collapsed onto my bed and placed my phone on my knees. I wanted to smother the screen with kisses but settled for an air-peck near his lips.
âWhere are you? How are you? Is it awful? Are you okay?â My words came out in a rush before Iâd even given Nate a chance to say hello. I took a breath and smiled. âHi.â
âHi.â His grin was soft, his eyes tired. A hint of stubble dotted his chin. I wondered how long heâd been awake. The time difference between Oregon and Central America was only an hour. âIâm outside Tegucigalpa,â he said. âThere are two other Americans with me, and weâre training with the doctors now. And learning Spanish.â
âBut you speak Spanish!â
âItâs different here,â he said. âLike, I know the language, but then when Iâm surrounded by it . . .â He rolled his eyes as if he were overwhelmed. âItâs not easy.â His smile slipped a little, betraying anxiety. My Nate? Worried?
âYouâll be fine,â I told him soothingly. âWhat about the training? Do you like the doctors?â
âTheyâre amazing!â He went on to tell me about the group of doctors and relief workers who were part of his team, about the other volunteers from the US and Canada. I didnât catch all of it as the connection between our phones started to drop out. While Nate talked, I slowly rose from the bed and walked to the window, hoping to get more bars on my phone.
â. . . rainforest . . . ,â I heard. And then â. . . gangs . . .â
Gangs? We had talked about some of the dangers. In Central America there was a lot of unrest. Was he seeing signs of it alreadyâbefore they had even left base camp?
âWhat? Nate, youâre breaking up.â His face pixilated on the screen and then righted itself when I leaned out the window and got more range. âNate?â
âIâm here,â he said, waving a hand at me. âMiddie?â
âIâm here too.â I waved back.
âThis is probably the best itâs gonna be for a while,â he admitted with a frown. âThe service is only going to get worse when we leave for the village.â
I felt my chest tighten. âWhat about texts?â
He held his phone out farther from his face and I saw his shoulders shrug. I strained to see behind him, to get a picture of where he was and what he was doing. I couldnât see much but a bulletin board with a map on it and the corner of a metal bunk bed.
His image started to get funky again. No, no, no! I leaned farther out the window until my head and arms were free. I filled my lungs with clean late-summer air, as if I could suck it all in for Nate. There was so much I wanted to tell him: the SAT prep classes I was taking, his old-lady fans at the farm, the upcoming party. But it all paled in comparison to what Nate was doing and where he was doing it.
âMiddie? I should go. Iâm really tired and I have to get up early.â
âOh, sure.â But I didnât want him to leaveânot yet. âDid you open the box?â
âThe box? No, was I supposed to?â
âGet it! Open it! But just take one out, okay? One thing?â I waited while he rummaged in his backpack for the shade box Iâd given him. When he came back to the phone, he held it up. âReach your hand in and close your eyes,â I told him.
He did as I instructed, closing his eyes to me. He looked like he was sleeping with a smile on his face. âCan I open my eyes?â He peeled open one eye at me and squeezed the other shut.
âYes! What do you have?â I watched with delight as he stared down below the screen at something I couldnât see. He grinned in recognition. âWhat? Which is it?â
He held the fortune cookie paper up to the camera. The love of your life has always been right in front of you. âYour fortune,â he