by Karen Swan
‘Something like that,’ Hap demurred, giving a noncommittal smile.
‘Oh. Are you a wine critic?’ Ronnie asked him, smiling up sweetly at Jack as he handed her a glass.
‘I’m the president of sales for a vineyard in BC. We specialize in ice wines.’
Meg gulped, keeping quiet. Ice wine? Was that like frozen vodka?
‘Ooh! I love the Inniskillin,’ Ronnie enthused.
‘Yes, that’s a very good Riesling ice wine – we specialize more in Pinot Noirs – but they’re actually just down the way from us.’
‘And where’s that?’
‘The Okanagan Valley?’
‘Wow. So what brings you all the way over here then?’
‘The Toronto Food and Wine Show.’
‘Sounds like my kinda gig,’ Ronnie smiled. ‘I bet the crowds, though . . . ?’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe,’ Hap said with a roll of his eyes. ‘And you’re a doctor? Jack said you work together.’
‘That’s right. I’m in my second year,’ Ronnie said, looking suddenly nervous as her junior status was flagged up. There was no doubt this – if it became a ‘this’ – could get tricky at work for them both. But Meg saw the way Jack was looking at her sister. ‘Jack’s the guy keeping everything together when the proverbial hits the fan,’ Ronnie said, with a nod towards him.
‘You guys pull the most insane hours,’ Hap said, looking between them both.
‘Well, the only reason Ronnie’s here now and not in scrubs is because she was pretty much forced to take her annual leave,’ Jack said with a wry smile.
‘Which was, thankfully, the perfect opportunity to force my sister to come and see me,’ Ronnie added quickly, bringing her into the conversation.
Hap smiled and looked at Meg. ‘How about you, Meg? What do you do? Crazy hours too?’
‘Oh, no. I work in a ski-rental store in Banff,’ she said quickly, before taking a large gulp of her drink, predicting the small silence that followed as her lack of career, her complete absence of ambition, stalled the evening before it had even got going.
‘What do you . . . uh, do in the summer then? There’s no glacier over there, is there, for summer skiing?’
‘No. We switch over to selling hiking and climbing equipment,’ she nodded.
There was another pause.
‘I’m guessing you must get to meet people from all over,’ Jack said optimistically.
‘That’s right,’ she nodded, taking another glug of wine and wondering how she could introduce a conversation about budgies. She shot Ronnie a desperate look. She was bombing, failing, embarrassing them both . . .
‘But that’s not Meg’s overriding focus, is it, Meg?’ Ronnie stared back at her with wide, prompting eyes.
Meg blinked. It wasn’t?
‘Titch . . .’ Ronnie prompted.
‘Oh.’ She frowned. ‘Well, I don’t think—’
‘Titch? Titch snowboards?’ Hap asked.
‘That’s right.’
‘What do you . . . ?’ he enquired, clearly interested.
But Meg couldn’t say the words. My fiancé set it up. My dead fiancé.
‘Meg’s a part-owner in the company,’ Ronnie said instead, her brown eyes shining proudly. ‘She helped set it up with some friends in high school.’
‘Well, I didn’t really have anything to do with the running of the busi—’ Meg protested, but Ronnie squeezed her knee.
‘Nonsense. You gave them the deposit for the shop, didn’t you? And it’s your designs on the boards. They’re a major part of the brand’s USP.’
‘You did those graphics?’ Hap asked, looking astonished.
Meg was suspicious of his interest. ‘Yes,’ she said in a quiet voice.
‘I’m always telling Meg she should set up her own graphic-design consultancy. She’s got such a fresh take and a really unique look,’ Ronnie said. It was true, the idea for running her own business was Ronnie’s; she’d been saying it for years but Meg had always shrugged it off, seeing only the implied insult – that her present life was not enough – rather than the implicit compliment.
Hap leaned in, interestedly. ‘I got one of the Crush limited editions last year.’
‘You board?’ she asked, mildly surprised. Somehow, she didn’t take him for a tricks rider.
‘No,’ he said slowly, looking bashful. ‘To be honest, I put it on the wall in my apartment.’
‘Hap’s into his design statements, God help us,’ Jack said with a groan.
