Graham sat alone in his cubicle, swiveling slowly back and forth in his desk chair, his eyes focused on the empty space in front of him. His first week back in the office had felt like a real homecoming, a diluted corporate equivalent of the soldier returning from victory on the battlefield. He'd been greeted warmly, clapped on the back, sufficiently congratulated. He’d even been the subject of the coveted, company-wide email, which announced the successful Go Live of the new client and lauded Graham for his hard work and dedication in shouldering such a heavy burden in such an aggressive timeline.
It was enough praise and gratification that, for a moment, Graham was almost glad to be back. He almost returned to his old ways of being – seeking approval and external validation from Task A while waiting to be handed Task B. He felt impactful, important, and valued. But then, as it always does, life moved on. His return became old news, his success just another metric in a long line of client records, lost in the hustle and bustle of new business and prospective sales opportunities.
His eyes refocused, and he stared at his computer screen, which displayed the window of their customer relationship management system. He hadn’t had much to work on in the two weeks since he’d been back. He spent most of his time daydreaming, interrupting that only on occasion to fill out some administrative writeups, a client survey, a billing and expense report, and some training documentation. It wasn’t much, and without any new, designated project work to focus on, Graham found himself feeling suddenly dispensable, as if he didn’t have a reason to show up.
He picked up his cell phone for the hundredth time that day, staring at the blank notifications menu, and opened his messages. His eyes quickly gravitated to the third thread from the top, to the name that sucked the air from his lungs faster than a spaceship airlock. He looked at the final message that had been sent.
Sounds perfect! I’ll try to be there when you get back.
His fingers tapped the screen and hovered over the keyboard that appeared, motionless, tense, ready to spring into action if only inspiration would give them the fuel they required. But, as had happened every time since he came home, the words did not appear. He watched the cursor blink on his screen, a cruel reminder of each second passing by, putting more distance between him and the warm, glowing memories of gin and tonics, late night talks, and sweaty hotel bed sheets. He cursed himself, his complacency, his cowardice, his compulsive overthinking.
Just send a goddamn message, he thought.
But what was there to say?
“Hey” sounded juvenile and hollow, like some pathetic attempt at a booty call rather than a reach across the universe to try and communicate the depth of his emotions.
“I miss you” sounded desperate and pathetic. Worse, it sounded possessive, like Archie was still his to miss, even though Graham knew he deserved the freedom to move forward with his next chapter of his life. The last thing he wanted to be was a weight around Archie’s ankle, slowing him down, chaining him to the past.
And then there was another message, one he’d not yet summoned the courage type onscreen. Three words glowing in black and white, made real by their digital manifestation. But to say that in a text? Like some silly, starcrossed teen? Archie deserved better.
No, he knew the time to say that had passed. He’d let it slip away when he bit his tongue that last night in bed, choosing silence over the truth. He’d let it slip away when Archie disappeared that final morning and he’d done nothing about it, simply showered, packed his suitcase, wiped the tears that periodically trickled down his cheeks, and loaded up the rental car for that final journey home.
Archie was young, he had a bright future ahead of him, holding in it the potential for a hundred other moments like the ones they’d briefly shared.
But Graham? His moment had passed.
He dropped his phone on the desk and decided to go for coffee. He’d taken up the habit of a mid-day walk since he’d been back, the only improvement he’d made so far in his post-exilic life. It was a cloudy day, humid and warm, the gray light oversaturating the colors and turning the trees a heightened shade of green. Graham tried to notice this as he walked the block to the coffee shop. He tried to smile and make small talk with the barista – a handsome blond named Alex, who always wore a beanie and had a rather appealing piercing on his left eyebrow. But the effects of this twenty-minute escape unfortunately wore off almost as soon as he returned to his office. He took his seat in his cubicle, the plastic cup sweating in his hand, and prayed the afternoon would hurry up and end.
Fortunately, he was soon interrupted by one of the administrative assistants, Jessica, letting him know he was being requested in his boss’s office. Graham thanked her, took a swig of his coffee, and started down the hall
“Graham!” Jerry’s voice boomed as he greeted Graham from his chair. Jerry was in mid-fifties, with graying hair, a full belly, and a personality that positively lived for Business. “Come on in, come on in.”
“Hey Jerry,” Graham smiled politely and took a seat at one of the hard, plasti armchairs in front of Jerry’s desk.
“They really loved you up there in Des Moines,” Jerry continued. “They’ve been in contact with Mike since you got back singing praises to your name.”
