This Sweet Escape

by J. Evans

  The moan comes again, higher pitched this time with a plaintive whimper at the end that makes me worry this girl is in serious pain.

  “Are you okay?” I hiss into the darkness. “Can I get you anything? Tylenol or something?”

  “It’s just Sheila,” an unfamiliar voice answers. “She’ll moan all night, and not remember what she was dreaming about in the morning. I think Percy has some extra earplugs in her bag. I can try to find them for you if you want.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got headphones if I need them.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  “Good night,” I say, and do my best to relax into the mattress, but it feels like I’m sleeping on a marble slab. I hadn’t noticed how hard the bed was when I lay down—I was so desperate to close my eyes I could have passed out leaning against a wall—but now I’ve had enough rest to notice how uncomfortable I am.

  Since I threw away my phone and haven’t had time to buy a watch, I have no idea what time it is, but I feel refreshed and strangely keyed up. Last night, I’d been freaked out by the taste of that kid’s shirt in my mouth and the sight of Danny unleashing his violent side in a way I haven’t seen in forever, but now the memory of how we took care of the threat to our safety makes me feel proud and…hopeful. Danny and I are a good team. Life threw a lot of shit at us yesterday, but we dealt with it and made the best of every bad situation. I know we have miles to go and many bridges to cross before I can call this escape a success, but right now, I feel confident that we’ll get there. Together.

  I try to sleep for a little longer, but when Sheila the moaner starts up again, I don’t reach for my headphones. Instead, I grab my purse and my tennis shoes and slip quietly out of the room into the dimly lit hallway. For a moment, I think about peeking into the men’s dorm to see if Danny is awake, but decide against it. He needs his sleep, and I can kill a couple of hours alone at the coffee shop downstairs. It will probably be good for me, give me time to think through the rest of the plan again with a clearer head.

  I tug on my shoes and run my fingers through my hair, but I don’t head into the bathroom to make sure I’m presentable before I head downstairs. Running a coffee shop next to a youth hostel, the waitresses must be used to rumpled kids rolling in at all hours. And I went to sleep in my black track pants and a white long-sleeved tee shirt, so I look more like I’m headed out for a run than rolling out of bed.

  For a second, I contemplate a run—nothing helps me organize my thoughts like pounding pavement—but I dismiss the idea almost immediately. This neighborhood is rough, and I don’t want to risk running into trouble alone. Like it or not, the world isn’t safe for a woman by herself, or even with someone, if that someone is an asshole like my stepbrother.

  Alec’s face floats through my mind as I pad down the stairs, through the common room where the clock on the wall proclaims the time to be four forty-five a.m., and out the front door to the hostel. But by the time I push inside the twenty-four hour coffee shop next door, I’m not thinking of anything but how good coffee sounds, and whether or not I’ll order breakfast alone or wait for Danny to come down later. With every passing moment, I’m getting better at letting go of the past. At this rate, by the time Danny and I reach our last scheduled stop, I will be that new Sammy I’ve been dreaming about, the kind of carefree girl who can convince her boyfriend to stay in New Zealand without making him wonder if she’s completely lost her mind.

  I’m smiling as I follow the waitress in the plaid pants and bright yellow sweater to my booth. When I see the man seated at the next booth, my smile becomes a laugh. Seeing him here, looking adorably rumpled with his cheeks covered in golden stubble and his hair hanging in slightly tangled waves around his shoulders, feels like a sign of good things to come.

  “Hello, stranger,” I say, leaning a hip against Danny’s booth. “Is this seat taken?”

  He looks up with a grin. “It is now. Sit down, woman. I’ve got enough food coming for five people.”

  “Good, I’m starved.” I slide into the booth and wave away the menu the waitress tries to give me. “That’s okay. I’ll just take coffee and steal half of whatever he’s having.”

  “I’ll be right back with coffee and water,” she says, hustling back to the front of the restaurant with a spring in her step.

  “You couldn’t sleep, either?” Danny asks.

  “No, there was a moaner in my room,” I say with a shrug. “But it’s okay. I feel rested. I feel great actually. How about you? How are your knuckles?”

  Danny studies me for a beat before nodding. “They’re okay, and I feel good. I slept hard until about twenty minutes ago.” He pauses, but I can tell he’s left something unsaid.

  “What’s up?” I ask. “You still stressed about last night?”

  His tips his chin to the side, the way he does when he’s not sure what to say, before shaking his head. “No, not stressed, just…”

  “Just what?” I push, feeling bolder than I have since Danny and I got on the plane. “Spit it out. I can take it. Are you still upset with me for not picking up the phone last week?”

  “No.” He tucks his hair behind his ears and studies his own mug of creamy coffee. “I don’t know. Maybe. A little. Something still feels off kilter. Ever since—”

  “Okay, I’ve got coffee, water, and a share plate for the lady,” the waitress says, returning with a tray balanced on one arm. “And scrambled eggs with cooked tomatoes, mushrooms, toast, and a side of beans, an order of banana pancakes, and a side of bacon for the gentleman.” She finishes setting the steaming plates of food on the table and stands beaming down at us. “Anything else I can get for you two?”