‘Hey, you’re just jealous because one of us can rock a trilby.’ Hap pulled a face. ‘I fully admit I’m the classic case of “all the gear, no idea”.’
Both men laughed and Meg did too. Mitch and Tuck would have despised him on the spot but she liked his honesty. Most men would rather have pretended they were pro-shredders than risk losing face and admit they’d bought a snowboard because they liked the colours and patterns on it!
‘Well,’ Hap said, reaching for the wine bottle and refreshing everyone’s glasses. ‘If you did those designs, then frankly you have a moral responsibility to step up and get your work out there. It needs to be seen.’ He looked straight at her and she felt a jolt at the sudden connection; it had been so long since she’d looked anyone in the eye, she realized. All these months, she’d bluffed her way through with vague smiles and saying exactly what people wanted to hear, keeping all but Dolores and Lucy at arm’s length. Even Jonas, her unlikely confidant, had been bodily removed from the equation, so that he was more of a disembodied sounding board than a living, breathing person, much less a living, breathing man. But this guy, though he was foreign to her socially and culturally, though he was completely not ‘her type’, he somehow cut through her act. He didn’t know her past or her present, her tragedies and sorrows. He just saw the girl in front of him in black jeans with a nervous smile. It felt liberating.
Hap sat back in the chair but still watching her.
A sudden change made her look up – the sky had quickly dropped into darkness but it wasn’t stars she saw above her but strings of fairy lights flickering on, strung up between the glass-roof rafters – a pretend starry sky.
‘So what did you two do today?’ Jack asked, directing the question to Ronnie. ‘CN Tower?’
‘Obvs,’ she concurred. ‘And we’d gone SUP boarding this morning before we saw you, so we felt pretty entitled to slob for the rest of the day. We just sunbathed in the park and then hung out by the harbourfront.’
‘Hey, it’s a shame we didn’t see you – we were down there this afternoon, tinkering about,’ Hap said. ‘We were getting ready for taking Jack’s boat out tomorrow.’
‘You’ve got a boat?’ Ronnie asked with an envious tone.
‘Well, it’s no gin palace but . . .’ Jack shrugged. ‘It’s my Sunday routine – pager turned off, picnic and a day on the water. Couldn’t be without it.’
‘Living the dream,’ Ronnie quipped.
‘Well, you wouldn’t have said that if you’d seen my living quarters in the cabin. When I first moved to the city, I spent all my down-payment for a condo on the boat instead. I had to live on it for eighteen months.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘It was a bit cramped.’
‘Or cosy,’ Ronnie shrugged, shooting him a coy look. ‘Depending on how you look at it.’
‘Or cosy.’ Jack grinned and Meg felt suddenly embarrassed as the hitherto-unspoken attraction between Ronnie and Jack spilled onto the terrace, joining their group like a fifth presence. ‘You know, you should join us tomorrow, if you’re free. We’d love to have you.’
‘Yeah, Jack could show off his knot-tying prowess to you,’ Hap teased. ‘Ask him to do his bosun, that’s the hardest one.’
Meg tuned out, looking up at the pretend stars again, unable to see the real thing in the sky thanks to the city’s lights. Unlike at home, where night settled over the valley like a velvet cloak – pure and absolute in its darkness – here it was more of a gauze, a reddish haze from
the city percolating upwards and dimming the stars. She wondered what it must be like to live in a place where they were invisible, a notion rather than a fact – where you had to be content with merely believing they were there, though they couldn’t be seen.
She thought of Jonas, only yesterday speeding up there amongst them like a pinball in a machine, taking in the Gobi desert, the Taj Mahal, Ayers Rock, the Amazon, and she smiled to think how much more epic his scale of sightseeing was, taking in the world’s great wonders in less time than it took her to visit this one city. She wondered how he was feeling having returned to Earth, putting boots back on the ground and becoming like everyone else again. Just a man. He would walk through crowds and do his shopping and buy socks and no one would be able to tell that he was one of that tiny elite who had stepped off this planet and seen the bigger picture.
‘So are you going to go for it?’ Hap asked, watching her stare at the fairy lights. Though they were no substitute, they were certainly pretty, throwing dappled shadows down upon the terrace.
‘Go for what?’
