by D G Barnes
Dana blinked. Ellie and Monica also glanced between them questioningly. What the hell? “Of course, no problem,” Dana replied, not knowing what else she could say and dished up egg for herself. Mac never took her eyes from her plate as she ate. Confused, Dana wondered why she acted this way. She tried to engage Mac in small talk, but she received only single-word answers. Frustrated, Dana gave up and turned her attention to her breakfast. The return drive to Emerald Bay was a little less uncomfortable. Though Mac never took her eyes from the road, she talked in longer sentences. Mostly, it was colorful observations about the slow drivers in front of them, though the needle on their speedometer seldom dipped below 120 kilometers per hour.
When Dana couldn’t stand it any longer, she turned in her seat and looked at the woman who had come to mean so much to her. “Mac, what’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”
Mac continued to stare straight ahead saying nothing. Dana was beginning to think she may never speak to her again, but to her relief, Mac took her hand and kissed it.
“No,” she said, barely loud enough for Dana to hear. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Then what is? I know something is bothering you.” She watched Mac’s face. Whatever it was, she kept it from showing. Mac glanced at her. Her mouth curving upward slightly. Not quite the smile that sent tingles up her spine, but it was close enough.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so bitchy,” she said, looking back to the road.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Mac’s brows furrowed. “It’s nothing,” she said, letting go of Dana’s hand and shifting down as they exited the highway.
“Mac, I just—”
“Dana, please. I don’t want to argue, okay.”
Dana pursed her lips. “Okay,” she said in surrender. Crossing her arms, she turned and looked out her window. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the short drive from the off-ramp to Dana’s beach house. Once they arrived, Mac took Dana’s suitcase from the Jeep, carried it to the back door, and set it down.
When she stopped to find her keys, Mac cupped her cheek. She looked into those emerald green eyes and saw…sadness? Mac caught her lips and kissed her. It was slow and soft, and for a moment she forgot about the morning. Mac stepped back and looked at her, an expression that Dana couldn’t quite read crossed her face.
“Have a safe trip tomorrow, okay?”
Dana raised an eyebrow. Mac made it sound as if she was never coming back. She stepped toward her, but Mac retreated. “Will I see you this afternoon?”
Mac shook her head. “I have paperwork to catch up on, and I am working the bar tonight. I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I will probably go straight to bed as soon as I’m done.”
“Okay, I understand. Can I call you later then?”
Mac shrugged as she walked down the steps. “If you want.”
Dana watched her disappear around the corner without another word. Later in the day, she called several times and sent texts; all went unanswered. She sent a text to Ellie that evening to make sure Mac was okay only to discover that after they had dropped Monica off at her house, they had gone straight to Mac’s parents’ home and were staying there for the night. Mac had lied to her.
She sighed and collected her belongings as the flight attendant opened the main cabin door. Once in the terminal, she claimed her suitcase, picked up her rental car, then drove to her hotel. She plopped down on the bed and checked her phone for missed calls or texts. Nothing. She typed a text to Mac, letting her know she had arrived. She hesitated as her thumb hovered over the send button. Should she bother? If Mac was ignoring her, then what was the point? Staring at the screen for a moment longer, she took a breath and sent the text.
Arrived in one piece. Long day. Miss you.
A quick calculation told her it was after nine back home. After a few moments, she tried to convince herself Mac was probably working the bar and couldn’t respond right away. Her stomach growled, and she decided a shower and food were the priority now.
An hour later, she grabbed her phone as she headed for the door of her room. Noticing she had a missed text, a wave of excitement washed over her as she thumbed the phone. The short message from Mac merely read, Glad you’re safe. That was it. Her shoulders fell, and she sat on the bed. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at the screen. Why was Mac acting like this? The uneasiness she felt earlier came rushing back. Maybe Mac didn’t have feelings for her. Not like she had for her. No, she didn’t want to believe that. Mac needed time to adjust to the idea of her moving to Vancouver for the academic year. That’s all this was. She wiped her eyes and satisfied there was nothing to worry about, she set out in search of food. They could talk when she got back in a couple of days, and all would be well.
