Getaway Gone Wrong

by Lia London

  Guy drew a deep breath. “You’ll get on a ferry and head back to the world you came from.”

  “And say good-bye to you,” she said dully.

  He lifted her chin with his finger. “You will have to decide if it’s really good-bye.”

  “Am I being desperate, Dad?” Guy sat in his father’s desk, chin in hands, feet reaching towards the space heater. He’d pulled the giant doors closed to cut out the wind and block the view of Parker driving away.

  “It’s hard to tell.” Clay’s voice came out muffled from beneath the engine of the plane. He had removed the panels behind the propeller and was tinkering with valves. “I didn’t exactly get to know her well on the flight besides she’s cute and funny. I mean, I’ll give her props for not cussing me out or barfing on me.”

  “Have your barf bag ready!” chimed Tilly.

  “Shut up, Tilly!” barked Guy and Clay together.

  Booster nosed the corner of the bird cage and gave her scolding glare.

  Spinning the blades manually, Clay examined the mechanisms as he talked. “Guy, it comes down to whether or not you’re going to get stalled and crash.”

  “He’s only crashed twice!” offered Tilly.

  “Shut up, Tilly!” grunted Clay.

  “More than twice, Tilly,” muttered Guy, sinking his cheeks to the cold surface of the desk.

  “And why do you crash?” Clay’s tone reflected the weariness this subject gave him.

  “Because I don’t like leaving the island.”

  “Wrong.” Clay pointed at Guy with a wrench. “It’s not the island that’s holding you back. It’s the truth. The right motivation would move you.”

  “You know it’s not that easy.”

  “The right woman would help you.”

  Guy moaned. “I am desperate.” He couldn’t understand what power Parker had over him, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his desire to be with her, to wrap himself around her and find ways to make her happy. She had come to the island so wounded, and he could feel her blossoming … like a daisy unfolding one petal at a time. Why did there have to be this whole thing called ‘normal life’ to address?

  “She seemed nice,” conceded Clay. He batted at the blades again. “But until you know how she’ll take the truth, I wouldn’t go giving away your love, Guy. You’re ripping yourself up on this, and you just met her.”

  “I’ll find a way to tell her.” Guy sighed. “I just need to find the right setting.”

  “Setting shouldn’t matter.”

  “It shouldn’t, but it does. She’s a film director, after all. She pays attention to things like that.” Guy thought about how the majestic view from the tower and the moonlit swath of light had both provided such electric moments. He had to give Parker a moment like those again before he burdened her with his weakness. “Did I tell you she loved my cinematography work?”

  “Nice. Maybe if this doesn’t work out romantically, she can get you some connections with a producer who’ll send you off into the middle of nowhere to make more movies.”

  Guy smiled sadly to himself. “Yeah. Some place where I won’t fall head-over-heels for …” He shook his head. Falling for anyone but Daisy Parker simply wasn’t going to happen anytime this decade. There had to be a way to convince her to stay in his life.

  “You got her number?” asked Clay.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you already coordinate which ferry you’re taking to Friday Harbor?”

  “No.”

  “Well, Mr. Desperate. I think you should give her a call. Maybe drop some truth on her while you’re figuring out ferry schedules.”

  Parker’s mouth went dry when she read the caller ID. What could he possibly want? After she’d poured out a sloppy confession to him, and he’d slammed the door on any option of him pursuing the relationship beyond the shores of Orcas, she really didn’t know what to say.

  Her voice cracked as she answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey, um. We forgot to iron out details about going to Friday Harbor.”

  “Oh. Right. Just whenever you get up. No rush.” She vaguely remembered he was an early riser and was about to modify her answer.

  “Well, there’s the ferry schedule to factor in.”

  “I forgot about that. How often do they go? Every half hour?”

