Where Trains Collide

by Amber Stokes

  “And that’s why I want to pass it on to you,” Ruth insisted. She pushed the book into Trisha’s hands before she could refuse.

  Trisha smiled as she stood and nestled the novel alongside her bird book in the back pocket of her suitcase. “Thank you. It was very nice to meet you.”

  “You, too, hon.” Ruth scooted back against her seat to let Trisha through, then offered a wave and a grin as Trisha headed toward the stairs. Trisha waved back and savored the happy little feeling of meeting a kind stranger on a train. The woman’s generosity gave her the strength to hold her head up as she descended the steps, her pink case clattering behind her.

  Chapter 4

  As the new arrivals emptied out of the train station, piling into cars with loved ones or stuffing their luggage into taxis that they must have called in ahead of time, Trisha tried not to panic. She knew Paul was still here. His presence seemed to hover around the edges of her vision. And despite what had happened between them, he was the kind of guy who would wait to make sure she was taken care of before going on his own way.

  If he had been heartless to the core, his rejection would have been so much easier to bear.

  Why hadn’t she thought to call a taxi during that final leg of their trip, when the only thing occupying her was her own self-pitying thoughts? She could try calling Samantha now, but she had wanted to surprise her at her apartment—not surprise her by asking for a ride.

  The whistle of the train startled her. She turned to see the long double-decker cars filing past the windows of the station one by one until they all disappeared, once again heading north. She wished desperately that it wasn’t too late to change her destination to Portland or even somewhere in Washington.

  Anywhere but where Paul lived.

  Suddenly, she spotted him, making his way toward her through a group of people waiting for the next train. She spun toward the entrance of the station and strode purposefully out the front doors. Too late to get a taxi now. She’d find a place to eat first.

  The day was overcast, but she kept her sunglasses on, dragging her suitcase behind her as she navigated the small parking lot. She had just stepped up onto the sidewalk right outside a bar when she heard him.

  “Trisha!”

  She couldn’t decide which would be worse: continuing on like a lost little girl or facing Paul again. He took the decision out of her hands by running to catch up with her.

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” he asked as he came alongside her.

  She glared at him, although the effect was probably rendered useless by her shades. She drew herself up and pulled her suitcase in front of her.

  “Why should you care?”

  A huff whooshed out of him as he shook his head. “Come on. Don’t give me that.”

  She waited for him to elaborate. But he only said, “You obviously need a ride. I’d be happy to take you wherever you need to go.”

  Home? And you’ll come with me? She could cry again at her own traitorous thoughts. “How do you know I’m not meeting someone just up the road here?”

  His glance shot to the bar and the two tattooed men chatting it up just a few feet away. When he looked at her again, his bright brown eyes filled with skepticism. She simply raised her eyebrows back at him. But when he reached for her suitcase, she knew she had lost.

  She trailed behind him as he headed through the parking lot, holding her purse close to her side. His silver Subaru Outback waited for them—a little dirty, but that just made it feel even more familiar. When he unlocked the car, she opened the passenger door and slid in while he put her suitcase in the trunk. The slam of the lid made her heart start to pound, and she wanted nothing more than to unbuckle her seat belt and flee. Back into the train station, down the road—it didn’t matter. Just away from this horrible, awkward, heartbreaking situation.

  Paul opened his door and Trisha closed her eyes, grateful for the sunglasses that afforded her a little privacy. Just get to Samantha’s apartment and you’ll be fine.

  “Where to?” Paul asked as he clicked his seat belt into place and turned on the ignition.

  She rattled off the address, and he gave a single nod as he headed out of the parking lot.

  What she wouldn’t give to be back on the train.

  Neither of them said a word as the car sailed through the busy streets of downtown Eugene. It wasn’t too far of a drive to reach the U of O campus and the nearby apartments. Trisha sighed in relief when Paul parked in front of an apartment complex.

  They sat in silence for a moment after he turned off the car. A siren wailed behind them, and some college students in cars yelled at one another with their windows rolled down. Impossible to tell if it was a loud but friendly exchange or a serious argument.

  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She released her seat belt and opened the car door, letting in the smell of greasy pizza that lingered in the air. The sounds of the outside world intensified, bursting the wordless anxiety that had surrounded the two of them.

  Paul opened his own door and walked around to the back. As he popped open the trunk and pulled out her criminally pink suitcase, he glanced at her. “Will you be all right?”

  It was an impossible question to answer. She wanted to ask him, “In what way?” But she ran with the meaning that was least likely to drown her in deeper drama.

  “I’m visiting Derrick’s girlfriend, Samantha. She’s super sweet.” A pause and a breath in and out, then she added, “I know she’ll be fine with me staying the night. I mean, she invited me to come up whenever…” She trailed off as Paul pushed off the trunk and crossed his arms.

  “You mean to tell me this friend isn’t actually expecting you?”

  She looked away, kicking at the loose gravel of the parking lot and blushing at his incredulous tone.

  The sky began to drizzle, spattering rain over the lot and causing the shouting guys to roll up their windows and finally move on. Paul’s feet shifted. “This isn’t like you. Since when do you up and travel somewhere without any sort of plan?”