***
The morning was gloomy. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, and the threat of rain was real. Dana was thankful for the GPS on her phone as she weaved her way through the streets of Simon Fraser University Campus in search of her destination. The drive to the campus had felt like something from a spy novel. Once she left the highway, she found herself surrounded by forest as her car climbed the gentle slope of Burnaby Mountain. At the top sat the 1.7 square kilometer expanse of the SFU Campus with its many buildings made of concrete and glass. Yup, this could be the top-secret military facility where they studied aliens or something. She glanced around and chuckled: no soldiers with machine guns or Cylons disguised as striking blondes in red dresses; she was safe.
After another minute or two, she steered her car into the parking lot and quickly found a spot. The main office of the English Department was in the Academic Quadrangle, an impressive building designed and built in the 60s. It was a large hollow square that hovered a story off the ground, supported by numerous concrete columns.
A middle-aged woman looked up from her computer screen as Dana entered the reception area. The room was spacious with warm colors on the walls. A stark contrast to the exterior of the building. A few comfortable-looking chairs lined two walls, and magazines lay neatly organized on a low table in the center of the space.
“Hello. May I help you?” The woman’s expression was warm and friendly, and she had a slight French accent that Dana found charming.
“Hi. I’m Dana Lawson. I have an appointment.”
“Yes, of course. Just one moment. I will let Dr. Jackson know you are here.” The woman picked up her phone and punched a button. She spoke quietly then hung up. Before the woman had a chance to say anything, a door adjacent to her desk opened. Dr. Jackson, Dana presumed, stepped briskly toward her, his hand extended and a broad smile on his face.
“Ms. Lawson. A pleasure to finally meet you. I must admit though, I am a bit jealous of you.”
Dana blinked, not sure how to respond to that.
“Sometimes I think my wife spends more time curled up in bed with you than she does with me.”
Dana raised an eyebrow, looking up to meet his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
He laughed. “With your books, Ms. Lawson. She’s a big fan.”
“Oh.” She felt the blush rising on her neck. “My apologies for interfering in your love life, Dr. Jackson, but, please, thank your wife for her support. And, please, call me Dana.”
“I will certainly pass that along,” he replied and laughed again. He released her hand and straightened his jacket. “And my name is Harvey.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Harvey.” She followed his lead when he motioned her toward his office.
Dana sat when Harvey offered her a chair in front of his desk. She glanced out the large window as he sat in his chair. A green lawn with manicured hedgerows, bushes, and small trees filled the interior space of the quadrangle. A cement walkway bisected a long rectangular pool as it crossed from one side of the green space to the other.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Harvey said, bringing her attention back to him.
“Very. It and this building have appeared in several TV shows and movies if I’m not mi
staken.”
“Yes, indeed.” He handed her a file from his desk. “This package outlines what we are offering you as the Writer in Residence and what we expect in return. As you will see, we have allowed plenty of time for you to concentrate on your own writing during your stay with us.”
Dana nodded as she skimmed through the package. For the next hour or so, they discussed various aspects of the appointment. With her questions answered, Harvey escorted her to various offices and introduced her to the remainder of the Writer in Residence Committee. At the end of a quick tour of the campus, they stood at the entrance to the Quadrangle.
Harvey glanced at his watch. “I’m meeting Cathy Jennings for lunch in a bit. Would you like to join us?”
Dana was about to decline when a thought occurred to her. “Cathy Jennings? As in the C.J. Jennings?” Excitement filled her voice.
“The one and the same.” He stepped aside to allow a passing staff member more room. “I will take your enthusiastic question as a yes.”
She hadn’t expected to meet the woman on this trip, so the offer came as a welcome surprise. “You’re correct. I’d love to join you for lunch.”
