by Lucy Snow
“You’re a little far away for that.”
“I prefer this to a bench,” I said, and kept eating, but I knew he was still looking at me with those dark eyes of his, the ones that seemed to alternate between looking right through me and deep into my very being.
Alex chuckled at that, and I heard a creaking noise. I heard speaking in hushed tones to Clara back in the kitchen, and the next thing I knew it Alex stood before me, his plate once again filled with more food. I was jealous, as I was working through my own plate.
Alex set his down and sat across from me, that impish twinkle still in his eyes. “Bet you’re used to that, eh?”
I took another bite and lowered my spoon to the table. Clara came bustling in with two large mugs and a pot on a tray, and made a big show of pouring each of us a mug full of tea that smelled strongly of lemon.
After she left, I picked up my mug and, after testing how hot it was, took a long sip, washing down all the pork and potatoes I’d been gorging myself on.
I was in heaven; well, heaven except for Alex sitting in front of me. He was a…different kind of heaven. He took a swig of his own mug, licking his lips and getting back to eating.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
He shrugged. “I said, ‘bet you’re used to that.’”
I batted my eyes at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He nodded and winked. “Sure, Princess. I meant, you probably have people coming over to sit at your table all the time.”
I laughed. “What is this, high school? Are we really having this conversation?”
He shrugged again. “I’m just callin’ it like I see it. The rest of the world is more like high school than you think, Princess.” The look he gave me suggested he had more than a little evidence of that.
I picked up my spoon and waved it at him, getting right in his face. “OK, I thought you’d get the hint by now, but clearly you haven’t.” I narrowed my gaze. “Do not call me Princess anymore. Are we clear?” He turned his head down and to the left. “I don’t know where you got that idea about me, but it’s wrong. Got it?”
He stayed quiet for a moment, then cracked that smile again. “I saw the patch on your jacket, Naomi. I know where you go to school. That’s a rich kid’s school.” He sat back in his chair, interlocking his fingers behind his head as he stared upwards. “I’ve seen the people at that school. It’s a country club for rich Meridian kids.”
I pulled my hand back, and took a bite before saying anything else; I was so mad I was almost shaking. “Listen,” I fumed. “You don’t know anything about me, alright? We’re strangers. You don’t know anything about my life, and I don’t know anything about yours. Let’s keep it that way.”
Alex pulled back, holding up his hands, palms facing me. “I come in peace, jeez, alright?” That smile again. “Take a cue from outside and chill for a bit. We’re gonna be here a little while together, and unless you want to hang out with Marty and Clara till this storm moves on, we might as well get a little more civil.”
“I have no problem with civil, Alex,” I replied. “Whenever you’re ready for that you let me know. Until then, Marty and Clara are at least more…respectful, than you are.”
Alex gave me a pained look. “I thought I was being pretty respectful when I saved your pretty little ass from that bus. Or when I stopped you from going back inside to get who knows what.”
Again, I saw red, waves of sadness and anger washing over me for not keeping my sister’s diary on me instead of my bag. Now it was gone forever, even though it was still right there. I could feel it calling to me even from this distance away.
Waiting for me to respond, Alex smiled confidently and went back to eating. I sat and kept fuming, unable to put together the right words that I wanted to find to put him in his place once and for all.
“Relax, Naooooomi,” Alex said, drawing my name out super obviously as if to make sure that I noticed he wasn’t calling me princess anymore. “Eat your food, or hand over your plate. I can’t get enough of this stuff.”
I looked down at my food and my mouth started watering all over again; I’d forgotten about it since Alex had gotten me all riled up over nothing. Why did I let this guy have that effect on me? Get a grip. I picked at it, ravenous, but not wanting Alex to know that he was right about at least that.
Eventually, though, I couldn’t help myself, and eating was way better than talking to Alex, so I focused on my plate and we found some blessed silence for a little while.
“What were you doing out there?” I couldn’t resist - I had to know. “Not the best time to be out on the road, you know.”
Alex set his fork down. “I could say the same about you,” he quickly added, before pausing. “I was going to see someone.”
“Sounds serious.”
Alex waved his hand and then picked up his fork and grinned at his plate. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
We ate in silence for a minute.
