A Symptom of Love (GERI Labs #1)

30. Surprises

30

Surprises

G randma: “Ellie, how are you doing honey? Make a sound.”

Eleanor: “Hi Savta, I’m okay. How are you?”

Grandma: “Been alive long enough to know you’re bullshitting over text.”

Har’el: “She’s exercising advanced concepts in positive thinking.”

Orly: “Honey, don’t let any of these nonsense comments on social media get you down.”

Eleanor: “I can’t believe you all saw it. Please don’t believe anything on social media, none of it is true.”

Grandpa: “I still don’t understand why you’d take that boy Oren back.”

Har’el: “No, Saba, she’s not with Oren again. It’s an old photo. She’s dating her professor now.”

Grandpa: “Oh, thank goodness, this wild boy Oren was not for her. Never made her happy.”

Orly: “Couldn’t agree more.”

Eleanor: “He’s not my professor and I am not dating him. And his name is Aiden. And I didn’t go back to Oren, that’s for sure.”

Grandma: “I don’t want Oren’s name mentioned in this chat again. Orly, honey, would you add this to the group rule page?”

Eleanor spends the rest of the day at the Harrington lab, tucked in her little dungeon, trying again, quite unsuccessfully, to avoid everyone.

“May I just say,” Mano stops by, shoving his head through the partly opened door, “this picture of you and that drummer, man! That’s hot! I think you’ve made a smart choice taking him back. Although the second photo with Professor Kowalski is no less—”

“Mano, I don’t think that’s helpful.” Antoine jumps in right behind him, trying to herd him back into his lab.

“Antoine, I know that you’re more into same-sex kind of thing,” Mano grins, “but for heterosexuals—this is some steamy shit!” He zooms in on the photo on his phone screen. “I never want to unsee it.”

“Same-sex kind of thing, Mano?” Antoine snorts, clearly not taking Mano’s comment to heart. “But Eleanor is our colleague,” he says with a heavy French accent. “Our friend. So we’re here to support, not make comments about these posts, and no zooming in.” He snatches the phone out of Mano’s hand and deletes the photo.

“So were you cheating on your rock star with Professor Kowalski or the other way around? I’m confused.” Mano can’t help himself. “And who’s a better kisser?”

“Mano!” Antoine scolds.

“No, Mano. This guy in the photo is my ex. That’s an old photo, from like five years ago when we were still together.” For some reason, she still feels like she has to explain. “And Aiden… Professor Kowalski and I, for the past few months we were friends. I wanted more but he kept turning me down,” she admits, even though the HR gang made it pretty clear that this whole thing should be under embargo.

“It didn’t look like he was turning you down in San Diego,” Mano says, a sly smile on his face. “Man, the way you were devouring him at the dance party… No wonder you had unlimited reagent budget.”

“Eleanor, please ignore him. That’s enough big guy.” Antoine pulls Mano by his shirt and turns back to Eleanor. “I apologize on my colleague’s behalf. And if there’s anything I can do to help, or if you need someone to talk to, or just get you some of the good coffee, I’m here for you.” He gives her a heartwarming wink.

“Dance party? You were there?” She can feel blood rushing to her ears.

“Uh-huh,” Mano nods haughtily.

“UnderDog28… is you,” she mumbles. She debates between the thousand options for revenge one can choose to take in a lab full of hazardous chemicals. But Antoine beats her to it, landing his clenched left fist in Mano’s face. It doesn’t knock the villain down, but should at least leave him with a nasty black eye for a while.

Being far away from home, far away from her family and most established support system, somehow makes everything feel like a dream. A bad dream. Or more like a nightmare. Her brain seems to be under the impression that if she got on a plane and flew back home, she’d wake up, and things would immediately fall back into place. Her issues would be resolved and life would go back to normal, the normal she once knew. It might not be very rational, but she has a strong urge to just pick up her stuff, shove it in her suitcase, book the first flight she can find, and go back home. As if her troubles are bound to a specific location, and being home would magically reverse and erase everything.

Would she want to erase everything though? Being with Aiden is the one thing that made her feel like she belonged. The one person who made her feel home again. But if she could take the mess in Aiden’s life away, reverse that sad-broken, forlorn look on his face—she would.

On her way back to the apartment, after working way too many hours—her go-to activity any day, but especially on such a terrible one—a plan quickly forms in her head. She’s already looking at flight options while jiggling her keys into the lock. She wants to go home. She needs to be home. There, even if not fully resolved, things will surely feel better. She had wanted to be alone, and had traveled thousands of miles away from home to achieve it, only to realize that being alone wasn’t really what she needed. Quite the opposite actually.

She walks in, kicking her shoes off by the door, hanging her rain jacket, dropping her backpack to the floor, her usual post-work routine. A shower would be next.

She wants to go home so bad that she can almost smell her mom’s cooking.

“Ellie!”

Or even hear her dad’s voice.

Her mind has gone to the incredible length of willing itself to imagine her parents standing in front of her.

She blinks several times. That’s pretty wild, even for her imagination.

“Ima? Aba?” she says in disbelief.

The two people she would most like to see in the entire world right now pull her in to their famous family hug. She really needed this hug. And just like her five-year old self who bruised her knee at kindergarten, staying brave and composed until she was reunited with her parents—that’s when she finally allows herself to let go and break down. Tears start flooding her eyes, wetting her face. She’s overwhelmed by emotions she had no idea she was bottling up. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she says in Hebrew.

Her mom pulls her by the sleeve and sits her down on the pink sofa, taking her right side, and her dad takes the left. The three of them are huddled closely, like they used to when she was a kid.