  He chuckled. “No. We don’t get that much traffic out here. There are only a few each day. There’s a 7:20, a 10:35, a 12:25—”

  “Whoah, whoah, whoah.” She rubbed her eyes. “They’re really that far apart? Yikes. So, maybe that ten-thirty slot? How soon do we have to be at the dock?”

  “Ten o’clock should be fine. I can get you at 9:45.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She sighed and gazed out the bedroom window of her cabin, unable to disconnect. Her eyes drank in the serenity of the scene. “I bet this place is amazing in summer.”

  “Orcas? It really is. So much wildlife and bright colors.”

  She shifted to rest her elbows on the window sill. “What’s it like to grow up in one place your whole life?”

  “I wouldn’t know what to compare it to. I’ve always been happy.”

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to get out and see the world?”

  “Sure. I went with Dad and Uncle Bob on some cross-country adventures. We usually packed up the trailer and hit all the campsites along the way. I’ve been to most of the famous must-see things in America. Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Mt. Rushmore.”

  “But probably not New York City or Washington, D.C.”

  “Are those must-sees?”

  Parker smirked. “They are … experiences. The commotion, the air, the buildings, the monuments. It’s all very exciting.” She frowned. “But not for everyone, I suppose.”

  “How about you. You’re from L.A., but have you always been a big city girl?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  Parker tilted her head and allowed herself to think deeply before answering. “I feel restless in the city, as if its energy is driving me forward. But here …” She sighed. “I don’t know. The air slows me down.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “It’s different,” she said carefully. “I can’t pass a judgement on it yet. I’m sure my ulcer likes it better here.”

  “I suspected you might have one of those.”

  “Does it show?”

  “A little. More lines between your eyes than beside them.”

  The sadness in his voice caught her attention, and she walked into the bathroom to check her reflection.

  “So, have you traveled outside the country much? Visited other continents?”

  She smoothed the crease between her brows with her thumb. “Not unless Acapulco counts. I did a few shoots there. I’d love to see some of the great ancient cities of the world. Athens, Rome, Istanbul. Places like that.”

  “Cool. What about remotest Africa or the Australian Outback?”

  “I guess those could be fun, too. I’d need a reason.”

  “What about your film project? Have you thought more about the themes you’d want to feature? What causes you’d want to use your talents to promote? It’s your show, so you should get to decide, you know.”

  “I guess I should, huh? It’d help me get the right corporate sponsorship, etc.”

  “Must it be corporate sponsorship? Can it be educational grants or private foundations? I mean, I don’t know. I’m just asking. Exploring options.”

  A grin tugged Parker’s cheeks upward. He wasn’t blasting holes in her dreams after all. He was trying to help her figure them out. “What would you do?”

  Guy chuckled. “I would skip some more rocks tonight and keep guessing about my second degree.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about—” She gasped at a flash of movement in the sky.

  “What?”

  “Sh!”

  “What?”

  “There’s an eagle circling the meadow behind the cabin!” she whispered.<
br />
  “Oh, awesome!” His voice brightened. “There’s a nest in that area, to the left of the clearing behind the lodge. Where are you?”

  “In my cabin.”

  “Can you see it from there? On the tree that looks like a giant cracked it in half. See the huge jumble of branches in the middle there?”

  “That’s a nest?” Parker squinted and pouted. “It’s huge.”

  “Yeah, Booster could rest in it easy, if he could fly.”

  “Eagles don’t migrate?”

  “Some do, but in this region, we get quite a few who stay all year.” He chuckled. “Imagine! Something that powerful staying on a little island.”

  Parker crossed her eyes. “Now you’re pushing it. I can’t film all my causes from here.”

  “You need a home base.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I have nothing to anchor me here.” As soon as she said it, she knew it was an emotional slap, a careless, hurtful wording of her own insecurity. She’d made it sound like Orcas held no value, and it was his home, after all.

  “No, no. You’ve got a life. Who am I, trying to change the course of it? It’s not my business. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  He ended the call before she could apologize.