“In that case, let’s go. We can take my car.”
A short time later as Harvey expertly maneuvered his car through lunch hour traffic, a question came to Dana. “If you don’t mind me asking? Why didn’t you offer the residency to Ms. Jennings?”
He glanced over. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we did offer it to her first. She declined due to previous commitments. You were our second choice.”
Ouch! Now if that wasn’t a bruise to the old ego. “Oh, I see.” What was it the non-winners of an Oscar would say? It was an honor to just to be nominated. It was sort of true in this case; she was here after all, even if it was a win by default.
“Cathy will be on campus one day a week for the first semester though. So, you will be working together somewhat.”
That detail pleased her. She would be working with freaking C.J. Jennings!
They entered a quaint corner café tucked away on a quiet side street off the main thoroughfare. The location appeared to be popular with the locals but not too busy as there were a few empty seats available.
A woman sitting in a booth looked up at them as they approached. Dana instantly recognized her, and she couldn’t contain the grin that spread across her face. She felt like a starstruck teenage girl at a boyband concert. Oh, wow! C.J. Jennings in the flesh!
Cathy Jennings slid from the booth and embraced Harvey in greeting. She was older than Dana by about twenty years, according to her biography. But Dana wouldn’t have guessed it by looking at her. Cathy was her height, slight of build with dark hair, which was tied back in a loose ponytail. A quick review of her outfit caught Dana by surprise. She wore gray sweatpants and an SFU hoodie. Had she just come from the gym?
“Cathy, this is Dana Lawson. Dana, Cathy Jennings.” Harvey stepped aside after the introduction.
Dana eagerly took the woman’s hand. “Hello, Ms. Jennings. It is a pleasure to meet you. I don’t mind saying I’m a huge fan. I’ve been reading your books since I was a young girl.” She felt like an idiot after the long hello. There was an awkward silence as Cathy glanced down at their hands. Dana was still shaking hers, and for a lot longer than was customary. The heat rose in her cheeks as she let go. “I’m sorry; I’m a bit excited.”
Cathy caught her eyes. “It’s okay. I understand, and, please, call me Cathy or CJ if you like.” She paused. “Since you were a young girl, huh? Now I feel old.” She gave her a playful wink.
They sat, and soon the server was at their booth taking orders. Dana opted for the soup and sandwich, while Harvey had a Club on whole wheat and Cathy a large Cobb salad. As they ate, they talked about the weather, world events, family happenings, the usual stuff. Eventually, the topic turned to writing.
Setting her fork down, Cathy dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Dana, I’ve read your reviews and some of your work. You’re a very talented writer.” There was a pause, and Dana enjoyed the flattery, but she felt a but coming. “But.” And there it was. “Have you considered trying your hand in another genre?”
Dana studied her for a moment. Cathy looked back, eyebrows raised in question. She was serious. “Um…No. Not really.”
“I see. You should try. You’re more than capable of writing something more meaningful, I’m sure.” She picked up her fork and speared a piece of chicken.
At that moment Dana felt as if her heart was that piece of chicken. “More meaningful? And what exactly is wrong with romance as a genre?” She worked to maintain calm in her voice.
“There’s nothing wrong with it per se. I find those stories are usually predictable and somewhat contrived.” She paused as she sipped her water. “I mean, it’s always boy meets girl, boy loses the girl, boy gets the girl back, and they live happily ever after. Or, in your case, its girl meets girl. It’s all so low brow really.”
Dana couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but Cathy didn’t stop there.
“I realize romance is the highest grossing genre in the industry, but that only goes to show there are a lot of trailer parks with lonely housewives out there.”
Jesus! Dana set her spoon down and pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. She was speechless and hurt. This woman she had idolized for so many years had, in three minutes, trashed her life’s work. She had grown a thick skin over the years when it came to negative reviews by critics. But this struck deeper than anything negative that had ever been said about her work in the past. Not wanting to burst into tears in front of everyone, she excused herself and went to the washroom.