“We figured, since you’re so far away from home, we’ll bring home over to you,” her mom says in Hebrew, then tries to repeat it in English for Alannah, who’s been standing in the kitchen, shedding some empathetic tears of her own.

“How did you know I wanted to go home?”

“Well, your very brief texts lately gave it away. Then Aiden called your mom,” her dad says.

“Aiden? Why would he…? He’s mad at me, he wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. It must have been someone else,” Eleanor blabbers. “Did he have a French accent? Probably, that would be Antoine, he’s my friend—"

“No, honey. It was Aiden,” her mom says with certainty.

“Are you sure?”

“I am very sure. It was a WhatsApp video call. The same guy from the selfie, from the airport. Your man.”

Her man… Ima knows everything. Except that he’s no longer her man, thanks to Eleanor’s relentless efforts to get into his pants. And her fear of relationships.

“That doesn’t make sense Ima… What did he say?”

“He cares about you. A great deal. He said you’re going to need our support. It was shortly after that post and comments started popping up. I don’t know this gentleman too well, but he looked so worried, and sad.”

Only her mom could still call the guy a gentleman after reading those comments and seeing their smutty photo together. But she focuses on the more important thing: Aiden cares about her. Even now. Even when he’s neck-deep in this mess, even after thinking she’s back in her ex’s arms, he still makes sure she’s surrounded by her support system.

But does he have anyone to support him? Eleanor doubts that he’s shared any of it with his dad or Kim.

“There’s no one,” he told her that night, when he was too drunk for his own good. “ Just you.”

She’s here, surrounded by parental affection and pieces of home. And Aiden…

He’s all alone.

“Luckily there were some spots on the direct flight, so we just hopped on it, and here we are.” Her mom’s voice pulls her back into the room. “And don’t worry, your dad and I won’t be bothering you too much, our travel agent booked us rooms in this quaint hotel down the road, it’s just five minutes’ walk from here, so we won’t be sitting on your vein,” she switches back to Hebrew. “Sorry honey.” She smiles to Alannah. “I’m not sure whether this expression could be translated to English word for word.”

“No worries, I got the context.” Alannah smiles and joins them in the living room, carrying a tray with tea and freshly made vegan cookies. “And don’t be ridiculous, you’re staying with us.”

“Yes, you can take my room, this sofa turns into a bed,” Eleanor insists. “Wait, did you just say ‘rooms?’ As in more than one room?”

“Yes.” Her mom smiles. “You didn’t think we’d share a room with Gillie, did you? I mean, we love him like our own child, but—"

“Gillie?!” Eleanor perks up. “Is he here—” she starts to say before getting swiped off her feet into a familiar Gillie-bear-hug.

“Of course I’m here! Where else would I be?” His laughter floats through the room, warming even the coldest and broken-est of hearts. “Told you I was on my way. Ask your grandma, I wrote it in the chat.”

Grandma: “Ellie, honey, did the package arrive?

Eleanor: “Package?”

Grandma: “Your parents and Gillie. Did they make the trip safely?!”

Eleanor: “Oh, yes, Savta, they’re sending their love.”

Grandma: “And how is work treating you?”

Eleanor: “Fine, thanks.”

Grandma: “Good. Now listen to your Savta, it’s time to follow your heart.”

Eleanor: “Savta, following my heart is a risky business.”

Grandma: “Honey, not following your heart is the real risk. Now go take that leap of faith.”

Har’el: “You people are aware that we’re on this group chat too, right? This is getting cringier by the minute!”

“I have to agree with your grandma on this one,” her mom says as she puts down the phone and gently squeezes Eleanor’s knee. “Have you told Aiden how you feel?” She grins broadly.

“No Mom, he tried to talk to me, and I shut him down. First, I was too busy being scared of relationships, then too busy being mad at him. And now he won’t talk to me. Actually, he’s not allowed to talk to me because of this stupid investigation… And I really need to talk to him.”

“What investigation?” Alannah asks. They’ve been going back and forth between Hebrew and English, trying to keep Alannah in the loop.

“GERI are running an internal HR investigation. To make sure there wasn’t sexual harassment or abuse of position of power or any other stupid terms they’re able to shove between us.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re both adults and you can both do whatever you want on your own private time. He’s not your boss, and there’s no rule against romantic relationship between GERI employees and postdocs.” Alannah has some hidden legal potential.

“They said it was about perception. It’s a high-profile incident, thanks to the evil UnderDog28, who turned out to be Mano from the Harrington lab, who made the original post and tagged Oren’s fans and GERI. They want to make sure they don’t expose themselves to lawsuits or God knows what. It’s all in this long email. I barely read half.” Eleanor hands her phone to Alannah.

“I’m going to kill Mano,” Alannah mumbles. “So you can’t speak with Professor Kowalski, not even over the phone?”

“No, they said no meeting him in person, no phone calls, no emails, no text messages. And especially not to reach out to him through social media.”

“Well, sounds like there’s one avenue they’ve missed,” Gillie chimes in, a big smile on his face. He takes a noisy sip from a cup of tea Alannah has just handed him, creating a dramatic sound effect. All eyes are on him now. “How about an actual letter? You know, old-fashioned pen and paper? Have they mentioned anything about that?”

“I guess with modern technology they forgot about that. I actually started drafting what I was going to say to him. Maybe I could turn it into a letter.” Eleanor feels a renewed spark of energy. “And it would be impossible to track if I hand deliver. Gillie, you’re a genius!”

“Thank you, I get that a lot,” he chuckles.

“But babe,” Alannah jumps in. “You can’t be spotted by his house. And he’s not going to show up at work, Yan said he’s on leave.”

“Yeah, on leave until this whole thing clears. But I have a work around.”