  She pulled her suitcase closer. “I did have a plan. I wanted to surprise Samantha. She told me about her guest room, and she invited me to come visit sometime.”

  “You don’t just drop in at someone’s home in a completely different state without calling them first!”

  The exasperated slap of Paul’s hands on his jeans caused her to flinch. She willed the burning in her eyes to move to her spine and mold a backbone. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” The words were brave, but they came out all wrong. Why did that sound like a question?

  The sprinkling turned into a full Oregon rain. Gripping the handle of her suitcase tighter, Trisha wheeled around and headed to apartment number 8 on the first floor of the complex. The suitcase crunched over the lot and spit pebbles behind her.

  Forcing herself not to look back, she knocked on the door. Please let her answer. After a minute of silence, she knocked again, louder. The door remained firmly closed.

  Paul came up behind her. His dusty blond hair looked nearly brown, drenched as it was. His red shirt had turned a deep maroon, and rivulets of water traced his cheeks and mouth. The rain made it difficult for Trisha to tell from his expression whether he was really upset with her or merely annoyed.

  With trembling hands, she dug her iPhone out of her purse and scrolled through her contacts until she came to the name “Brielle”—Samantha’s nickname in the family from the time when she and Derrick had first met last winter. Trisha sent the call and held the phone to her ear, wishing fervently that Samantha would pick up.

  “Hey, Trisha!”

  Trisha breathed a sigh of relief and aimed a timid smile at Paul. “Hi, Samantha. Um, are you at home, by chance?”

  “Not at the moment. I’m actually with Derrick. We’re at the coast for a friend’s wedding. You remember me telling you about Mandy?”

  Trisha shut her eyes, felt the rain rise like steam off her burning cheeks. The c
losest coastal town was an hour away. Unless of course Samantha meant the redwood coast… Home. How was it Trisha didn’t even know her brother’s vacation plans? It had been too long since she’d talked to him—or Chloe and her parents, for that matter.

  “You still there?” Samantha’s voice took on a worried tone, rising slightly in pitch. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Trisha was sure her own high-pitched voice would give her away. “You’ll never guess where I am.” She meant to make light of the situation. Yet her voice broke on childish tears rather than the chuckle she intended.

  Silence hovered on the other end of the line. Then, “Oh my gosh. You’re in Oregon, aren’t you?”

  “Um, yeah. I thought I’d surprise you.” Trisha kept her eyes glued to her boots, pretending—rather unsuccessfully—that she wasn’t having this conversation in front of Paul. “It was stupid of me not to ask ahead of time. It was just kind of a last-minute decision.”

  “You’re welcome anytime, remember? I’m so glad you wanted to come visit.” Samantha’s usual warmth buoyed her voice. “We can head back right now and be there in a little over an hour. We’re in Florence. Is there somewhere you can wait in the meantime?”

  “I can’t ask you guys to do that.” Trisha shivered as the rain continued to soak through her sweater.

  “We have the whole weekend to enjoy the coast. It’s not every day I get to see my honorary sister.”

  Trisha laughed through the tears of embarrassment that dripped off her chin. “You’re the best honorary sister I’ve ever had.”

  Samantha chuckled. “You never did answer my question, though, about having somewhere to wait until we get there.”

  Trisha finally braved another sidelong glance at Paul. His arms were crossed, his head tilted as if he were trying to figure out where her phone call was going. “Um, I’m actually with someone. My…Paul.”

  That didn’t come out right.

  She became aware of uncontrollable trembles running through her body. Embarrassment? Or just the cold?

  Either way, Paul noticed and gestured toward his car. She followed him, listening to Samantha as her friend responded, “Paul… Wait, is this the same Paul you told me about? The one you dated for a while?”

  “Uh-huh.” A very nonchalant answer for a very painful reality. She watched as Paul once again popped the trunk and stuffed her suitcase among his duffel bag, backpacks, and water bottles.

  Then she slid into the front seat, grateful when Paul joined her and turned the ignition. A pleasant heat blasted through the vents.

  Samantha’s silence made Trisha squirm. She felt even more uneasy when Samantha spoke again, her tone cautious and subdued. “I’m sure that must be awkward. But I’m glad you have someone with you. What would you—? Well, this is probably a weird suggestion, but what would you think of joining us here on the coast? Could Paul bring you, do you think? Derrick and I are staying at a bed-and-breakfast at the Heceta Head Lighthouse tonight, and it would be so fun to have you join us.”

  Trisha bit her lip. A quick glance at Paul confirmed that he was still listening, likely trying to figure out the situation.

  “That sounds really great, but I don’t want to intrude on your vacation. I can find someplace to stay tonight. I have to head back to school tomorrow evening anyway.”

  “And come all this way just to stay at some motel and leave? Nope. I won’t allow it.” Her voice turned pleading—the kind of pleading that accompanies clasped hands and sisterly persistence. “Please say you’ll come. I’ll talk to someone here at the B and B and make sure it’s okay, but it shouldn’t be a problem for you to stay with me in my room.”

