When I wake up in my old room the next morning I’m
flooded with a sense of vertigo. Memories of my
childhood rush through my mind, and suddenly I can
remember all the good times I’ve had in this house.
As I roll out of bed I notice that my bureau has been
organized and that my laptop is sitting on my dresser.
The closest thing to an apology I’m ever likely to get
from my mother.
After I dress and pack my suitcase I decide that now
is as good a time as any to check my e-mail. I turn on
my computer and curiously open my inbox.
Twenty-six messages in all. Pretty impressive, I must
say. I skim down the list to see who they’re from.
Twenty-two are from Josh, with one each from CJ, Sam,
Margaret, and the president.
The last e-mail address registers in my mind. The
President of the United States e-mailed me because my
mother stole my laptop.
Must. Kill. Josh.
With trembling hands I open the letter. It’s just what
I would expect from him, friendly and polite almost to
the point of irony. His postscript cools my
embarrassment, and I am now content to simply maim
Josh for blowing all this out of proportion.
Sam’s letter is hilarious; he alternates between
begging me to spare his life and hinting that Josh is
losing his mind without me.
Margaret and CJ don’t bother to hint. They tell me
flat out that he’s being unbearable. I can’t say I’m
really surprised. After all, I deal with Josh in his
undiluted state everyday. Maybe now that they see what
he is like without me I’ll finally get my raise.
Eventually I make my way to Josh’s e-mails. I expect
them to be his usual mix of obnoxious charm and
sarcasm, but what I find is, well, something else. I
didn’t really believe everyone’s descriptions of
Josh’s concern, but in his words I can hear him
arguing with CJ and Sam, nearly frantic with worry.
And I realize for the first time just how important I
am to him.
In the past twenty-four hours I’ve come to terms with
the fact that I may very well be in love with Josh.
I’ve also been making a list of all the reasons why
being in love with him is a bad thing. I won’t go into
all of them at the moment, but number one is all I
need to convince me that this won’t work.
Number One: Joshua Lyman is not, and never will be, in
love with me.
He cares for me, the past week’s events prove that
without a doubt. He may even love me in a friendly,
brotherly sort of way. But anything beyond that is
impossible.
I can’t let a little thing like this get my hopes up.
I lean back in my chair and fiddle with a small piece
of paper while I contemplate my arrival in DC. The
fact that Josh is picking me up complicates things a
bit. Oh well, it can’t be helped.
I really did miss him. I sigh and turn to stare at the
old tree that stands outside my bedroom window. I take
a deep breath and absorb every memory of my room, so-
Wait a minute. Isn’t there supposed to be a tree out
there? I look closer and I realize that I can’t see
anything out my window. What the hell?
Damn. Wisconsin in February. I am such a dumb ass.