With her hands resting on the cold porcelain sink, she hung her head and cried. She tried to contain the sound, but she needed to breathe, and a loud sob echoed throughout the room when she drew a breath.
“Hey, are you all right?” a disembodied voice from a nearby stall asked.
Dana jumped. She thought she had been alone. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she sniffed and leaned down to splash water on her face. When she stood, a hand holding paper towel appeared in front of her. She looked at the woman attached to the hand, and her breath caught. Green eyes looked back at her from a concerned face framed with long red hair. “Mac?” she breathed.
“No. I’m Sheryl,” the woman said softly. “Are you sure you’re okay? Can I call someone for you?”
She dried her face with paper towel and looked back at the woman. Her hair was now dirty blonde, and her eyes were hazel. She blinked a couple of times. Damn, now she was hallucinating. She shook her head. “Thank you for the towel. I’m fine. Just a bit of bad news. Nothing serious though.”
The woman hesitated, watching her for a few more moments. “Well, okay then. If you’re sure. Take care then,” she said before leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Dana checked her reflection in the mirror. She had been sure she had seen Mac standing there. She wished it had been. God, she missed her. With one more glance in the mirror, she took a breath and headed back to the table.
Upon her returned, Cathy was gone. She gave Harvey a questioning look.
“She had to go,” he said as she sat. “But she did want to apologize if she offended you.” He looked at her, sympathy in his voice. “Are you okay? Her comments were hurtful. I’m sure.”
She shrugged. “I’m fine. There’s an adage about never meeting your idols. You’ll always be disappointed when you discover they’re only human.”
“True that, Dana. True that,” he said. “Did you want dessert or coffee?”
“No. I’m good, Harvey, thanks.”
“Okay then. If you don’t have any further questions, let me pay the bill, and I’ll take you back to your car so you can enjoy the rest of your day.”
Back at the hotel, Dana kicked off her shoes, loosened the button on her slacks, pulled a bottle of wine from the minibar and flopped down on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, unable to get the image of Mac ha
nding her the paper towel from her head. “Fuck me.” She sighed.
Retrieving the file folder she had tossed on the bed earlier, she thumbed through the pages. The offer was terrific: on campus for a few hours three days a week, put on a few workshops, give a few lectures, put in a little one-on-one time with students. The rest of the week was hers to do with as she pleased. It should have excited her down to her bones, but it didn’t have the same appeal anymore. Then there was Cathy. What a letdown that had been. How could she work with a person who thought her writing was meaningless?
She tossed the folder back on the bed and closed her eyes. Mac was there, smiling at her. The image lingered until her phone chimed, indicating a received text. She grabbed the phone; it was from Jenny. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed it wasn’t Mac, but knowing it was her best friend helped to lift her spirit.
Hey, sweetie. How was the meeting? Call me. Miss you.
She cleared the message and dialed.
Jenny picked up on the second ring. “Hey, you! I didn’t expect you to call so quickly.”
“Hi, Jen. How are things?” She put her on speaker phone before adjusting the pillows behind her back and sinking into a more comfortable position on the bed.
“You don’t sound too chipper, hon. Are you okay?” Jenny had her concerned best buddy tone going on.
She sighed and twisted the cap off the bottle of wine. “Not really, Jen. I’m all sorts of screwed up right now.”
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did you get in an accident?”
She chuckled. “No, nothing like that. Calm down.”
“Oh, good. Don’t say things like that when I’m a million miles away and can’t do anything about it.” The sound of a chip bag opening came from the speaker. “Okay. So, spill, girlfriend. Why are you all screwed up?” The distinctive crunching of a chip followed.
“I think I may be losing her.” She pulled a swallow from the all-too-small wine bottle.
“Her? You mean Mac?”
“Yeah.” Dana sniffed.
“Sweetie, no. Tell me what happened.” The voice was soft and comforting as she knew it would be.
