LANA #2
“Thank you for a wonderful night, Bates. I had a really nice time — the best actually.” I give him another squeeze.
“I don’t want to leave yet, but I also don’t want to miss my flight, and I don’t want to seem clingy and annoying, either.
I know what this was, and I’m super unavailable until the end of the year — I’m literally going where the phone service is shit and the internet isn’t much better, but…
Would you maybe like to have my email address?
” I ask before I chicken out. “You can say no,” I add in a rush, as if I don’t care either way, but my high hopes were obvious from the up-notes in my voice.
Bates stiffens slightly in my arms, and he doesn’t reply immediately or with great excitement as I’d wanted.
“Never mind,” I amend quickly as I step back, shaking my head. “That was stupid.”
Bates’s eyebrows plunge as he looks me over. “It’s not stupid.”
“No?”
My heart lifts, and I dig into my pocket for my notepad.
I tear off the pre-written email address I’d been hoping he’d want…
but I don’t give it to him, exactly. He said it’s not stupid of me, but I’m still not sure he actually wants it.
Instead of thrusting it at him, I simply hold it up and let him make the choice of whether or not he takes it.
He does.
Only he looks at it as if he doesn’t know if he’ll ever use it. He might just be being polite. He glances between me and the scrap of paper.
“I just…” He looks me up and down as if weighing his options, and his expression is very stern and serious.
He’s regretting it already. This thing between us isn’t going to go anywhere.
There probably isn’t even a thing. I’ve made it up in my head. That’s embarrassing, but sadly not the first time I’ve tried to convince myself someone liked me.
Bates closes his mouth and then opens it again to speak, but no words come out. He’s clearly having issues with what he’s trying to say. He’s a sweet guy, so he’s probably trying not to hurt my feelings. It’s definitely bad news.
Okay. Here it comes. It’s not like I’m a stranger to rejection. I know what to do. I school my features and brace myself for impact.
“Lana… I’m not sure I should be in possession of something so precious,” he says slowly, looking me over again.
Dismissed by compliment…? That’s a new one. He sounded sort of sincere, too. I don’t like it. I think it might actually hurt more than it would if he’d said I was regrettable.
I firm my spine, clear my throat so my voice doesn’t break, and then I nod.
“Okay. No pressure. I can take it back.” I reach out to take my email address back, but his fist clamps protectively around the paper. He takes it to his chest and turns his body to shield it from my reaching hand.
Wait. He wants it? He meant what he said?
My smile is hard to contain, but I try. I could be mistaken, and I don’t want to celebrate too soon and then have to mop my guts off the floor when they get torn out.
“Keep it, then,” I say quietly before I stretch up on my tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “I check my messages once a day, and if I ever see one from you in my inbox, know that I’ll be smiling. Bye, Bates.”
Apparently rendered speechless, he simply raises his hand in a wave.
Fizzing with an unfamiliar but exhilarating kind of joy, I turn to get into my cab, but Bates spins me back around and presses me up against the car instead.
He takes my breath away with a kiss that turns my knees to jelly; then he helps me into my seat and buckles me in. “You stay wonderful, Lana.”
My smile runs so deep beneath the surface that I think it might be permanently etched on my soul.
I hope I’m actually awake and not just living inside a dream.
Hand pressed to the window in a wave, I can’t tear my eyes from Bates as I’m driven away. He gets smaller and smaller, but he doesn’t disappear back inside the hotel. He stays right where he is until I’ve gone around a corner and can no longer see.
Never one to waste time that I could use for something productive, I get out my work folder, but it sits unattended in my lap for the entire cab ride.
I’m halfway to Vancouver before I can engage my brain enough to comprehend the words in my notes or the maps I’m studying.
My mind wanders, and every time I shift in my seat, I can feel where Bates has been.
He’s never far from my thoughts, but by the time I land in Whitehorse after the second leg of my journey, I’ve managed to compartmentalize my experience with him, so I can function enough to immerse myself in my work during the last flight.
If I mess up even the slightest thing this summer, Dad will never let me live it down, and I don’t know how much more of his disappointment I can take.
It’s hard enough being his weird kid as it is.
The closer I get to the Gambler’s Creek gold claim, the more nervous I am about seeing Dad and trying to convince him I’m a good investment. It should be simple, if I can just make myself useful enough for him to appreciate my existence.
I fight the urge to daydream about Bates so I can better focus on my work, but it’s hard, and that makes me anxious.
My palms are getting sweating from the thought of letting Dad down when I’ve promised to increase productivity at his mine.
I stare at my paperwork with its endless calculations and pray that my plan will work.
At least Martha will be waiting for me with no expectations other than for me to be myself. That eases my nerves some. I also can’t wait to tell her about Bates. She’s the only sister I can share the details with — all the big, delicious details…
I groan at myself. Must not succumb to distraction. I have work to do.
Once my earbuds go in and the rain sounds come on, the focus gets turned up loud.
Those miners aren’t going to maximize productivity by themselves, and if I don’t show them how to get more gold in the box, Dad’s never going to see me as anything but the annoying family oddball.
I’ve been planning to prove my worth to him for a long time now, and I’m finally ready to make my power move.
If it doesn’t work, I’ll have wasted a lot of time and energy going down a life path I shouldn’t have, and if I have to backtrack now and find a different way to get his approval, then my whole timeline will be thrown out — which will undoubtedly result in the crushing of my spirit and the possibly mortal wounding of my soul, and I don’t know how to recover from that.
Just the thought of failure is making my stomach curdle and my skin itch.
I push the stress aside and find solace in my work. I lose myself in it completely and don’t even come up for air until my final flight touches down in Dawson City. Soon the real work will begin.
I mentally pitch myself some affirmations to help boost morale before I get to Gambler’s Creek.
I am a successful human, and I can get what I want.
I will make a good impression.
I’m going to hit the ground running.
I’ll show my father that I can be a contributing member of our family.
And if he just spends some time with me, then I’ll make it worth his while. If I can show him I can do the things he does but differently, then maybe he won’t be embarrassed to have me as a daughter, and he might actually invite me to be part of the lifestyle he so obviously enjoys.