Chapter Seventeen Claire #2
I’m new to this running thing, so not more than 5K. If I make it that far. “I really have no idea what’s around. Are there any trails?”
He stares at the floor, evidently deep in thought. “Do you have an ORCA card?”
“A what?”
He smiles, but its brilliance is hidden by the closet door when he dives back inside. He reappears with his backpack and pulls out what appears to be a credit card. “It’s a pass for the light-rail train.”
I frown. How far do I have to go for a walk? “They let dogs on the train?”
“They do. And Maverick is used to it.” He waves the card for me to take. “Ride it south away from the city for one stop—it’s the only stop—then head downhill. At the bottom is a trailhead for a great wooded path leading to a marina with a coffee shop. You’ll love it.”
I take the card with all the skepticism of Larry. “I’m still on reserve. If they call me out, will I be able to make it to the airport within two hours?”
Two hours is the minimum call-out time. Crew Scheduling could very well call to award me a trip for tomorrow.
And that’s if I get called. Based on seniority, there are still two newer flight attendants who’ll be called out ahead of me.
Not to mention there are currently no trips in Open Time.
But I have to prepare for the worst-case scenario.
While on probation, we don’t get second chances.
Nathan plants his hands on his hips, still looking down rather than at me. Like he has things to do and I’m inconveniencing him. “You have my number, right?”
Oh, that’s right. I do. “You put it in my phone so I could send pictures to our crew in San Antonio.” I probably should have texted before coming over.
He nods and leads me back to the front door he’d left wide open. “Then just call me. I’ll come pick you up if needed.”
Maverick and I follow him, Maverick with much more excitement. I was already cautious of going somewhere new by myself, and Nathan’s behavior is not very reassuring. He’s going out of his way to help me, but it seems to be because he wants me out of his way. “I can call an Uber.”
He finally lifts his eyes to meet mine, though his smirk is more entertained than adoring. “An Uber driver might not want a pet in their vehicle. Call me.”
“Okay . . .” I step onto the stoop but hesitate.
He closes the door in my face.
“Well, boy.” I turn away and head down the hill that will take me to the train, still addressing the dog. “Guess his attraction was all in my imagination. Which is a good thing. And he’s a good friend to let me take you. We’ll just walk until we get to the trail, then we can jog.”
I have no trouble with the train. Most passengers dragging suitcases are heading the opposite direction.
As we roll along, I do a search of “trails by me” so I can have a digital map.
It shows pictures of the paved pathway that winds alongside a creek through the trees to a harbor.
If ever there was a place to start jogging, this is it.
The trail is covered in leaves, and it’s a little longer than I’d wanted to go, but it’s so pretty that I don’t even notice.
I set my watch to time the workout and jog/walk at an enjoyable pace.
I’d always thought running would be a monotonous sport, but the scenery constantly changes—as opposed to dancing in the same studio every day.
I smile and wave to passersby. Little dogs freak out whenever they see Maverick, but he just watches them with mild curiosity.
It’s a reminder that the more comfortable I become in my new career, the less I’ll have to freak out about.
Perhaps I’d been comfortable for too long and needed something new to stretch me.
My head counts my steps along with beats to music.
Breathe in two three four, breathe out six seven eight.
Each sip of air is chilly but invigorating and smells fresh, like mud and undergrowth.
The barren trees let plenty of light filter in, while moss, fern, and pines color over the neutral tones with vibrant shades of green.
After about twenty-five minutes, I burst out into some kind of camp with lodges.
I think I might be trespassing, but then I see a bridge to the beach beyond.
Silvery water beckons, and I’m catching my breath to the sound of waves lapping the shore.
A seagull trills and dips toward the surf.
I could get used to running with all this beauty as a reward.
Rows of boats bob in the distance. I cross the bridge and head toward them to find the marina and coffee shop Nathan had mentioned.
Here’s hoping they also serve sandwiches, because I really don’t have much food left in the crash pad other than the granola I offered Journey.
There are also almonds and cookies leftover from flights, which everyone contributes to a bowl on the table, but airplane snacks get old quickly.
My cell vibrates in the pocket along the leg of my yoga pants. I jump as if it’s an alarm. I guess Crew Scheduling cannot be predicted. This spike in my heart rate is not going to help me stop panting before I answer the call.
I pull my phone out, with plans to call Nathan for a ride after this, but the image of my boyfriend on my phone screen stops me. Wyatt is Face-Timing. With joy I slide my thumb across the screen.
“Hey, stranger,” I greet him happily.
He’s got chiseled good looks with dirty-blond curls atop his head and blue eyes so icy they give me chills.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call last night.
We had to get all the paperwork in for a new patent.
I was at the office until midnight to make our deadline. Thankfully, they gave me today off.”
I shake my head at the irony of our timing and another missed connection.
“You should have flown up today and come jogging with me. I found this amazing trail that leads out to a harbor.” I tap the icon to flip my camera around so he can see the scenic view rather than a close-up of my head. “Isn’t it serene?”
“We have harbors here too, you know.”
“I know.” I flip the camera back around to smile at him.
“I heard that in San Francisco, a lot of crew live on boats. You’re not supposed to live on them, but they’re gone so often that it doesn’t matter.
Maybe I’ll do that when I’m transferred to SFO.