  Trisha sniffed, her heart feeling lighter. “Well…”

  “That’s a yes! I’ll let Derrick know, and you can give us a call when you get here. Will you be okay for now?”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t dare think too hard about that response. What exactly did “okay” mean? Could she be “okay” while being stuck with the too-sweet guy who had rejected her?

  “Great! See you soon.”

  The call ended, and Trisha let the phone slide down into her lap. The rain on the roof punctuated the ensuing silence.

  Paul drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “So you need a ride somewhere?”

  She nodded, playing with the icons on her phone and wondering how she’d ever work up the nerve to tell him about Samantha’s suggestion.

  Paul waved his hand over the screen until she glanced up at his face. Something in his eyes prompted her to release the heavy breath she’d been holding in. “Just tell me where you need to go, and I’ll get you there.”

  “The Heceta Head Lighthouse.”

  After another moment stretched long between them, he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

  She caught his gaze as he turned left out of the lot. His hazelnut eyes seemed to be asking her something, but she couldn’t tell what his intentions were. She used to understand so much about him—the look that said he wanted her to just trust him; the full laugh that meant he understood her joke, as opposed to the more reserved chuckle he shared in social settings. How much confidence she had once felt at the tilt of his smile that signaled his happiness in seeing her.

  Now his mannerisms and expressions were a foreign language. It was like thinking she had a firm grasp of Spanish from her high school classes, only to discover she knew next to nothing when she tried to converse with native speakers in Mexico.

  “I’ll pay you for the gas and the ride.”

  Should she read hurt or pride between the lines of his scrunched brow?

  “I don’t have to be back to work until Monday,” he offered. “I was just going to relax for the next couple days anyway. I don’t mind making a quick trip to the coast.”

  She studied his profile and the dark-blond stubble on his chin. His confident posture made her feel protected. Safe.

  “Okay, Paul Bunyan.” She shifted her weight and locked gazes with him. “You win.”

  Chapter 5

  The brisk air ushered Trisha inside Shari’s as Paul held the restaurant’s entrance door open for her. Paul had convinced her they needed to eat lunch before driving out to Florence, and her stomach had signaled its agreement with a groan before she could say a word.

  Trisha stepped up to the clear cases full of pies as Paul sat on one of the cushioned benches in the entryway. Luscious chocolate and gooey apples in crumbly crusts rested in the spotlights beneath the glass. As much as she loved a good dessert, though, the biggest temptation sat behind her—his presence lulling her into a dream where the past no longer existed and the future stretched on as brilliant as the autumn sun.

  “Just the two of you, then?”

  Trisha nodded and followed Paul and the middle-aged waitress with the curly hair to a small table in the middle of the restaurant.

  With a promise of water, the waitress left them to get settled and peruse their menus. But making a decision now was just as difficult for Trisha as it had been while on the train. Was she hungry enough for something like a burger? Would a salad be filling?

  After flipping through the laminated pages for several minutes, she forced herself to shut the menu. How was she supposed to make a choice about what she wanted to do in life if she couldn’t even decide what to order?

  Paul seemed preoccupied reading the descriptions of each meal. So she tapped the top of his menu. “Order for me?”

  He didn’t even look up as he replied, “Nope.”

  Her prolonged silence eventually caused him to set his menu down. She could sense his gaze finally on her, but her nose was tingling—a sure precursor to worse embarrassment.

  “Trisha,” his gentle tone cajoled, “how am I supposed to know what you feel like eating?” His voice deepened in that new way as he added, “Some decisions you have to make on your own.”

  Goosebumps rose on her skin, despite her sweater. She rubbed her arms. “You’re not just talking abo
ut lunch.” She glanced up in time to catch him shaking his head.

  The chill spread inside her. “Is that why you really broke up with me?”

  He pulled off the sunglasses that had been resting on top of his head and folded one arm in, then the other. Back out. In. Out. In.

  “I meant what I said on the phone. I didn’t think a long-distance relationship would work.”

  Hearing those words spoken to her again hurt just as bad now as it had then. Perhaps worse, with “long-distance” a hazy thing behind and before them, but his presence solid and real and close. Just across the table.

  He stood the sunglasses on their arms, resting them on the surface between her and him. His lips parted briefly, as if he had something more to say, but no words came as he let the glasses fall to the table.

  Trisha stared hard at her menu, recalling their summer together with different eyes.

  Their meals out, when she had let Paul order for the both of them.

  The exciting dates they had missed because she couldn’t make up her mind where to go—so they had stayed in, watching the same old movies.

  The frustration she had put him through when she had gone back and forth on whether or not to cut her hair. In the end, she had left it alone to grow unchecked.

  Not all decisions had been so drawn out, though. After all, she had picked Berkeley as her college of choice at the very beginning of her senior year. One of her favorite high school teachers spoke so highly of it all the time, she couldn’t imagine not attending there.

  But that was before she had started dating Paul. Before he had become the definition of her future.

  The waitress’s return saved Trisha from her own painful thoughts. The woman set two glasses of ice water on the table, sprinkled straws generously between them, and then asked for their orders. Paul glanced at Trisha before asking for a burger.

  Trisha opened her menu and pointed to a salad that had sounded good when she’d first come across it.