Boss in the Bedsheets - Kate Canterbary Page 0,118
cream sandwiches.
Then, my mother stepped toward us and brushed Zelda's hair back over her ear. "I love your stripe of indigo," she said. "It suits you."
"You're sweet. Thank you for saying that," Zelda replied. "We'll be along to the party soon."
Since they adored her and hung on every word she said, my parents accepted this and turned back toward the tent. If I'd said it, they would've dragged me along by the collar.
Once we were alone again, I asked, "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Many, many things," she said, laughing. "Can't walk in heels at all. Can't pick out a ripe melon. Can't mix a cocktail. Shall I continue?"
"You can but I still won't believe it."
She squeezed my arm. "You're adorable. Even when you work real hard at making people think you're not."
Instead of responding, I pointed at a bench nestled between two massive rhododendrons and guided Zelda there. Once we were seated, I lifted her legs onto my lap and watched her gaze out at the slow-lapping water.
I knew three absolute, incontrovertible truths as we sat there, my hands traveling over her legs and her smile outshining the stars.
One—I loved Zelda in a gasping, defenseless, bottomless way and I'd wait an entire lifetime for her to love me back.
Two—she saved me in every way one person could save another and it was possible I saved her too.
Three—I had to fire her right now.
27
Zelda
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn't need my parachute. The one I'd never finished mending, the one meant to rescue me from all my choices, situations. From myself.
I didn't need it tonight. I wanted to believe I didn't need it anymore but I knew better than that. Eggs in one basket, crops before the harvest, chickens before they hatched. All those farming metaphors applied here.
Though today felt like a turned corner. I knew I wasn't lost in my own life anymore. I wasn't dogged by fear and dread and waiting waiting waiting for something right to happen.
Weddings had that effect. They made life feel like it was overflowing with possibilities and there was hope for me and you.
Maybe that was why Ash blurted out that I love you. Maybe he was as caught up in the rush of all this as I was.
I hadn't replied because I was preoccupied with the amazed way those words slipped over his lips. Like he couldn't believe it—he couldn't believe me.
That was all right. I couldn't quite believe this either.
He circled his fingers around my ankle, tickling just a bit, and drew me out of my thoughts.
"You have fixed…everything," he said.
"I just pushed a few things around and found the right order for them."
"You fixed everything," he repeated. "Remember when I freaked out because I thought you didn't know what you were doing and I didn't want to let anyone else call the shots?"
"This sounds familiar," I joked. "Give me a minute. The memories are coming back."
"I was wrong about it but I still reacted." I nodded, not sure where Ash was taking this. "Keep that in mind, okay?"
A shiver crossed my shoulders. "What do you mean?"
He pulled in a breath, blew it out. "I accept your resignation."
I blinked. "What?"
"You fixed everything for me and now I have to fix something for you. I can't let you work for me. I can't—I won't be another guy who expects you to give up everything you want only to make his life better. I won't let you spend your days riding herd on me and running my office when you belong elsewhere."
There was a knot in my throat, a thick ball of anxiety stuck there like a dry crust of bread. "What—you're—wait, you're firing me?"
"I'm not going to let you force yourself to believe you want to manage an accounting office or you could be content with that work. That's not what you want, my love."
And this was why I couldn't put that parachute in storage yet. "But I want—"
"You want archaeology. You want to study pre-Columbian peoples and something about their deaths. You want academia and research and all of those outrageous Indiana Jones adventures."
I rubbed my temples. "You did not just bring Indiana Jones into this."
"Zelda, I love you. And because I love you, I can't let you waste your time working for me."
I couldn't catch up. One minute I was being fired, the next he loved me. And—and he wanted me to return to grad school. "Okay but you—you—"