“So, then, Naaaaomi,” he started again. “I gotta say I’m a little curious. What were you willing to go back all that way for?”
I left my fork stabbed into a mound of mashed potatoes on my plate and gave him my best withering look, despite how gorgeous he was. It really was a shame that such a hot guy was so terrible. “Don’t bring that up again.”
Alex took another bite of food. I’d managed to finish my plate and I was debating going back for more. I still felt like I could eat a supermarket’s worth of food. It was as if the storm outside had amplified my hunger over and over like the driving snow.
“You still won’t tell me what was in there.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “What was so important that you’d risk your life to save it?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I said, my appetite suddenly gone. I stood up and gathered my plate, knife, and fork, taking a last sip of my tea before hauling all of it back to the kitchen. I handed it all back to Clara, thanking her profusely for the amazing meal.
And then I went back to my room.
This storm couldn’t end fast enough.
I needed to get out here.
I needed to get away from him.
CHAPTER 08 - ALEX
“We’re moving out. End of the week.” He said it over breakfast one morning.
“OK, where to next?”
He paused. “Nowhere, for you. We’re tapped out on resources for the time being. You’re staying here.”
“In Shanghai? There’s nothing for me here.”
He shrugged. “You don’t have to stay here, of course, but we’re not paying your way anymore. You’re much better at this than I thought you’d be, Eames, but times are tough and we just can’t keep anymore staff on. Find a job. We’ll be in touch if we need your help anymore.”
And that’s how my first stint as a relief volunteer ended.
I spent a couple days wandering around the streets of Shanghai, getting by with the few phrases I’d learned over the short time I’d spent here. I felt out of place, and unlike in other places, in Shanghai the daily hustle didn’t stop for more than a few cursory moments when I arrived in a new building or turned onto a street.
They’d seen people like me before and I didn’t come bearing gifts. I wasn’t anything special here.
I was running out of money when I finally found my way to the docks and managed to get a job hauling crates back and forth, just like I had a years earlier in the Caribbean. It felt good to use my hands and back again, but this time it was for commerce, not aid.
At the end of each day when I collapsed into my meager bed to grab whatever sleep I could before waking up early the next morning, I felt a curious sense of peace. I was so tired I didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to search for myself.
It was wonderful.
After a few weeks my Chinese improved from the chatter back and forth with the other workers, and after a few more the business crystalized for me and I understood the context
of moving crates back and forth all day, what each side of the giant warehouses meant, and I started to see the inefficiencies in how the system worked.
Six months after that I was running my own warehouse, getting off the ground, but still spending as much time as I could working with my hands and my back.
And then one day I was walking through the electronics district of Shanghai after a short lunch and I stopped in front of a store selling notebook computers. I’d sold the one I’d started my trip with because I didn’t see the need for it when I could help so many people with the money I made getting rid of it.
And that’s when everything changed.
Well, THAT went well.
She walked away from the dining room without looking at me, wearing that dress from the 70s, just a little too tight on her, accentuating all those curves I’d gotten a glimpse of for the first time a couple hours ago. It was tough for me to think about anything else but how sexy she was.
I hadn’t been able to get my mind off her since we’d arrived here, and that thing in the bathroom had just been an added bonus. The horny dude inside me had hoped she’d have stuck around a bit and helped me deal with how turned on she made me, but no cigar.
We weren’t that close yet. If anything we were getting further and further apart.
But back in that bathroom, the way she’d looked me up and down…yeah. I knew she wanted me, even if she didn’t want to admit it. I knew I wanted her, even though I would never have admitted it to anyone under pain of death.
Something about the two of us — the sparks were there, but each time we were around each other, the sparks turned into just the wrong kind of fire. I couldn’t figure out why that was, and it haunted me.
I shook my head and went back to my food, chastising myself for getting worked up over some girl I’d just met a few hours ago. I looked around the cozy inn, feeling a warmth I’d never thought I’d feel again when we were trekking up here in the snow.
The large window put the fury of the storm on display, and as I watched through it, I saw a tree on the other side of the street, a small fir, crack and fall over — luckily, away from the street.
