Like Glass: A Novel by Sylvia Wilde & Left Field Publishers

Author:Sylvia Wilde & Left Field Publishers [Wilde, Sylvia & Publishers, Left Field]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Left Field Publishers
Published: 2023-04-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixty-Five

“We’re going where?” I balk, staring back at Moira, unblinking.

“On a trip. Just upstate, I think.”

“You think?”

“We’ll book hotels as we go,” she informs casually. “Then we can just, you know—adventure.”

Her eyes sparkle, and it terrifies me.

“Adventure?” I repeat, my tone betraying both skepticism and annoyance.

“Look,” she reasons, ‘it’s only a long weekend.”

“You do know I have a job, right?”

“Don’t you have time off?” she counters.

“I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. I mean, yeah. But I still have all the same expectations, so I’d need to work longer hours before I leave and when I return.”

“Pesky PTO tax,” she murmurs, as if it’s just something to get over.

“I’m not sure you understand,” I explain. “I already work twelve-hour days. I can’t exactly compensate for the lost time. There’s not a lot of buffer there.”

“So blow it off. Don’t get as much done.”

I think of the new board presentation. Scattered around my office are drafts of revised content, in which I’m trying to balance science and the petulant expectations of aging white men. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Jesus, how can it be that every week you have some new and super special project?”

“Because every week I have some new and super special project,” I affirm, giving her my death glare. “Seriously, the work is just one must-do, can’t-fail after another. That’s the job.”

“Sounds stressful.”

“Yep.”

“Like it’s going to take years off your life.”

“Probably.”

“And. . . like you need a vacation to recharge that brain of yours,” she concludes. “Bet it will make you more productive in the long run. People need rest, Trey.”

“I don’t.”

“Fine, well, I want you to come,” she declares, changing tactics.

“That’s supposed to make me want to go?”

“You’re my friend.”

“What is that? A guilt trip?”

“Nope. Just a reality. I would like you to come. It would give me joy. It’d be a kindness. A gift to me. You know, a chance for you to do something nice.” She looks at me askance. “But really, just get your ass in the car when I pull up.”

I exhale in frustration. “So where are we going?”

“Upstate.”

“Who else is going?”

“Just us,” she answers, not meeting my eye. I wonder if there’s subtext here I should be interpreting. As if sensing my uncertainty, she clarifies. “We’re friends, okay? It’s not, like, weird or anything.”

“Right. Never said it was.”

“So you’ll make it happen?” This time she looks directly at me, her face earnest, as if this trip means something to her.

“Yeah, fine,” I capitulate. “I’ll make it happen.”

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