Page 32 of The Sunday Brothers Novellas

CHAPTER NINE

PORTER

Seven weeks. It had been seven weeks since I’d touched Theo.

Seven weeks since I’d allowed myself to do more than fantasize about a future together.

After a single chance meeting at Professor Burton’s office, I’d mostly avoided going to the English building except for classes—it was just too painful to see Theo when we couldn’t be together, especially when I wasn’t even sure how he felt about me.

Did he regret our time together? Was he secretly glad that he had an excuse not to take things further?

I was not an overthinker by nature—I left that to several of my brothers—but suddenly, I found myself spiraling and second-guessing.

Theo was important to me. Our time together at the cabin had made me rethink the whole direction of my life, just as surely as walking past his classroom on that fateful day sophomore year had.

I wanted to know that Theo felt even a little bit of the same passion for me.

In the meantime, I’d kept busy by focusing on my assignments in my one and only class—where I was killing it —and by doing exactly what Theo had suggested—writing grant proposals to get more money for the Hub.

It turned out there were a lot of places that were willing to support a program like ours, if we had someone with the time and talent to write the proposals.

I couldn’t help feeling grateful for the way things had gone down in Theo’s class last semester because I had an abundance of time…

and thanks to our frantic-mad weekend at the cabin, now I had the talent, too.

There were no guarantees that I’d get the grants I’d applied for, obviously, or that the Hub would choose to keep me on full-time even if I did, but it felt good to know that this was one last thing I could do for the kids.

I was at the library, uploading my final assignment as an undergraduate, when Marsia, the head of the Hannabury Fund and my de facto boss at the Hub, texted to ask me to stop by her office before taking my usual shift at the Hub later that day. She said she had “good news.”

Intriguing.

I was almost positive it couldn’t have been about any of the grants. Charitable foundations like the ones I’d applied to were all about the delayed gratification, and I knew we’d have to wait weeks (or maybe even longer) to see if any of them came through.

So I was shocked when I walked into Marsia’s office to see a bunch of my coworkers assembled with beaming smiles and to have her greet me with, “Surprise, Porter! We’d love to offer you a paid , full-time position as Director of the Hannabury Youth Hub.”

“No way,” I breathed. “Are you kidding? Did one of the grants come through? Was it the New England After School Alliance? Or, no, was it the Caldimont Foundation? They were offering fifty thousand a year, under certain circumstances, but I didn’t think we’d hear until February?—”

“Er. No. Neither.” Marsia’s smile didn’t fade.

“It was actually a local program. The Sutton Family Foundation, which was created by one of Hannabury’s most beloved science professors.

They endowed the Sutton Wing of the science complex, and they’ve been longtime supporters of our work.

Their representative reached out last month to make us this offer?—”

“Marsia! And you didn’t say anything? I’ve been dying for weeks, wondering if I should have accepted those interviews in Boston,” I complained jokingly—I was too thrilled to ever complain about anything for at least a full year. “This is… this is amazing. And you’re sure you want me to…”

“Porter,” she snorted. “Of course we want you! Everyone at the Hannabury Fund believes you’re the best person to run the Hub full-time.

No one is more dedicated. Just look at all the extra effort you’ve put in, writing those grant proposals for us!

The excellent marks in your Nonprofit Management courses, plus the personal endorsements from your advisors in the English department, were the icing on the cake.

We just wanted to wait until you were finished with your semester to offer you the job so you wouldn’t be distracted…

and to give you the opportunity to apply for other jobs in case that was what you truly wanted. ”

“There’s nothing I want more than this,” I whispered. This was partly a lie; a future with Theo wasn’t something I could control, but now that I had this job, it was firmly in the realm of possibility… assuming he wanted it, too.

“Good.” She grinned. “We look forward to seeing what you do with the program, starting in January.”

My dream job, right here in Hannabury.

“Thank you,” I said in a shaky voice.

“Thank you, Porter, for making this a program we’re all very proud of.