  Disaster #11 ~ The Matinee Crowd

  Guy focused on his breathing during the pre-dawn run and again during his shower and breakfast. Curled on the floor with Booster, he stroked the dog’s fur and tried to envision the trip to Friday Harbor and all the things that could go wrong. Then he tried to dismiss them with logical assurances, but the stakes felt higher today than ever before. Parker would be gone soon—forever gone, if he couldn’t convince her to come back again. He could not afford to let his fears cripple him. The truth had to come out.

  But how?

  As Parker cleared her bowl to the sink, she half wondered if she should cancel the trip to Friday Harbor. Life was acting like some romantic movie where everything happened faster than reality. If she had been called to direct the script of the last week, she would have demanded several rewrites before accepting the task. The events were too unbelievable.

  While brushing her teeth, she heard the gravel crunching outside. The familiar whump of Guy’s van door sounded, and she hurried to spit out the minty foam. He knocked, and she called, “Come in!” from the bathroom, gargling one last swish of mouthwash.

  “Good morning,” he chimed back. “Are you drowning in there?”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Just trying to practice good dental hygiene.”

  “I approve.”

  Parker emerged nervously from the bathroom to see him back in his blue jacket, looking very much as he had the first time she’d seen him. Booster sat tall beside him, tongue hanging out and tail swishing against the area rug. She gave them both an awkward grimace. “Hi guys.”

  “How’s your arm?” asked Guy. “And the hip?”

  She picked at the fresh bandage on her arm, more hurt by his aloof manner than the scrapes. “Scabbing up nicely, if there is such a thing. No sign of infection. Itches like crazy, though.” Her silky blouse, bought for a Caribbean adventure, was flattering but inadequate for the weather.

  Guy’s finger brushed the air above her elbow, warming her without even making contact. She held her breath, searching his face for his true feelings. His eyes grew sad. “I really am sorry about the crash. I hope it didn’t totally ruin your whole getaway.”

  “No need to apologize. Everything that has gone wrong has been my own dumb fault.” Her chest tightened. She had sabotaged her own week with a bad attitude and reckless behavior.

  “Are you still up to going to Friday Harbor?” he asked without his usual cheer.

  “Are you?”

  He hesitated, as if holding back a deeper thought, but then offered, “I’m hoping you enjoy it.”

  “I’m sure I will, but are you up to it?” After all, she could go by herself, but she hoped for the right moment to apologize.

  Guy nodded. “Booster’s with me.” He gave her a mournful half smile. “And you.”

  Parker lost the battle to contain her tears, and a few spilled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for what I said yesterday, Guy.”

  “Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Please don’t cry, and please don’t apologize.” Tapping his wrist with his finger, he added, “And besides, we don’t have time for a good cry if we’re going to catch the ferry.”

  His cavalier tone made her laugh, and she reached for the blue jacket draped over the kitchen chair. She closed her hands around it, holding it tight to her chest. “Guy, how can I thank you enough for letting me borrow this coat all week?”

  “I wish you’d keep it.” He took it from her and helped her into it. “To remember me by.”

  Parker spun in place, close to him, but not quite touching. “I’ll never forget you.” Her eyes darted from his eyes to his lips and back again. He was clearly not in a flirty mood today. Snapping back to business, she patted the pockets. “What do I need to bring besides my wallet?”

  “Maybe your phone for taking pictures?”

  “Got it.” Maybe they only had one day left together, but she wanted to make the most of it. As friends. They could talk about film making.

  In the van, Booster nuzzled up under her arm again, establishing himself as her arm rest. Parker chuckled. “He sure is a good dog. How did you train him so well?”

  “It helps that he likes you,” said Guy, starting the van and backing out. “But he is a certified companion dog, trained to keep me calm.”

  “Well, he’s lovely.” Parker ruffled the mane of thick fur around Booster’s neck. “I wish I had a dog like him in L.A. For protection and company.”

