and he could come see me in Phoenix. When he came to see me I of course had to take him home to meet my parents and my sister, as well as a few of my college friends who were still in the area.
Dustin was originally from Minneapolis and had gone to school at the University of Wisconsin, so he was totally unprepared for our blazing Arizona summer temperatures when he came to visit in early August.
“How the hell does anyone live here?” he asked in all sincerity, as if he simply couldn’t imagine that more than three million people in the Phoenix metro area did just that. Of course, the day he made that particular complaint was one that the temperature had topped off at 117 degrees and was over 90 degrees by 5:30 in the morning. So I could see how someone from Minnesota who had gone to school in Wisconsin and then had settled in L.A. could be incredulous about what we Arizonans took for granted. To us, it was mostly an annoyance for a couple of months that we put up with in exchange for temperatures often in the comfortable 70s during the winter months.
Despite his frequent complaints about the weather, my parents seemed to like him, and Lauren did as well. After he went back to San Francisco I was at my parents’ house for dinner one night and my mother, nosey as ever, asked:
“So where do you see things going?”
Before I had a chance to answer, Lauren responded for me:
“Oh Mom, just leave it alone. Lindsey is only 23 and she’s been out of school for just over a year. The chances of Dustin being the one she’s going to marry are pretty low, wouldn’t you agree?”
At first I was just about to jump all over my sister. How dare she! But just as fast as I got angry, that fury evaporated as if someone had just let the air out of a balloon. I just shrugged at my Mom in response, and my Dad artfully changed the subject to the musicals that he and Mom would be seeing at ASU’s Gammage Hall this fall and next spring as part of their next Broadway Season shows.
Shortly before Labor Day I got word that I would be headed back to L.A. right after the holiday for a new client. Even better, they sent me to the project where I now was, at MetroGen: only about ten minutes from my apartment! For the first time since I had finished the training program I was actually working in what I considered to be a “good” location, geography-wise. I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but I was supposed to be at MetroGen for at least four months, so that would take me through the rest of the year.
I had hoped that Dustin would find his way back to an assignment in the L.A. area. It didn’t work out that way, though. Dustin’s San Francisco assignment finished up at the same time my Phoenix one did, but they sent him to the project in Chicago where he now was. Worse, this one was what we had all been warned would be our fate at some point: the project from hell with horrendously long hours for months on end and mandatory weekend work out of town, meaning that coming home on every weekend was no longer a given.
And that’s where Dustin Pearson and I stood at this moment: with him 2,000 miles away and a weekend filled with work ahead of him, and me getting ready for a first date with another guy.
* * *
I was actually finished in the salon by 7:30, and I decided to stop for a quick tanning bed session before heading back home. I checked my cell phone and saw a missed phone call from Dustin, and another from Kensington.
I tried Kensie first, figuring that I wanted to talk through all of my roller-coaster feelings today about my date tomorrow with Zack as well as things with Dustin. But I got her voicemail, left a message for her to call me back, and then figured I might as well call Dustin now. I hadn’t talked to him all day; I hadn’t received a text from him nor had I sent one to him. Out of sight, out of mind? Perhaps, though not nearly as much as tomorrow, I guess.
His phone rang once and then started
Dustin was originally from Minneapolis and had gone to school at the University of Wisconsin, so he was totally unprepared for our blazing Arizona summer temperatures when he came to visit in early August.
“How the hell does anyone live here?” he asked in all sincerity, as if he simply couldn’t imagine that more than three million people in the Phoenix metro area did just that. Of course, the day he made that particular complaint was one that the temperature had topped off at 117 degrees and was over 90 degrees by 5:30 in the morning. So I could see how someone from Minnesota who had gone to school in Wisconsin and then had settled in L.A. could be incredulous about what we Arizonans took for granted. To us, it was mostly an annoyance for a couple of months that we put up with in exchange for temperatures often in the comfortable 70s during the winter months.
Despite his frequent complaints about the weather, my parents seemed to like him, and Lauren did as well. After he went back to San Francisco I was at my parents’ house for dinner one night and my mother, nosey as ever, asked:
“So where do you see things going?”
Before I had a chance to answer, Lauren responded for me:
“Oh Mom, just leave it alone. Lindsey is only 23 and she’s been out of school for just over a year. The chances of Dustin being the one she’s going to marry are pretty low, wouldn’t you agree?”
At first I was just about to jump all over my sister. How dare she! But just as fast as I got angry, that fury evaporated as if someone had just let the air out of a balloon. I just shrugged at my Mom in response, and my Dad artfully changed the subject to the musicals that he and Mom would be seeing at ASU’s Gammage Hall this fall and next spring as part of their next Broadway Season shows.
Shortly before Labor Day I got word that I would be headed back to L.A. right after the holiday for a new client. Even better, they sent me to the project where I now was, at MetroGen: only about ten minutes from my apartment! For the first time since I had finished the training program I was actually working in what I considered to be a “good” location, geography-wise. I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but I was supposed to be at MetroGen for at least four months, so that would take me through the rest of the year.
I had hoped that Dustin would find his way back to an assignment in the L.A. area. It didn’t work out that way, though. Dustin’s San Francisco assignment finished up at the same time my Phoenix one did, but they sent him to the project in Chicago where he now was. Worse, this one was what we had all been warned would be our fate at some point: the project from hell with horrendously long hours for months on end and mandatory weekend work out of town, meaning that coming home on every weekend was no longer a given.
And that’s where Dustin Pearson and I stood at this moment: with him 2,000 miles away and a weekend filled with work ahead of him, and me getting ready for a first date with another guy.
* * *
I was actually finished in the salon by 7:30, and I decided to stop for a quick tanning bed session before heading back home. I checked my cell phone and saw a missed phone call from Dustin, and another from Kensington.
I tried Kensie first, figuring that I wanted to talk through all of my roller-coaster feelings today about my date tomorrow with Zack as well as things with Dustin. But I got her voicemail, left a message for her to call me back, and then figured I might as well call Dustin now. I hadn’t talked to him all day; I hadn’t received a text from him nor had I sent one to him. Out of sight, out of mind? Perhaps, though not nearly as much as tomorrow, I guess.
His phone rang once and then started
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