He gestures me to the leather chair and sits on the couch. Because his office is in a reclaimed warehouse, the only view is the worn brick of another warehouse. “Tell me your plans.”
I’ve prepped this—Anjali suggested I treat this like a job interview so I spent three hours creating smart answers to every question he might have—and I’m ready.
I tell him my goals: the app, the analog planners, the eventual community of people helping each other reach their goals by providing tips and encouragement. He listens and doesn’t interrupt me once. I pull out my business plan and he pages through, asking questions I have ready answers for and a few that make me think.
“Sounds good,” he says when I finish. “I want in.”
Then he names an amount of money that shorts out my brain and gives me the contacts of people who can help, including an app developer who was on my short list. His lawyer will be in touch.
When I get outside, my teeth chatter in stress-citement. It’s all happening so fast that I can’t take it in. I send Anjali a quick text and get a blast of emojis back and a promise that she needs the whole story once she’s out of her meeting. Fangli sends a video of her blowing a kiss.
Sam sends nothing because I’m too gutless to contact him.
I check my website—downloads slowing but going strong. I email all the contacts Robin gave me, right there on the street. Then I stand there, filled with restless energy. I want to yell into a forest and dance around a fountain until I exhaust myself.
Mom. I’ll go see Mom and tell her what’s going on. That will soothe me.
There’s a bus coming and within the hour, I sign in at Glen Lake. When I get to Mom’s room, I stop. She’s speaking to someone in a soft voice so I decide to give them a moment to finish; it must be one of the aides or a nurse.
As I stare at the framed picture of the sweet white kitten, I pull out my phone. I haven’t been able to get Sam out of my mind and I can’t put it off any longer. This is my true Don’t Think, Do task. I send the text to the number Fangli gave me and I do it fast, before I can think about it anymore. The same message as before.
Hi, Sam.
A ping comes from inside Mom’s room.
Forty-One
What? I stare at my phone, then at the door. When I reach out to open it, I note clinically that my fingers are trembling.
Sam is sitting next to my mother, holding her hands. They both look up at me, twin expressions of surprise on their faces.
“Sam?”
This is weird. This is very weird because Sam is supposed to be in China doing movie-star things, not here in my mom’s long-term care home, dressed in jeans and a white shirt.
I want to rush across the room but my feet step backward into the hall as I frown at them. Why is he here, alone with Mom?
Sam’s eyes track my progress, and he must think I’m about to make a run for it because he gives Mom’s hands a squeeze before crossing the room to stand in front of me. “Gracie.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know where to look because I can’t focus through my newly blurry eyes. Shit. I’m crying. Sam reaches out to run his thumb across my cheekbone, and when I don’t move, he comes in a bit closer.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. He ducks down to hear me. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Sam looks astonished. “I should apologize to you. I gave up after you left in the café because I’m a stubborn fool.”
“I don’t think I was in a mood to listen.”
“Maybe not but I should have tried harder.”
This is not a productive discussion so I turn to the more salient point. “I don’t understand why you’re here. In my mom’s room?”
He takes such a deep breath that it whooshes out when he exhales and he closes his eyes.
“Sam?” I don’t know how many more butterflies will fit in my chest before they burst out Alien-style.
“Jiayou,” he whispers, opening his eyes. “Come on, Sam. You can do it.”
“What?”
Sam takes my face in his hands and silences me with a kiss that travels down to my toes. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says in a rush. “No, I know I am. I should have told you sooner.”
I feel the blood rush to my face under his touch.
“I’m here because I missed you. I needed to see you.” He runs his hands down my arms. “Fangli told me about her visit and that you had my number but you never called. I couldn’t stand it. I thought I might see you here, to talk in person.”