Elias
While it may be evening on the East Coast, it's only early afternoon in California. Elias is sitting in a workspace that is a little more crowded than his last, nursing a paper cup of coffee and a cafe style sandwich that has been in its wrapper perhaps a little longer than the lettuce would have liked. He grabs his phone during his self imposed dinner break and scrolls through the contact list. Settling on Natalie's name, he punches send and lets the phone ring.
Natalie answers the phone swiftly. Apparently she is sitting by it, or it by her. It flips open, and on the other end Natalie breathes a somewhat tired, "Hi, Elias."
"Hey. I had a break and it's been a while, so I thought I'd call." The message, while still bearing the air of someone prepared to leave a message, grows more animated by the word, though never rising above an acceptable energy level at work. Elias sounds rather conversational by the time he adds, "How're you?"
"Tired," Natalie replies bluntly, drawing her eyes closed with a slow breath out. "What do you want?"
"Just to say hi." Eli responds, brow furrowing. "This a bad time?"
"What? No," Natalie startles with a frown. She pushes herself up to stand and paces toward the kitchen with long strides. "I'm not busy."
"So, your defense? How'd that go?" Elias begins to open up the sandwich and starts picking it apart.
Natalie blinks rapidly, and there's a silence that, if Elias were here, would be Natalie staring blankly at him. Eventually she says, "Uh-- okay."
"That's good." Eli allows the silence for a little while this time, pulling strands of bean sprouts off his bread.
"Yes," Natalie says simply, and drops back into silence.
"So, rewrites or did you pass?" Eli queries more.
"Passed," Natalie answers briefly. "Letters after my name, now."
"Very nice. Have you ordered stationary yet?" Eli peels a tomato off and takes a bite. Nom.
"Why would I order stationary?" Natalie baffles.
"Seems appropriate that you have a nice little note pad that reads, 'From the desk of Dr. Natalie Simon, PhD.'" Eli slouches forward and rests his elbow on the work table.
"I don't really write letters," Natalie points out, pacing back across the living room.
"Well, it could be for instructional notes for undergrads." Elias frowns and stops picking at his sandwich. "How's Bahir?"
"I don't teach," Natalie reminds, a bit sharply.
"Well, I didn't think you were going to teach - Just 'hands off my stuff' or 'this is my lunch.'" Elias frowns.
"Elias," Natalie explains very, very, /very/ patiently. "If I do not teach, there are no undergrads."
"Fine." It's not angry. It's a bland response.
On the other end of the line, Natalie rolls her eyes and is silent.
"So." Statement. Full stop.
"A needle. Pulling thread," Natalie adds, dryly.
"Heh." Eli shakes his head. "You never said how Bahir was."
"How the fuck do you think he is, Elias?" Natalie bites a bit harshly as her feet carry her back across her space again. "His twin brother died."
"Natalie..." There's a wince in his tone. "I - I'm not trying to - hell. I don't know what I'm trying to do."
"Yeah, well, neither do I, Elias," Natalie snaps in reply.
"All I've gotten from him is a text message."
"So?" Natalie shoots back.
"I offered to fly back. He called me a moron." Eli is tired now.
"Well, it was kind of a stupid thing to say," Natalie answers, her tone clearly and deeply exasperated.
"Okay." It's Eli's turn to lapse into silence.
"You're in California," Natalie points out.
"Yep. Would have offered from Europe too, had I been there." Dry.
"No, Elias," Natalie answers in annoyance. "You don't get it. You're in /California/. You /live there/."
"Yes. I do. It's the same country, Natalie. Besides, I am going to be back for Thanksgiving and through the 3rd of December." Elias shifts topics, slightly, stopping abruptly when he realizes it.
"And then you are going back to California," Natalie says pointedly.
"So this makes things - I don't know, impossible?" Eli's eyes roll.
There is silence from Natalie's end of the phone.
"Okay." Eli sounds defeated. "I guess that means lunch is out."
"Oh, come off it, Elias, it's really fucking annoying," Natalie says, in a tone that makes it clear that she's not kidding.
"Which part? The part where I'm hurt you're dismissing me or the part where I don't understand - because I don't." Eli grows a bit snippish.
"The part where you are pretending that nothing changes when you move across the entire country!" Natalie retorts.
"I never claimed that nothing would change." Eli stiffens. "And if I did, I was being blissfully oblivious."
"No, you just act like it!" Natalie accuses.
"Of course, I act like it. It's called a brave face, Natalie. A stiff upper lip." Elias inhales sharply between the rapid flow of words. "Do you think I like giving up everyone I know for a job - an occupation? All I can keep telling myself is that it's temporary. I'll be back in a couple years. And even that doesn't feel comforting anymore."
"Yeah, well, that sucks," Natalie answers, although her tone is not very sympathetic. At all.
"You're a doctor now. Haven't you been given any out of state job offers yet?"
Natalie laughs shortly and chooses not to reply.
Elias, in turn, says nothing.
And so silence goes.
"Looking for a job yet?"
"I'm sorry, that's where we're going now? 'Looking for a job yet'?"
"I was trying - and failing, but trying - to find another topic." Elias grumbles.
"Yeah, I /got/ that, thanks," Natalie returns.
"Sorry." Eli sighs, still moody.
There is silence for a moment longer, and then Natalie says bluntly, "You made a choice, Elias. It was probably the right one, for you. But you cannot keep pretending that things are still the same. Shit has happened. It keeps happening. My defense was /two weeks/ ago. If you want a Christmas letter, fine, I'll keep you notified. You can facebook me. But you live in California, and you are not coming over for dinner."
"Okay. Fine. Christmas letter it is. I'll - uh, look forward to it." Eli draws in a deep breath and takes a short pause. "Um, have a good night."
"Night," Natalie answers, briefly.
Elias hangs up and sighs, thumb running over the screen on his cell for a moment before sliding it into his pocket again.