  As they reached the top of the hill, Parker touched Guy’s arm and pointed. He gently pressed the brakes, and they spent a few wordless minutes watching several cows grazing beside a family of deer. A blur of motion in her peripheral vision brought her attention to two large, wild rabbits working their way along the edge of the lane. Parker held her breath, afraid to break the spell. When a large black bird flew overhead, the rabbits darted for cover under a thick patch of grass.

  Slowly, Guy eased the van forward toward the evergreen canopy.

  Ignoring the chill, Parker rolled her window down and breathed in as deeply as she could. “Does it ever get old?” she whispered. “Seeing the wild animals everywhere? Booster didn’t even react.”

  “I paid him not to ruin the ride,” joked Guy. “But no. It never gets old for me.”

  “That’s good to hear because I love the magical feeling.” She snorted and passed her hand down her face. “Listen to me. For the love of peanut butter, I sound—”

  “You sound like a woman who has found her happy place,” said Guy softly.

  Leaning back in the seat and taking another deep breath of woodsy, wet air, Parker nodded.

  Parker noticed Guy’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel as they pulled into the line-up to board the ferry. Around them, three lanes of cars awaited clearance. Was he stressed out about this trip, feeling obligated to give her the tour because he’d promised the day before? Guilt gnawed at her gut, but she didn’t know what to say. In desperation, she opted for small talk.

  “Is it usually this crowded?”

  “In the summer, there’s easily twice as many cars. This is the commuter group.” He cut the engine, but kept his hands on the wheel.

  “Should we wait for the next ferry?”

  He shook his head. “No, no. We’ll want the time. It’s all good.”

  Parker scratched Booster’s ears and contemplated the sacrifice Guy was making to help her enjoy her trip. He was getting nothing in return. How unlike the Hollywood rat race this whole week had been. How refreshing. How strange. How impossible to believe.

  Guy’s hand slipped down to Booster’s back grazing hers on the way. Though he kept his eyes forward, Parker felt a pull to connect with him. But she couldn’t hold
his hand. It would send the wrong signal.

  With a sigh, she withdrew her hand, tucking it under her thigh. She closed her eyes and listened to the silence between them, louder than noises outside.

  Eventually, the roar of several engines starting up at once broke her focus. Guy turned the key and released the emergency brake, and soon they crept down the steep lane, across the main drag of the tiny town of Orcas, and onto the ferry’s lower deck.

  They ended up in the back of the center lane on the bottom deck. The silence between them scared Parker because then she could hear the racing thoughts in her head, and too many of them were about Guy, about flipping her world upside down and into a pit of insecurities. She had to regain control, and retreated to what she knew: sass.

  “They should show drive-in movies on the ferry.”

  Guy smirked. “We wouldn’t have a very good view.”

  She gave him a flirtatious shrug. “Who goes to a drive-in to see the movie?”

  He gave a gentle frown. “Behave yourself, Miss Daisy. There are workers all over here.” As if to prove his point, two men in caution vests marched past her door, calling out directions to each other. “Besides.” He grew solemn. “I don’t really want to torture myself if you’re leaving tomorrow for good, I …” His eyes flitted to hers briefly. “I hate good-byes.”

  Parker sat back, her head tilted to the side so she could search his eyes. Desire, longing, regret, and loss all played across his face. The title of his cello composition came back to her: Unrequited. Her throat tightened. “I understand.”

  But it wasn’t unrequited love.

  It was just impossible.

  “The ferry ride is super short, and we’ll be walking a bunch once we reach Friday Harbor, so are you okay if we just stay in the van for now?” asked Guy.

  “Of course.” Parker unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned back. “Mind if I put my feet up?”

  “Sure. There isn’t much of a dashboard, but make yourself comfortable.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as she stretched her legs at an angle towards the center of the dash. The jeans she wore fitted her more closely than any others he’d seen her in yet, and he blinked back the memory of her bare skin. “How’s the hip feeling?”