And another surprise. Henriette, here, has volunteered to take over your shift today since we figured you were up all night finishing your final assignment.

No one wants our new director to get overtired before he officially takes the job.

” She winked, and my coworker Henriette laughed out loud.

“Do me a favor and swing by HR to fill out some paperwork, then go celebrate your accomplishment! Congratulations! ”

After thanking her again and practically floating to the HR office to complete the necessary paperwork, I headed back across campus to where I’d parked my car. My phone rang with a call from my brother Webb. “Hey,” I said, smiling before even hearing his voice.

“Hey, troublemaker. Drew wanted me to ask when you were coming home. I said I thought you were waiting to do your graduation walk until the spring, so?—”

“I got a job!” I blurted, voice shaking to match the shaking hands and knees I still had from the meeting. “A real job. The job. To run the Hub.”

“What? You’re kidding?” Webb said. “Shit, Porter, that’s fantastic! One of your grant applications came through?”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know yet.

But this was a large endowment through the university fund given by a local family foundation or something.

I’m not sure exactly. My head started spinning after she told me about the job, and it kept spinning when I saw the salary on the HR forms I filled out.

The only stipulation was that the program has to implement some activities to educate and inspire kids in the sciences with specific emphasis on physics.

The wording is broad, though, so I can get creative.

We could make balloon cars or measure the volume and weight of snowballs.

Remember when Gage helped Aiden build that automated dog treat dispenser for the science fair?

Or when Aiden’s Scout group built Popsicle stick trebuchets? That kind of thing.”

“That was a blast,” he said. “Until my son decided to build a bigger one with scrap lumber and use rotten apples as ammo.”

I laughed, feeling light and free. I told him the specifics of the offer and confessed I might not be able to stay in Little Pippin Hollow very long over the holidays.

“I’ll need to move by the end of December since my sublet is up, and I’ll probably want to get some work done so I can jump into the new job with both feet. ”

“Understandable. We can come help you move after the holidays. I’m not sure if we have any spare furniture lying around, but Luke’s mom has an uncanny ability to find deals on stuff. I can ask her to keep her eye out.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” The thought of moving for the second time in six months was depressing. I tried not to think about it too much, but I would need to get creative to find housing in a college town in the middle of the school year.

“But you’re definitely not taking part in the graduation ceremony until next May, so you can be with your friends, right?

You want us to come out to Hannabury later this week and, I dunno, take you out for a beer or something?

Seems kind of anticlimactic to end your final, final semester without celebrating. ”

“Oh, I’ll be celebrating. My friends were already going to take me out tonight, and they don’t even know about the job yet.

But I do want to spend a couple of days looking at places to live, and I’ll come home after that.

Maybe we can celebrate my degree over the holidays,” I said.

“Tell Drew and Marco I’m expecting a feast of my favorites. ”

“Will do. We’re proud of you, Porter.” We talked for a while longer before ending the call. It was nice to hear his familiar voice, and I realized I was looking forward to seeing everyone over the holidays.

Within moments of ending the call, the family text chain blew up with congratulations emojis and graduation GIFs.

As I looked up from my phone, I saw someone exit the front door of the English building.

Theo.

I stared at him, drinking in his long-legged confidence and the way his dark-framed glasses set off his hair. He turned his head when someone behind me called out to a friend. Our eyes met and locked on each other. Words hung unspoken in the crisp winter air between us.

I was no longer a student in his department. But technically, he was still responsible for the final granting of my degree on behalf of the department. I wondered how long that process took.

I’d told him I would approach him the day after finishing the semester, but that didn’t mean he was free. For all I knew, he was inundated with papers to grade and exams to review.

For all I knew, he was dreading our meeting.

My heart tripped over itself in the vain hope he would say something, call out to me with an admission of longing, of sleepless nights and desperate hope—the same things I’d been experiencing without him.

But another shouted laugh came from behind me, breaking the moment and causing Theo to frown before nodding slightly in my direction and then walking away.