As soon as the backyard gate slammed shut, the boys dashed across the lawn and flung themselves at Claire. She traversed the distance between the gate and the back porch with one ragamuffin dangling from each leg. Theresa rushed down the porch steps to meet her, rescuing the foil wrapped platter in her outstretched hands just seconds before the boys succeeded in tackling their aunt to the ground.
“Aunt Claire, Aunt Claire, what did you bring uth? Ith it watermelon?” lisped Ryan, who was currently missing not one but both of his front teeth.
“Hey, mijo! Did the tooth fairy visit your house this week?” Claire asked as she struggled to sit up in the soft grass.
“Yeth! I got a dollar!” he replied with a toothless grin.
“Awesome! And yes, I brought watermelon. With those missing teeth, you’re going to be the seed spitting champ for sure this time!” She turned to look at her older nephew. “Jesse, have you started football practice yet?”
“Nah, not yet. Coach is on vacation in Orlando. Can you take us to Orlando, Aunt Claire?” the older boy asked while attempting his best pleading puppy dog expression.
“No, she cannot, young man!” Theresa interjected. “Your tia spoils you enough!”
“Sorry, mijo,” Claire said. “You’re mom’s right, though. Orlando’s kind of far. Tell you what, instead of Orlando, how about we go sailing one last time before school starts, huh?”
“Yes!” Jesse shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Sailing’s my favorite! Thanks, Tia.” With that, he and Ryan raced off across the lawn, arguing over which one was going to help Aunt Claire more with the sails the next time they were on the boat.
The boys played until it was time for dinner, then everyone sat in the cool shade of the porch to eat their burgers and hot dogs. As promised, Claire led the boys in a watermelon seed spitting contest after they ate, cheering them on as they sent seeds flying over the porch railing and watermelon juice cascading down their fronts. Soon the sun was low in the sky and Theresa announced that it was time for the boys to get ready for bed.
“Aww, Mom,” Jesse complained, “it’s not even dark yet!”
“I don’t care. It’s almost eight thirty and you have camp in the morning. Now, go hop in the shower!”
“Aunt Claire?” Ryan asked with a yawn, “Will you help me with my shower?”
“You bet, mijo.” She looked at her sister and shrugged guiltily. “After all, the watermelon juice is kind of my fault.”
“You're spoiling them.” Theresa shook her head indulgently. “Fine. But once they're in bed, I want to hear the latest on the new boyfriend.”
Claire nodded, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in her stomach. She took the boys by the hands and led them inside. She reemerged on the darkened porch an hour later, her tiny charges bathed and dressed in their superhero pajamas, with stories read and covers tucked. She pulled up a chair beside Theresa, propping her feet up on the coffee table where a trio of citronella candles burned to ward off the evening bugs.
“You don’t have to exhaust yourself every week with them,” Theresa said, stretching her arms lazily and turning her face toward her sister in the glowing light. “Those boys have their tia wrapped around their little fingers, and believe me, they know it.”
Claire noted her sister’s relaxed expression and smiled. Her back might ache in the morning from today’s rough and tumble, but she wouldn’t miss it for anything. She cherished the time spent with her nephews and it pleased her to give her busy sister a break now and then.
“I don’t mind. I like to spoil them. Besides, it’s only once a week. It’s not like I’ve got kids wearing me out every night like you do.” Though she tried to disguise it, the longing in her voice seeped through.
“Don’t worry, hermanita,” Theresa replied, “you’ll have your own babies before you know it. And you’ll be desperate for me to come over and rescue you for an evening, so you just remember that before you go running away to Boston for good, okay?”
Claire sighed. “Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.”
“What’s wrong? Problems with Jay?”
“No, nothing like that.” Claire replied, shaking her head. “Well, we haven’t chatted much the past few days because of some work crisis he has going on, but that’s not it. I’m just not having any luck finding a job.”
“Well, maybe that’s for the best.” Theresa put up her hand to fend off Claire's protest. “This way you can get to know each other better, maybe meet up for a long weekend, no strings attached. There’s no rush.”
“Yeah, I know. I just thought—”
“You thought there would be a big, blazing sign from the universe.” Theresa studied her sister quietly for a moment. “Claire, I think you’re one of the last people I know who truly believes in magic.”
“I don’t!” Claire straightened her back in indignation. “Well, okay, maybe I do,” she admitted, relaxing back against the cushion of her chair. “I don’t know. When you say it out loud like that, it makes me sound like I’m some dumb kid.”
“It’s not dumb to want your life to be magical. Who doesn’t want that? It’s just usually not how it works. You have to plod along and figure things out over time.” She gestured behind her toward the kitchen window where her husband was cleaning up after dinner. “Look at me and Larry. We dated off and on for years before we figured out what we wanted. But it turned out okay, right?”