  “No, this is great,” I say. “Thanks so much.”

  As she promises to check back in a few minutes with a coffee refill and hurries away, I turn back to Danny with my most determined smile. “Yesterday was a weird day all around, so I think that explains that, but as far as before…” I take a bracing breath, launching into my next lie with hardly a flicker of guilt in my chest. “I’ve decided to leave school. I dropped out after finals.”

  “What?” Danny shakes his head. “But why? I thought you loved the program. And you’ve been doing so great. Like, straight As and everything.”

  “I know, and I did like it, but there are a lot of things I don’t love about L.A. and it’s so hard being away from you for so much of the year…” I take a sip of coffee to cover my moment of hesitation while I think of how best to spin this. “I’ve been thinking all semester about what I really want to do with my life and I decided last week that finishing school isn’t it. I want to get started on the future. I’m tired of waiting. I can’t make it through the rest of undergrad, let alone the two years of grad school it would take to get a really good job.”

  I add more cream to my coffee and stir it in slow circles to avoid making eye contact. “I would have told you what was happening, but my parents were already riding my ass. Even Mom and you know how easily distracted she is. I was just afraid you’d try to talk me out of it, too.”

  Danny blows a long breath out through pursed lips. “I would have. I mean, you’ve worked so hard and you always said management consulting was the perfect career for someone who loves to travel.”

  “But so is teaching surf lessons,” I say, looking up from my coffee. “I’m not my dad or Penny. I’ve been buying into the fear they’ve been selling for years, but I don’t need to drive a hundred thousand dollar car or own a mansion on Maui to be happy. All I need is enough to get by…and you.”

  He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his, sending a tingling feeling racing up my arm. “You have me, and I have enough to cover all the basics for both of us. I just don’t want you to look back and regret this, or resent me for being the reason you gave up on a dream.”

  “Business management consulting was never my dream,” I say, threading my fingers through his, this man who can still make me tingle after all the he
ll of the past few months. This conversation started with a lie, but it’s going to end with the truth. “You’re my dream, Danny Cooney. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “You’re my dream, too,” he says, lifting my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” I smile even though my eyes are starting to sting. “This trip is going to be amazing. The bad luck is behind us now. I feel it in my gut.”

  A smile creeps across his face. “At least we know the chances we’ll get mugged in the car on the way to the river are pretty low.”

  I laugh and sniff away the tears. I don’t want to cry, not now, when the future is finally starting to look bright. “I would kiss you, but I didn’t brush my teeth before I came down.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he says, leaning in to kiss me, softly, but not so sweetly, across the plates of food covering the table. “I can’t wait to be alone with you tonight.”

  I shiver but refuse to get nervous. Tonight will take care of tonight. From now on, I’m all about living in the moment.

  I smile as Danny sits back in his seat. We spend the next hour guzzling coffee and eating until we feel like we’re going to explode. And then I slide into the booth beside him and we spend another hour drinking more coffee while paging through my guidebook, marking all the places we want to visit and watching the morning sun fill the diner with warm, hopeful light.

  Chapter Eight

  Danny

  “All who joy would win.

  Must share it—Happiness was born a twin.”

  -Lord Byron

  New Zealand is insanely beautiful, Sam is back to her old self again, and other than the fact that her family is threatening to disown her for dropping out of school, all is right with the world.

  We head out of Auckland a little after ten o’clock, and by eleven, we’re in the middle of the most amazing fall color I’ve ever seen. Explosions of orange and red line the road by the highway, while in the distance snow-capped mountains warn that winter is on its way in and all this wild color will only be here for a little longer. But looking out the window at the crystal clear river winding beside the road, I can imagine how beautiful the north island is going to be with bare branches haunting the landscape. I start thinking maybe I can make an extended trip, like Sam was talking about at breakfast, work after all.

  “I think we should stay until December,” I say when Sam and I pull off at a roadside fruit stand to grab lunch halfway to Lake Taupo.

  “You do?” She turns to me, grinning like she got her birthday presents early. “Really?”

  “Really.” That smile makes me determined to find a way to make this work. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her smile like that. “I’d already planned on running the business in Croatia long distance, and I can call Gus and tell him I need to put off starting the location in Maui for six months or so. He’s been hedging anyway, wondering if he could afford to put up his half of the money. This will give him more time to save and I can add some of the cash I was going to invest to our travel budget.”

  “Or we can get jobs so you don’t have to,” Sam says. “There are tons of beaches here. Come spring, we can teach surfing, and in the meantime I bet we can find work at a campground or something. I had a friend who came here last winter and got a camper to rent for free in exchange for doing odd jobs around the campground and cleaning up after the guests.”

  “Sounds amazing,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her neck before murmuring into her hair, “I can’t wait to shack up in a camper with you.”

  Sam laughs as she spins away from me and wanders farther down the row of apples, plucking a juicy looking pink one from a tiny basket and checking it for bruises. “And you’re okay with missing the first six months of your new niece’s life?”