I finished up my food and looked around the empty dining room, trying to imagine what it must have been like full of happy patrons eating Clara’s delicious food.
They’d be back, once this storm passed and the snowplows came through and the world rediscovered this place, whatever it was called. I’d make sure of it - I’d tell everyone I know, not only about the food, which was some of the best I’d ever eaten, but also about the lovely people who owned the place.
The storm.
It would pass soon enough, even if looking out the window tried its hardest to convince me that it was here to stay forever. And then, when it did, what next? What would I do?
I mean, after I made it back to Meridian and saw my father. He would take some convincing, but I already knew that I would put up a good fight on my side — as much as he wanted it to be otherwise, his business was not my life, and there was simply no way I would be able to make it such.
Not when I had my own life to life, my own business to run. I wouldn’t be able to do as he asked - I wouldn’t be able to take over the family business, not if it meant staying in Meridian and becoming a fixture of society. And not if it meant marrying someone just to solidify the business’ future.
That just wasn’t going to work for me.
The last 10 years had proved to me in stark relief that I was not the settling down type. I was meant for the road, meant to travel the world, wandering around until I found somewhere that I could help, somewhere that I could make a difference. It had started in disaster relief, then branched out into business, with adventures before, after, and in between, but try as I might, I couldn’t wrap my head around staying in one place for too long — it just didn’t seem natural.
Not when there was so much out there to see, so much to experience. Sure, Meridian was one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, but even when the world’s cultures and riches came to your city to put themselves on display, there wasn’t a perfect translation — something was lost.
I couldn’t live with that loss.
So I needed to go to the source.
I knew it wasn’t the life for everyone - I’d met people along the way, throughout the years, who started out as wild-eyed and ready to see the world as I was, but after a few stops, after seeing some of the bad things that went on regularly all over the world, the fire in their eyes dimmed a bit, and they packed their shit up and headed back home, satisfied that they had seen all they needed to, that a regular life was what was in store for them.
I’d seen lots of people reach that conclusion over the years, but I never had. The light hadn’t dimmed in me - I was always ready for what was around the next turn.
That wasn’t to say I didn’t enjoy my stops in each place - I just knew how to frame things in my mind so I could move lightly between them without getting bogged down.
It helped that I’d managed to separate myself from the day to day dealings of my business — now all I had to do was check in every week or so and the machine I’d built hummed along as it should. It wasn’t quite the back-breaking manual labor I enjoyed so much, but at the same time, it did give me the time, energy, and means to keep my adventuring lifestyle going.
Of course, while I’d managed to find fleeting happiness in various places around the world, something was missing from all of it, and it was something that I couldn’t quite place my finger on — it had eluded me all these years.
Just thinking about all of it, I started to understand why my father hadn’t been able to see things my way. He’d grown up in a different time, with less personal freedom, and he’d had to work right away just to keep himself and his family eating and under shelter.
Things were different now — it was possible for someone to start with nothing, and with a healthy dose of luck, find themselves in the right place to build something special. I could see how that would make some people uncomfortable — it had certainly felt weird the first time I realized that I’d built something that didn’t need me anymore.
What was next for me? I mean, after this storm petered itself out and I was able to get back to Meridian, have that conversation with my father, and free myself once and for all from the chains of my family?
I used to have a list of places to go, places I hadn’t been before. I’d looked at it so many times while holed up in that cabin that I’d memorized it: Dubai, New Zealand, Madagascar, Chile, and so on. I knew that I’d get to each of those places in turn, just as soon as the current place had clicked for me and I knew that I’d found whatever I was looking for there.
Thinking about the list now, though, something felt different. The pull to get away from here and go to one of those places didn’t tug at me as strongly as it had the day before.
I sat back in my chair in the dining room, pushing my empty plate toward the center of the table even though there was no one else around. Far off in the bowels of the inn I could hear Marty and Clara yelling good-naturedly at each other.
The ceiling creaked every so often, localized to one spot, and I knew Naomi was up there.
Awake.
Hating me.
I shook my head, trying in vain to clear her from my thoughts.
I tried to focus on the list again — just a couple more days and I’d be free, and then I could randomly pick a place and see what I found there.
