Welcome to Gaia! ::

How badly do I look? It must be something concerning, something as much as her own face betrayed. He hated looking into mirrors, anymore. He hated who looked back, whatever the man there chose to be called. But it there was so much truoble apparent in him, that Orah was concerned, it was better to address it.

She might try asking around otherwise, which would create too much of a trail.

"I am not used to working so much. And my family is all overseas now. They wait...I delay. It is a hard choice. If I will leave America and go live in Scandinavia. Or if I will stay, and must find a permanent home. Mortgage is cheaper than rent. If I seem troubled, that is all. Grown decisions are expensive." Björn wondered if it was mean to allow himself to be drawn further along in conversations. No, it was. It was using Orah. Just because it was nice to sit near another, to have some sort of pleasant physical contact, it was cruel to make use of it knowing that he wasn't going to contact her later. "I don't have to make the decision fast. But it is there. It has been many months already. Making plans with you...I hadn't known if you were still in Destiny City. I don't know who is. I will leave some people behind if I go. I will be as sad to leave them as my family now. "

"Have you been overseas, Orah?"

It was possible, since high schools often sponsored summer two or three week trips for juniors and seniors in Spain, France, and Germany. What might Orah have taken? There was also college. She was in college now. They did semesters abroad in college.

He’d grown up fairly unique despite attending public school. Other students rarely had been abroad, let alone been born overseas. It was possible that Orah was a naturalized citizen, even, if her Father had grown up in Ireland. He could be Irish. And her Mother, family in India? Had Orah been born on Embassy grounds? Or one of the two parents was an American, despite family in other countries? Was Orah naturalized? Maybe she was on a visa. He didn’t know what Irish visas were like with the United States. Or if the either North or South parts of that country had different treaties with the United states regarding dual citizenship. His own mother had needed to remind him constantly. Anna made him a chart to study regarding his own paperwork and necessities. Birthright because of soil had allowed him to be an American Citizen, and Anna’s blood allowed him to be a Citizen of Sweden. Things were complicated here and there with the changes in laws and dual citizenships through the early 2000s, but their frequent travel back and forth had provided proof of connection and domicile that he hadn’t lost his Swedish citizenship that very January. That situation was what Anna had masterfully come to suggest for why he should need to return to Europe. It was the how in setting in motion....events and plans that seemed more and more impossible by the day.

It was a point of connection, strange to find significant or to hold on to, but it was there. Desperation. For anything that touches another. I need to be careful. Be more careful.

“I will do that. Hopeful I can decide before April flowers, “ he ignored the error on the adverb. Kept moving, “ If not, after our adventure.”

“Maybe I can meet this Laney when I drop by your flowershop? I can be curious if she will blush if I ask about your name. Maybe more than you, with the holidays celebrated.” Which was a segue and reminder of their drinks, the packages, the shopping, and how long they’d been there. I don’t want to go. I want to stay. Here, shoulder to shoulder. Hear her talk about Ireland, about her classes...even if I won’t understand any of it. She has a nice voice. Orah is always kind, and speaks slow and clear. I cannot keep her. I could not keep Colin. I could not keep Anna. I want to meet her Laney. To see them both at lunch, sharing chips out of one bag and someplace normal. Sandwiches. If they would order a full one and each have half. I could have carried the tray from the counter and they would quickly unclasp hands, as though ‘caught’ and not wanting to make it weird for the third friend along.
It is never so. It is so lovely. It is so far away.

Reluctantly he offered over a hand, if she wanted, to help her up. Both together. He tried to joke, gently off color, to mask pain, “A celebration I make you late. Celebrations need presents, even if it is a bow you need to buy to wear. “

“Thank you for calling out. For remembering me. It is so good to see you again…” It felt impossible to express how much good it felt. Beyond the worry, panic and caution. She was alive, recovering from some illness, still kind and gentle. Still Orah.