  I shrug. “Babies are mostly sleeping machines for the first few months anyway. As long as we make sure to get back to Croatia for Christmas, I won’t feel like I missed out. And Caitlin won’t care. She knows how long we’ve waited to be together. I’m sure she’ll be—”

  “Does that say seventeen dollars?” Sam asks, brow furrowing as she lifts the basket from the table.

  I lean down to take a closer look at the handwritten card tucked between two apples. “Jesus Christ. For five apples? Are they made of gold?”

  Sam places the pink apple carefully back into the basket and sets the basket back on the table. “My food budget won’t last long if that’s the going rate for apples.”

  “The breakfast this morning was insane, too,” I say. “But I thought that was because we were in the city. You’d think a roadside stand would have better prices.”

  Sam turns to me, worry in her big eyes for the first time all day. “Is this crazy? Are we going to starve to death in a foreign country?”

  I laugh as I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her close as a cool breeze whips through the stand, making her curls bob around her face. “No, we’re not going to starve to death. We just might need to start looking for those jobs sooner rather than later. Maybe I can talk to the people at the cave expedition. That sounds a lot like the tours I’ve been doing already. They might have a guide position open I’d qualify for.”

  “And if you have a job it’s easy to get a work visa here,” Sam says, leaning into me. “I read a little bit about it on the immigration website before we left.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t believe you had this all planned out.”

  “I wouldn’t call it planned,” she says with a crooked smile. “More like flying by the seat of my pants and hoping you’d want to come along for the ride.”

  I let my hand slip down to cup her bottom through her jeans. “Anytime your ass is involved, count me in.”

  Her breath rushes out as she squirms away. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find something we can afford for lunch. I saw a sign for a grocery store in one of the towns up ahead.”

  The rest of the afternoon is as perfect as the start of the day. We find a grocery store and bulk trail mix that only costs a small fortune and grab a couple of Lemon and Paeroa sodas to drink. We eat on a park bench overlooking the river we’re going to kayak tomorrow and watch a group of rafters drift by, looking snug in their life jackets and thick sweaters.

  “I guess no one falls in?” I ask.

  “I guess not,” Sam says. “I bet that water’s freezing if you did.”

  “Can’t be worse than the ocean in Porec this time of year,” I say, tipping my drink back, enjoying the way the sweet soda fizzes at the back of my throat. I stopped drinking beer a couple of years ago, when it became obvious I’d inherited Chuck’s weakness for alcohol and couldn’t stop with two or seven beers, but I miss that fizz. Most soft drinks can’t match it, but the L&P comes pretty damned closed.

  Just another thing to love about our new temporary home.

  By the time we reach our hotel in Taupo—a place that reminds me of an old fashioned hunting lodge with a view of Lake Taupo and more snow-capped mountains far in the distance—I’ve more than come around to the idea of living in New Zealand. I’m fucking thrilled and can’t wait to celebrate with Sam. I can barely keep my hands to myself as we check in at the front desk and get the key to our cabin, and the moment the door closes behind Sam, I drop my backpack and reach for my girl.

  “Don’t you want to look around first,” she says, laughing as I sweep her up into my arms.

  “I know where the bed is,” I say. “That’s all I need to know right now.”

  “But what about dinner? Our reservations are in an hour. I need to shower.”

  “We’ll shower after,” I say, tossing her onto the bed before reaching for my fleece and tugging it over my head. “I’ll wash your back, you can wash mine.”

  “Danny, for real.” She pushes up to sit against the heavy wooden headboard and draws her knees up to her chest. “I’d rather wait until after dinner. Take our time.”

  I pause with my belt half
way undone. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s been a long time, but is another couple of hours really going to make that much of a difference?”

  I study her for a long moment, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. She just wraps her arms around her knees, hugs her legs to her chest, and gazes uncomfortably out the window into the darkening woods, looking more like I suggested we get his and hers genital piercings than have sex for the first time in almost half a year.

  A second ago, I was so hard my boxer briefs felt like they were cutting off my circulation, but as I stand at the end of the bed, half-dressed, with my girlfriend so disinterested she doesn’t even sneak a peek at my chest, let alone invite me to join her on the bed, my erection dies a miserable death and our perfect day takes a turn as I realize what must have happened.

  The only time Sam has ever acted this way before was three years ago, when I came back to the island after her graduation from high school to find out she’d cheated with her best friend’s brother at the graduation party. They were both drinking beers in the hot tub when he leaned over and kissed her. She said she only kissed him back for a few minutes and regretted it immediately, but it had obviously fucked with her head. She was twitchy and weird for an entire week before I finally called her on it and she confessed to what happened one day while we were surfing.

  Not trusting myself not to completely lose my shit, I paddled in without saying a word to Sam, hitchhiked over to Sherry’s, and drank beer with Bjorn until four in the morning before I threw up and passed out. My hangover lasted for two days—two miserable days that convinced me it was time to get on the wagon with the rest of the Cooney men who were halfway functional and stay there. During those days I spent praying to the porcelain god and begging the world to stop spinning, Sam had called at least fifty times to apologize, but I’d refused to take her calls and let her messages pile up until my mailbox was full.