‘Setting up your own business like Ronnie says. You’ve clearly got the talent.’
‘Oh, well, it’s not that simple,’ she demurred.
‘Why not?’
Meg hesitated, trying to remember what Lucy had told her when she’d dared to voice the thought . . . Dolores needed her. She wouldn’t cope with the stress.
‘I mean, I can see it would be tricky if you couldn’t draw,’ he added, grinning. ‘But . . .’
‘I have other commitments that would make it impossible. I work closely with a friend and she needs me.’
‘You mean the ski-rental thing?’
‘Yes. She’s much older. She doesn’t have anyone else.’
‘Don’t believe a word of it,’ Ronnie said, with a roll of her eyes. ‘Dolores is tough as old boots. She’d be fine if Meg left. Meg just doesn’t want to take a chance.’
‘She’s seventy-three years old,’ Meg replied defensively.
‘Exactly. A seventy-three-year-old pair of boots. Imagine the hide on them. You wouldn’t mess.’
The guys chuckled but Meg felt angry, angry that Ronnie – after a day in which they’d been closer than they had in years – had chosen now to pick on her again.
‘I’m amazed she’s still working if she’s that age,’ Jack said politely, clocking Meg’s expression.
‘Well, she may not now, that’s the thing,’ Meg said hotly, shooting her sister a furious look. Dolores’s recovery was going to be slow – certainly slower than Dolores would be happy with – but what if she never fully got her strength back? She could have died. Even Dolores wouldn’t bounce back from this quickly. She needed Meg more than ever. ‘She was attacked by a bear last week and was in Intensive Care for three days.’
‘Jesus!’ Hap exclaimed, looking genuinely shocked. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Meg was there,’ Ronnie said.
‘You were there?’ Hap repeated, looking ever more astonished. ‘And now you’re . . . you’re here? Looking like that?’
Like what? Meg wondered, immediately regretting letting Ronnie do her make-up, wishing she’d never brought the subject up. She didn’t care what Dolores said – it was no laughing matter. It wasn’t fine just because they’d survived.
‘But how are you not freaking out?’
‘It didn’t go for me,’ she said with a calm she wasn’t feeling. She was remembering the sight of the bear on its hind legs again, Lucy curled up on the ground . . .
Ronnie squeezed her arm proudly. ‘No. Meg sprayed it. She forced it to back off. She saved Dolores’s life.’
‘You sprayed the bear?’ Hap chuckled, shaking his head. ‘Maybe you should go into bodyguarding instead.’
Even Meg chuckled at that. ‘Now there’s a thought.’ She flexed a bicep, her arm looking pathetically weedy.
‘Maybe not,’ he winced, continuing the joke, his eyes steady upon her.
Meg felt another jolt of electricity again, not quite able to understand it. He wasn’t anything like Mitch, he wasn’t her type. And yet . . . there was an undercurrent, she couldn’t deny it.
Jack smiled, watching the japes like a tolerant father. ‘Listen, we’ve got reservations for dinner downstairs in the Pretzel Bar. It’s got live music and they do great food . . . you up for joining us, or have you got to go on elsewhere?’
Ronnie bit her lip but deferred to Meg with an arched eyebrow. What could Meg possibly do but agree? Ronnie was almost aglow with excitement and delight.
‘Sure,’ Meg shrugged. ‘I’m so hungry. I could eat a—’
‘Bear?’ Hap asked, as they stood up.
They walked back inside, Ronnie and Jack just ahead, Jack saying something quietly in Ronnie’s ear that made her look up at him with a happy smile. Meg smiled at the sight of them, feeling hopeful – her little sister had never been one for boyfriends, she’d always been too busy studying, her sights set on distant horizons that the small-town boys back home couldn’t see; and now, of course, there was never time. It made total sense she should date a doctor.
Meg put her hand on the rail as they got to the top of the stairs.
‘Be careful here, the steps are steep,’ Hap said, gently putting his hand on her waist.
Meg immediately stiffened as she began to climb down the steps, her heart racing faster than if she was running up them. The restaurant was on the next floor down and she could hear the music thump as they rounded the corner, the vibrations of the bass travelling through the walls.
