and be with Peter all of the time—I knew I’d miss my apartment. Even though it hadn’t really been my home as I’d said, I had enjoyed it for the time I’d lived there. I loved my living room and the view. My neighbors—some I’d made friends with—were wonderful. Even though it wasn’t home, it held good memories. Saying “goodbye” had been difficult, but not nearly as difficult as thinking about not living with Peter any longer.

Within a month of having his surgery, Peter was completely back to normal and given a clean bill of health by his doctor. And he started traveling for his job again as needed. It was lonely, being at home alone during his trips to other cities, or even countries, for his work. However, like me, his work was important to him. He loved what he did and the trips were never longer than a week. So, as we’d been learning to do, we dealt with it.

His latest trip, to London, had been planned to last for two weeks. The longest trip yet. Neither of us looked forward to being separated for so long, but we decided that he would simply have to call me each night before bed. Staying up to date with each other that way was the compromise and the way we dealt with it. However, when he called me out of the blue in the morning—what would have been early afternoon for him in London—I was confused by his questions.

“That virus they first detected in Wuhan China?” Peter asked as I grabbed the remote for the television and began searching for CNN. “It’s a bigger deal than we thought. It’s everywhere now. It’s serious.”

“You know I don’t watch or read the news like I should,” I mumbled into the phone as CNN appeared on the television.

I hit the mute button so that closed captions would pop up. I could talk to Peter and read the chyron and closed captions simultaneously.

Quarantine. Shutting down. Borders.

Words flashed out at me as Peter talked in my ear.

Chuckling nervously, he said, “I know. Enzo…I’m heading home. It’s…going to be a process. Getting back into the U.S. is going to be a process.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “My company is helping me get out of here. I’ll get there. But I have to start that process now. Most likely, I’m going to have trouble at Heathrow. And then when I get to New York. A trip that would typically take a day is going to take two or three. It’s going to be impossible to fly into or out of the U.S. within days, I’m sure.”

“That’s insane, I—” I trailed off as I caught more words and images flashing on the screen. “What is going on, Peter?”

“People are dying. A lot,” he said. “It’s a pandemic. And no one seems to know fuck all about any of it. It’s a panic everywhere. Yesterday was…today everyone has lost their minds.”

I chuckled nervously. “Fuck all? The British are rubbing off on you, babe.”

He laughed, and it was a genuine laugh.

“Babe, don’t panic. Be reasonable,” he advised me. “Get something to use like a surgical mask. Do the best you can. Some cloth or something, and go get enough groceries for a few weeks if you can. Take the car. Not the bus or something silly like that. Stay away from large crowds and be very careful.”

“Peter, this sounds serious,” I said. “Do I need to be scared?”

“No. No. No,” he said. “Don’t panic, babe. But I have no idea what’s going to happen. I just know that pretty soon they’re going to start mostly shutting down borders and entry points. I have no idea what each individual state is going to do. I don’t know what’s going to happen with food supplies or anything. Being prepared and not freaking out is the most important thing. I don’t know how the general populace is going to act, so that’s why I’m telling you to keep a level head.”

“That sounds like I should be scared,” I said.

“Babe,” he said, “I would tell you if you needed to be scared. Right?”

I took a steadying breath. “Yes.”

“I just want you to prepare in case things get prickly for a while. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, nodding to myself as I stared in shock at the news. “You will come home. Right?”

Peter mumbled something that I didn’t quite catch. “Three days at most. I promise. They’ll find a way to get me home.”

“Okay,” I said. “I have to work today, so—”

“Use a PTO day,” he said. “Get to the grocery store. Trust me.”

“Okay,” I said, my concern growing.

“I have to go. I need to get to the airport. A company representative that’s over here is meeting me. I’ll message or call you tonight. Okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, husband,” he said. “I will see you soon. I promise.”