“More than okay.” Claire took a deep breath, appreciating the sweet scent of roses in the night air. She could hear crickets chirping from grass that was still strewn with toys, and through the kitchen window came a faint clinking as Larry loaded the dishwasher. “Honestly, it’s perfect.”
Theresa laughed. “It’s far from perfect, but it works. And eventually you’ll find what works for you.”
“I want it now,” Claire said with an exaggerated whine, which her sister rewarded with the same pretend punch to the shoulder she’d used since they were children. “But seriously, Theresa, haven’t you heard anything from any of the people you contacted?”
“Just some polite rejections and a lot of promises to let me know if something comes up. A few possibilities if you can wait until next year. Here,” Theresa added, reaching for her phone, “I’ll forward the emails to you so you can follow up. Oh, wait.” She squinted at the phone. “Here’s one I didn’t see before. It must’ve come in Friday after I left the office.”
“What does it say?” Claire asked, sliding to the edge of her chair.
“Um, hold on. It’s… oh, wow.”
“Wow? Good wow or bad wow?”
“Good, maybe. It’s from the head of the English department at Exeter College, just north of the city. She says my email was forwarded to her because they had something open up unexpectedly. They’re already interviewing candidates and she could fit you—” Theresa's brow furrowed. “Oh, wait. It has to be this coming week because they need to make the decision by Friday. Oh, that’s too bad.”
“No it isn’t. I could do that.”
“You could get to Boston for an interview this week?”
“Yes!” Claire broke into a grin. “I can fly out tomorrow afternoon. As long as I’m home in time for Thursday’s exam, I can do it. In fact, this is probably the only week this whole summer it would work because my Wednesday class was canceled. You know what that means?”
“Let me guess,” Theresa said with a groan, “it’s a sign, right?”
Claire laughed. “Absolutely! But I have to get home and look for tickets right now if I’m going to make this work.” She jumped up and gave her sister a quick squeeze. “Thanks for dinner, sis, and tell Larry I’m sorry to rush off, okay?” She skipped down the porch steps and across the lawn, stopping to wave to her sister from the gate.
Back home, Claire sat in front of the computer reviewing her travel options. Her foot twitched anxiously against her chair leg as she studied the screen.
Am I really going t
o do this? There was a flight tomorrow afternoon that would get her into Boston late Monday evening. Her pulse raced at the realization that she could be there tomorrow night. Claire closed her eyes, breathing deeply to calm her shaky nerves. Hadn’t every sign pointed her in this direction? I have to have faith, she thought.
Claire focused on the screen. The only return flight was overnight on Wednesday. It wasn’t ideal. She’d have to drive straight from the airport to her Thursday class with no time to change or sleep, but it could be done. Claire looked at the note next to tomorrow’s flight, blinking bright red to warn her that there were just two seats available. Her stomach clenched.
Should I do it? The cost was exorbitant, but she had enough to cover it if she used the money she’d been saving to go back to England. That dream never seemed to work out, but maybe this one would.
She pulled up a Tech Cupid chat window. She needed to see what Jay thought. Actually, she knew what Jay would think if she were foolish enough to mention signs to him again. She’d brought it up once. That had been a mistake. Jay was too pragmatic for signs, and he’d made his scientific disdain for the subject painfully clear. It was one of the few things about which they disagreed. But he’d still want me to come, right?
Claire chewed on her bottom lip, trying to decide what to do. Her browser refreshed and the blinking message now informed her that there was only one seat left on tomorrow’s flight. She started to fill in the ticket form, keeping one eye on the chat window. It remained empty. It was well past midnight in Boston and Claire realized that she probably couldn’t reach him until morning. She held her hand on the mouse, the pointer hovering over the buy button. Her finger twitched, then she clicked the mouse decisively. One seat left. Another sign.
She was going to Boston.
Claire sent Jay a quick message before heading to her room to pack. She slept soundly that night despite her excitement for the upcoming trip. There was still no response from Jay the next morning as Claire prepared to teach her first class, but she wasn’t too concerned. She knew Jay was dealing with some serious issues at work and would respond when he could.
She’d hoped he might get back to her over his lunch break, but there were no new messages when she shut down her computer before heading to the airport. It was only on the plane, as Claire checked the Tech Cupid app one last time before switching her phone off for the flight, that she really started to worry.
In her rush to get to Boston in time, she’d forgotten one very important detail. Aside from her Tech Cupid account, she had no way of reaching Jay. She didn’t have another email address, or a phone number. She knew where he worked, but had no idea where he lived, apart from it being somewhere on Beacon Hill. What if she didn’t hear from him once she arrived? Were there a lot of apartments that overlooked the Charles? Could she just check mailboxes until she found his name?
And that’s when it hit her. She was flying three thousand miles across the country to meet a man that she hoped to spend the rest of her life with, and she didn’t even know his last name.
6
Jamie floated in the dimly-lit diving pool, savoring the feeling of weightlessness. Every muscle in her body ached with an intensity she had never experienced before in her life. She hadn’t left her office in almost a week except for the occasional fast food run or to crawl into her own bed for a few hours of sleep. Even that hadn’t been a guarantee.