Graham smiled, touched by the thought of this. He was almost positive it was Charlie handling communications with Mike, their account manager, and it made Graham miss Charlie, their shared lunchtime chats, their unhurried strolls to the parking lot after a long day in the conference room. He wondered what Charlie had moved on to now, what work filled his day now that their meetings and training sessions had come to an end. More specifically, he wondered about Charlie going home to his husband, about their children, about the home they’d built together. He found it appealing, this masculine domesticity, this idea of coming home to a man who knew him, understood him, wanted him, and sharing a life together. And he found himself wondering, even now, outside of the bubble he’d built in Des Moines, if this might actually be an option for him.
Jerry’s voice interrupted this train of thought.
“They’ve already agreed to give us some quotes for sales collateral, and they told Mike they’d be happy to speak at next year’s User Conference about their success as a new client. I think you secured us a great ally with these guys.”
“I’m glad,” Graham nodded. “Honestly, it was easy. They were a joy to work with.”
“Icing on the cake,” Jerry smiled. “I know I’ve said it already, but excellent work. You’ve always been a strong performer, but you really just proved to me – and to everyone here – that you’re an absolute asset to this team.”
“Thanks Jerry. It means a lot to hear you say that,” Graham forced a smile. The truth was, he wasn’t sure he cared. Sure, it was nice to hear this kind of feedback from his boss, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d spent the last two weeks sitting alone in a cubicle looking for something to give meaning to his days, for something to get him out of bed in the morning, for something to let him go home in the evening with the satisfaction of having done something with his time.
“Well, I was hoping to share this with you sooner, but…” he clapped his hands together for emphasis. “I’ve just gotten approval for your promotion and a raise. If you can handle a full-scale implementation like that, you’re not just a senior consultant anymore. So, new title, Senior Solution Architect. New salary will start next pay period.”
“Senior?” Graham asked, a little shocked. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” Jerry waved a hand dismissively. “I figured we could skip over a level. Why bother when you’ve already proven you’ve got the know-how.”
“That’s…” Graham struggled for the words. “Thank you. That’s huge.”
“Don’t mention it,” Jerry forged ahead. “You’ll earn it, I have no doubt.”
Something about that sentence, pitched in good humor, landed in Graham’s chest with a violent thud. He knew that was true. A Senior Solution Architect position meant more travel, more implementations, more ownership of significant projects that would inevitably take up more of his time and energy. And, right now, he wasn’t sure that was the reward Jerry meant it to be.
“You know,” Jerry continued enthusiastically. “Mike got an email from the folks in Des Moines asking if you could be their system administrator while they settle into the application.”
Graham’s ears perked up at this information, and he remembered his conversation with Charlie those last few days. An unexpected pang of excitement shook behind his ribcage, and he wondered if he might be given marching orders back to Des Moines for some additional training and configuration.
“But I told Mike to tell them, hell no! Respectfully, of course.” Jerry’s laughter boomed through the tiny office, suddenly too loud and abrasive for Graham’s taste. “I told him there’s no way I could waste one of my best consultants on system admin duties! Throw that to some new guy. No, I’ve already got my eye on more for you.”
Graham felt himself start to deflate, and it took all his energy to keep the interested smile held together on his face.
“So we are in the final stretch of closing a deal with a very exciting client in Los Angeles,” Jerry confided in him like it was the most exciting secret he knew. “Full application, all modules, mobile functionality, the works. Twelve week implementation, plus training, in beautiful, sunny California. Picture it! Spend your days kicking ass in the conference room and spend your evenings at the beach or trying some fancy L.A. restaurant that wants to convince you vegan food is actually edible.”
Jerry’s laughter boomed again.
“And, I know you seemed to enjoy the weekend stayovers, so we’ve already mentioned ways to reduce the time you waste going to and from L.A.” Graham nodded gratefully, ignoring the sour taste in his mouth. “We haven’t signed the papers yet, but I think you’re the man for the job. What do you say?”
Graham paused, frozen.
The thought of packing up his life again, shoving it into a carry-on suitcase and starting over in another strange city, even one as potentially interesting as Los Angeles, just felt agonizingly heavy. He’d barely had a chance to catch his breath since he’d been home – his apartment still felt strange and foreign, his social life consisted of the occasional Chipotle run and consistent overuse of his right hand. He’d barely started figuring out what life back home might look like, and now he was being told that whatever progress he did happen to make might face another three-month interruption. He thought of Charlie’s comment about reaching for the empty suitcase only to find it felt heavy, and realized his suitcase felt like lead.
And yet, what excuse did he have to refuse?
Julie was starting a new chapter of life with Chris. He saw Eli on their weekend outings and their Wednesday night dinners, but other than that handful of hours his life largely consisted of work, going to the gym, and sitting at home feeling shit about himself. And in that routine, with nothing to do and nothing to look forward to, he found himself missing Archie so much it hurt.
So Graham took a deep breath, shook off his sadness and agitation, and tried to widen his smile just a little so that it might pass as genuine.
“California?” Graham asked. “I guess I better go buy some sunscreen.”
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