35. Daphne

35

DAPHNE

A yawn claimed me as I stared at the computer screen and went over this week's inventory. The conversation I'd had with Harlan after tonight's SBA meeting was running through my head on repeat. I couldn't switch it off.

I lied to him. I had been upset about him talking to Ariana, but there was something more that was upsetting me. I'd been putting off telling him that Aunt Rhonda was coming home Friday and that I was going back to California on Sunday, and I'm not sure why. I told myself the reason was because Aunt Rhonda had made me promise not to tell anyone when she was being discharged because she didn't ‘want anyone to make a fuss' over her. But that wasn't the reason I'd kept the information from Harlan. I knew that he would keep it a secret if I asked him to.

I think the reason I hadn't said anything was because I knew when I did, it would be real. And I didn't want it to be real. I didn't want to think about going home. I just wanted to enjoy and soak up my time here, my time spent with Harlan, without the cloud of reality darkening my delusional skies.

But now I had. I blurted out that I was leaving. And Harlan, being Harlan, had to say the most perfect thing ever, " I hate the thought of you being across the country. I just don't like the thought of no one being there if you need someone, or even just have a bad day ."

The sincerity in his sentiment felt like a knife twisting in my heart. In every relationship I'd been in, it was me who was nurturing, who made sure that my partner was okay, who worried about the other person. I'd never been on the receiving end of that treatment, and let me tell you, I could definitely get used to it.

Which was the exact reason I needed to leave. Not that I had much choice. Spending this past month in Firefly had cost me all my vacation and sick leave. I'd spoken to Alexandra earlier today, and she said if she didn't see me on Monday morning, I could look for another job. She also had been calling me every day since I'd been gone to ask me questions, which should show her just how much she needed me.

Even though I was fifty percent sure she was bluffing about me actually getting fired if I took more time off, there was still the other fifty percent that had me equally convinced she'd follow through with the threat just to save face. I couldn't roll the dice and risk my livelihood on fifty/fifty odds.

The seven weeks total I'd spent here had been the happiest I'd had in a long time. Maybe ever. I was trying to tell myself that the only reason I felt that way was because it wasn't my home. If I lived here, I was sure things would bother me and get on my nerves. Although Nadia, Ashley, Zoe, Ray, and dozens of other residents didn't seem to have that problem.

But I wasn't like them. I needed a big city. I needed the hustle and bustle. I needed the buzz of traffic and people.

So why did the thought of going back to all that make me sick to my stomach? As much as I missed my own bed and the convenience of DoorDash and UberEats, I didn't miss those things as much as I thought I would.

It had to be Harlan. Even though I'd successfully kept up the friend-zone boundaries, my plan had backfired on me. I felt closer to him now than I had when we spent our time together having sex and not talking.

Now, I knew that the scar on his abdomen was from emergency surgery after his appendix burst when he was eleven, while he was pitching in the Little League World Series. He waited to go to the hospital until after he won the game. He pitched four innings with a burst appendix.

Now, I knew that his favorite smell was grease because it reminded him of working on cars with his dad.

Now, I knew his favorite actor was Will Ferrell because after his dad died, his movies were the only thing that made him laugh and forget about the pain, even for just a few minutes.

Now, I knew that his first love was a girl who was here on vacation when he was thirteen, named Lucy. They had a two-week whirlwind romance and then wrote each other letters for a year before losing touch. Over a decade later, she showed up at a game he was playing as the starting pitcher of the Waves. She brought her husband and two kids with her. Her husband thanked him for setting the bar so high that she didn't date assholes in high school or college and waited for a man who treated her with love and respect. I knew that conversation meant the world to Harlan.

Now, I knew that he loved popcorn, but only on an empty stomach, and he had to drink Coke with it, not Pepsi.

Now, I knew that he wore socks to bed, and that his biggest fear was not being there if someone he loved needed him.

Now, I wanted to be there for him if he needed me.

Except, now I couldn't… because now I was leaving.

Tears began to form in my eyes, but I sniffed them away. I pulled up the schedule for the MFM stand. I'd hired several new employees with the money that I'd gotten from a distribution deal. Even though Aunt Rhonda had agreed and signed off on it—literally, I'd taken the contracts into the hospital to sign with a notary and everything—I worried that as soon as I left, she would just go back to business as usual and try to do everything herself. I was scared that she wouldn't take her health seriously. She needed help. And if she followed this plan, she'd be able to work from home and only work at the stand on the nights she wanted to, in a supervisory role.

After rubbing my bleary eyes once more, I stared at the computer and made notes for Aunt Rhonda, hoping to ease her transition and ensure that the new system was as easy to follow as possible.

As I did, a message appeared in the corner of the screen. It was an email from Ravi, one of the editors of Pulse . I clicked on it and saw that he'd sent me a link to a rough cut of the dates for the next installment of Dating in the City , except the word "City" was crossed out and beside it was written "Country " . The word Country was written in a rope text.

There were hyperlinks to five segments in total, one for each of the dates I went on. I metaphorically put on my producer hat, and a switch flipped in my brain automatically. I pulled up the program that would allow me to insert timestamped notes into the footage.

I watched as I went on dates with Elias, Mark, Jerry, and Jack. Each of the seven-minute segments had two to three edits that I wanted implemented. The final link was footage of my date with Harlan. For some reason, I found myself hesitating before I clicked on it.

My heart fluttered in my chest, and my palms grew damp as I pressed my finger on the mouse, and the arrow opened the link. I wasn't sure where my nerves were coming from. I supposed it was because I'd never actually liked any of the men I'd dated, so it never actually felt like an invasion of privacy to have cameras pointed at us.

The scene opened with an aerial drone shot of the Downtown Historic District. Then, it cut to a wide shot of the gazebo that Phil had taken. As I watched us playing with puppies and then us sitting under a blanket eating pizza as we watched the Gilmore Girls on a screen, I saw the way he looked at me and, more importantly, the way I looked at him, and a realization hit me.

I loved him.

I think there was a part of me that knew that before watching this footage, but now all of me knew that. I loved Harlan Mitchell. And I was leaving on Sunday. I was leaving a man I loved.

All the guys I'd been with before, who I'd morphed into being exactly who they wanted, I hadn't loved. But did that make a difference? What would Tina say? What's love got to do with it?

Love was just a feeling, right? It didn't change our circumstances. It didn't make the fact that he wanted to settle down and have kids and I wanted to…I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. And that was a problem.

I didn't know what to do. These were the moments I wished I had a mom that I could call and ask. A best friend to pick up the phone and get advice from. But I didn't. I glanced over at the picture of my Grammy Moore sitting on a horse and I picked it up.

"What should I do, Grammy?" I asked.

As soon as the question left my mouth, all the lights in the house went out and my computer shut down. It was definitely a sign. I just wasn't sure what the sign meant.