She was on the last step, Ronnie and Jack already standing by the door of the bar, when she felt his hand drop down to the curve of her bum and ever so slightly squeeze.
She gave an audible gasp and Ronnie turned instantly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘The budgie!’ Meg cried.
Ronnie blinked at her, open-mouthed. ‘What?’
‘We forgot to feed the budgie!’
Jack turned to Ronnie. ‘You’ve got a budgie?’
‘Uh . . . yes . . . yes . . .’ Ronnie replied, her eyes never leaving her sister, an entire conversation passing between them in silence before she suddenly turned to Jack with an apologetic shrug. ‘I’m so sorry, we’d better call a rain check – we left her out of the cage too. We should head back or she’ll be tearing up the apartment . . .’
‘Really?’ Jack looked gutted.
‘Yes, uh . . . fearsome temper,’ Ronnie said regretfully, Jack and Hap looking at them both in amazement as Meg grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away, bounding into the street, her arm already outstretched for a cab.
Ronnie followed after in silence, knowing there was nothing to be done. The code word had been activated and a deal was a deal.
Date night was over.
Chapter Twenty
Sunday 30 July 2017
‘Listen, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,’ Ronnie said, spreading an avocado on her toast and drizzling it with chilli oil.
Meg watched, mesmerized that this was what people ate for breakfast here. Whatever happened to cereal or pancakes and waffles? ‘Ron, I leapt like a freaking salmon,’ she moaned, reliving the mortification again and again. She had barely slept, her brain trying to process what her body had done, as she tossed and turned. What was wrong with her? So he’d touched her backside? No, grazed it. So what? She wasn’t ten! And as for . . . Oh, God. ‘We forgot to feed the freaking budgie?’ Who said that? Who? Who?
Ronnie pulled a sympathetic face. ‘You’ve just got to try to think of it as a compliment that he’s attracted to you. After all, you are going to have to get used to the idea that guys like you, regardless of whether you choose to act on it.’
But Meg just groaned. Her phone beeped with a new email and she clicked on it uninterestedly. Another Gap sale? Lucy wanting to know if Ronnie had made her cry yet . . . ?
‘So listen, what do you want to do about today? Are we going to go out on the boat?’
Meg st
ared at the email, her heart accelerating to a gallop as she saw who it was from. She had a delayed reaction of at least five seconds before she heard what Ronnie had said and looked up in surprise. ‘Jack’s boat?’
Ronnie shrugged. ‘He’s texted, reiterating the offer about joining them, but listen, it’s no biggie to me. I don’t want you to feel awkward. I’m only mentioning it ’cause I need to get back to him.’ She took in Meg’s face – sort of frozen. ‘But . . . you know what? I’ll just say we’ve got plans.’
Meg watched her, knowing that her sister was protesting too much. ‘But you really like him.’
Ronnie’s gaze flickered up to hers and then back down again. ‘I can see him any time. I’ll see him at work when I get back. We can grab a coffee maybe.’
‘Grab a coffee? Instead of lounging around on his boat? I don’t think so.’
Ronnie leaned in. ‘Look, it would mean you coming too.’
‘I realize that. It’s fine.’
Ronnie looked surprised. ‘It is?’
‘Absolutely. I over-reacted last night. You were right. I have to get used to . . .’
‘Men?’
‘Exactly,’ Meg murmured, her eyes falling back to the email on her screen.
From: Jonas Solberg
Subject: Hello from the other side
Hey there, Dog-Dog-Ellie,
So, as you may have heard, it wasn’t exactly the re-entry we wanted but I guess it’s true what they say about coming back to Earth with a bump. The bad news is that gravity and I are not friends right now. Even just typing this is taking more strength than I can fathom. On the bright side, it should only be for a few days. Well, weeks maybe. Remember how I said I was looking forward to walking again? I take it back. The soles of my feet are so tender, I’m having to wear Crocs to get around. Really not a good look. It’s as well only astronauts and scientists are seeing me right now. (Although did you see my Kazakh return outfit? Hoping not.)
How was Toronto? Did you sip martinis at Soho House?
I’m now stuck at Houston being tested around the clock so all and any news of the outside world is welcomed! Arms too feeble to type more. Write back.
J.
