Page 71 of Camp Bliss
And I want to be a better friend to him.
I just have no idea how.
If he needs anything, he does a good job of hiding it. He works all day—we both do—and, yeah, he seems tired sometimes. But he makes the back-breaking labor during the day and the paperwork and budget balancing he does in the evenings look easy.
And, no, I’m not letting him do all that by himself. When he gets out his laptop after dinner to look at our spreadsheets or research materials and contractors, it’s like he’s working on a puzzle, trying to find ways to make us more efficient, consolidate expenses, or learn how to do something himself.
I caught him watching a YouTube video on how to install luxury tile vinyl flooring the other night.
Yeah, he’s doing it to help us survive, but I also think he gets off on it. Like finding ways to improve things is a game, and he’s chasing the high of leveling up.
I really admire that about him. But that kind of competency makes it hard to know how I can support him.
“Can I do your laundry?” I blurt like a rando.
Zach might try, but he can’t hide his shock. “W-What?”
I set down my coffee, hoping there’s a way I can convince him I’m not delirious. “I want… to do something,” I try. And fail.
He cocks a confused brow. “You want todosomething.” His echo sounds like I’m proposing we dress up like astronauts and pretend the fifth wheel is the International Space Station.
Which, given the close quarters, isn’t that big of a stretch, but—
“Like what?” he asks.
“Like… something for you.”
His eyes blink wide.“For me?”
“Don’t look so surprised.” I reach over and give his shoulder a light shove. “You’ve been really good to me since… since all of this happened. I want to return the favor.”
Zach frowns and his mouth opens slightly. Then he clamps it shut and frowns harder. “It’s not a favor.”
“I knowthat.”
Alarm flares in his gaze. “You do?”
“Of course. It’s just who you are. It took me a while to see that, and that’s my own shortcoming—” I rush through this truth dump and wave a hand to indicate this is all water under the bridge. At least, I hope it is. “And I don’t want to be the one who just takes in this relationship. It feels like you are always saving me or taking care of me or looking out for me—”
Color flames his face, turning him into a lovely copper work of art, the way his skin almost matches his hair. Like a copper sculpture. It really is quite something. I shake my head and get back to my point.
“I don’t want to be the weak link here. To just suck you dry—”
Zach coughs and shifts on his stool.
“I know. I know. I’m embarrassing you. I’m sorry.” I sit up straighter so he sees I mean business. “I want to support you the way you support me. And—And be someone who makes your life easier too. A fully-fledged partner.”
Zach clears his throat. Then he palms his mouth and drags his hand down over his chin like he's marshaling his thoughts.
“Greta, that’s… that’s…”
“You’re better than me at damn near everything, so I figure if I take care of your laundry, it’ll—”
“You’re not doing my laundry.”
“It’s no big deal. I used to do Josh—”
His eyes practically fire laser beams. “You’renotdoing my laundry.”