Rent a boat in a slip instead of an apartment. ”
I’d given up my apartment with my dance friends in order to pay for the crash pad.
My parents are storing my furniture, and I’m planning to stay with them on visits home.
After my dancing career ended, they offered to let me move back into my old bedroom permanently, but that just feels like an even bigger step backward.
“Why don’t you move in with me?” Wyatt asks nonchalantly.
I try to keep my expression just as casual, as if this is a casual thing. All my blinking and twitching probably gives me away. But what exactly is he proposing? “Do you want to get married?”
“Of course I want to marry you. Eventually. When life calms down, ya know?”
I study his expression. Though it might come across as bored to most people, I can tell by the curve on one side of his mouth that he’s pressing his lips together to keep from smiling too widely and ruining his cool-guy image.
My heart pitter-patters at the invitation, even though it’s not the invitation I was hoping for.
It’s one step closer, I guess. I’m just not sure it’s a step I’m willing to take.
My parents raised me with old-fashioned values, and though they seem to get in the way sometimes, I believe they’re actually the building blocks for the life I’m trying to create.
I don’t want to start a fight, so I just say, “Does life ever calm down?”
“Good point.” He hooks a hand behind his neck and lets the subject drop. “So you’re a jogger now, huh? Are you jogging alone? I thought you were afraid of getting murdered by random strangers.”
“Oh, I am.” I angle the phone down to show him where Maverick sits beside me, the best wingman ever. His tongue hangs out as he watches the birds, and I should probably get him some water. “Nathan let me walk his dog while he demos his house. Win-win.”
I lift the camera to see Wyatt again. His eyes have pinched tight. “This is the Nathan you flew with a couple of weeks ago?”
Wyatt doesn’t even know about yesterday, and I probably shouldn’t mention it.
We so rarely get a chance to connect that I want to enjoy the moments we have together.
“Yeah, he lives across the street and knows my fear.” Time to pivot.
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy jogging, but maybe just getting into nature is healing.
I actually feel good. Kind of like when I hiked the Manitou Incline. ”
“With Nathan?”
I don’t want to give Wyatt reason to be jealous.
He’s already had enough reasons to be untrusting after his ex cheated on him.
“I’ve got two more days on reserve, then I’ll fly to San Francisco to show you how much I’ve missed you.
You have nothing to worry about. I won’t even see Nathan again, unless it has to do with Maverick. ”
Wyatt’s eyebrows dip.
“Maverick is the dog.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “Or if you get put on the same trip again.”
I twist my lips because there’s nothing I can say to that. Unless I tell him that Nathan and I have only worked trips together because we picked up those trips on our off time.
He sighs. “I understand you traveled a lot for ballet, but since we didn’t meet until after that, I’m not used to the long-distance thing. I just want you here with me.”
Wyatt and I met in the hospital after my surgery, when he came to visit his dad, who was my surgeon.
I’d been drugged and asked him if I’d died, saying he looked like an angel.
He joked my pickup line was usually used on women.
I confessed that I was afraid I’d never get picked up again, though I’m sure I was thinking of ballet lifts.
He claimed that was ridiculous and vowed that the next time he came to see his dad, he’d bring me flowers. And he did.
I honestly don’t remember our first meeting, but he told me the story when bringing me a bouquet of roses. I wasn’t receiving bouquets on stage anymore, and just smelling their sweet floral scent made me cry.
Wyatt was the only good thing I had during that time, so I centered my life entirely on him to feel good about something. Now that I’m enjoying life again, it seems to be hard for him to share me with other good things.
“I want that too,” I agree, though even when I’m based in San Francisco, I’ll still be gone a lot. I’m not going to think about that yet. We’ll make this work.
“Good.” His voice dips intimately. “I’m glad I caught you, and I’m counting down the days until I see you again.”
As soon as I blow him a kiss goodbye, a big, fat, cold raindrop plops onto my nose. I glare up at the sheet of gray clouds, as if they’re testing me—and sure enough, they pelt me harder. I wipe water from my eyes and pull up my hood.
“Well?” I look down at Maverick in question.
He waits for me to answer my own question. Will I keep my word about not seeing Nathan again even if it means walking home in the rain?
My options include heading back for the train now, hiding out in the coffee shop to wait out the rain, or calling Nathan. I’m afraid that if I warm up and rest in the coffee shop, I’ll be too relaxed to jog back down the trail. If I’m going to go, we need to go now.
Maybe Maverick has the answer all along. I quote his namesake. “I feel the need . . . the need for speed.”
I’m halfway down the trail with my feet kicking up icy puddles, clothes plastered to my skin, and rain threatening to blind me, before my phone vibrates again. I don’t even suspect it to be Crew Scheduling this time. It’s probably Nathan.
I smear water across my face with a sleeve with all the effectiveness of a worthless windshield wiper, then retrieve my slippery phone while continuing to run.
The phone is too wet to function properly.
Or perhaps my numb fingers are too cold to activate it with their touch.
I can’t answer here. At least I’ll be back at the train station in the next fifteen minutes, so I’ll call Nathan when I get there to keep him from worrying.
I laugh at the insanity of my situation as well as how I must look right now. But for some reason it feels good. Crazy how it took doing something I thought might kill me to feel alive again.