She’d spent last night curled up on her office floor with a couple of sweatshirts from the lost and found bin as a makeshift pillow. Several muscles in her neck could attest to it providing a less than ideal sleep. But the long days and nights had paid off. She’d had to go all the way back to the original raw data, but she’d finally located the error. And, surprise, surprise, it was all Dr. Michaels’ fault. The idiot had deleted all the variable names and decided to save a little time by just guessing what they were. He guessed wrong. If Jamie was promoted to Head of Research, the first thing she would do is put Dr. Michaels on a project that even he couldn’t ruin. Like making coffee.
The only thing was, though correcting those mistakes had yielded the desired results, Jamie had uncovered another problem in the process. Temperature measurements from some of the Greenland seas seemed surprisingly low, while others were unusually erratic. It could take months to double check the data, even if she could put every available research assistant on it immediately. It would delay the study’s publication, probably past the point where they could present it at the next global climate summit. And after all that work, there was a chance it might not have a significant impact on the results.
It was the course of action she planned to recommend, but she knew her boss wasn’t going to like it. Jamie squeezed her eyes shut behind her mask. She would think about that later. Right now, all she wanted to do was enjoy a peaceful dive.
There was no sound in the tank aside from the rhythmic rush of air and the bubbling of her breath as she took in oxygen from her tank and let it out into the surrounding water. The ocean tank exhibit was open to the public, and toward the surface she could hear a docent explaining the diving process to a crowd of tourists. It was still the height of the summer season and Jamie knew there must have been at least a hundred people watching from above. There were probably a few hundred more observing from vantage points around the towering glass walls of the tank. But once fully submerged, the environment became peaceful and serene. There were no phones ringing, no tense voices or urgent meetings. Just her and the fish. Heaven.
She gravitated toward the simulated coral reef in the center of the tank. When she neared the glass she could see the flashes of cameras and curious faces peering in, but toward the center it was like she was the only inhabitant of a private, magical world. She watched as a sea turtle passed just inches from her right arm, and a sting ray glided below her left foot. There were eels, and barracuda, and brightly colored reef fishes. A half hour dive in the ocean tank had all the healing properties of a trip to the Bahamas, with none of the expense or jet lag. It was the only thing Jamie had found that could take a bad day and instantly make it right. Well that, or a message from Claire. Yes, Claire had magical properties all her own.
Claire.
Jamie hadn’t had the time to spare more than a fleeting thought of her over the past several days. She’d even turned off the notifications on her Tech Cupid app because the temptation to set aside work and chat with Claire had been so great. The rational part of Jamie's brain knew that she should take advantage of the chance to drift away quietly. It was the kindest option, freeing up both of them to find what they were really looking for. Someone who lived closer. Someone of the preferred gender. But the thought of actually doing it cut her aching heart like a knife. Jamie closed her eyes, letting her body drift gently with the current as she conjured up an image of Claire in her mind. Her laughing smile. Her dark, shining ringlets. Those deep brown eyes with just a hint of gold.
The hard thump of the tank’s glass against her shoulder startled her. Her eyes flew open and she stared out at the sea of tourists beyond the glass. Her gaze landed on one figure in particular. A woman, petite and curvy, walked slowly through the crowd. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail and a few soft ringlets floating near her face, which was obscured in shadow.
Claire? No. Claire was on the opposite end of the country. Jamie’s sleep deprived imagination was working overtime, though, because she was almost convinced that woman walking beside the glass looked exactly like Claire. The same adorably feminine shape. The same cute, messy ponytail she always wore in Jamie’s daydreams. The woman disappeared from view as a dozen kids in matching yellow shirts from a local summer camp edged their way to the front of the crowd. Jamie changed directions with a gentle flip of her fins, trying to catch another glimpse.
The woman reappeared on the opposite side of the tank. Jamie eased her way closer, pretending to examine an outcropping of coral as she floated beside her. Her heart raced as she got a good look at the strang
er. It was Claire. There was no doubt about it. Jamie’s breath caught and she choked against her mouthpiece with a desperate need to cough. Gasping under water was a terrible idea. She could feel her panic growing and experience told her that she needed to get back to the surface as quickly as she could.
Pulling herself out of the water and onto the diving platform, Jamie tugged the mask from her face and gulped the fresh air. Her heart pounded wildly. The diving assistant who helped her out of her equipment gave her a worried look, but Jamie waved away her concern. Bolting down the corridor to the locker room, she shrugged herself out of her wetsuit with one shaking hand while the other hand worked to pull up the Tech Cupid app on her phone. Twelve missed messages from Claire appeared, the last three marked as urgent. Oh God. Jamie scanned them at lightning speed, confirming her suspicions.
Claire was in Boston, alright. She had arrived last night.
What am I going to do? Jamie pulled the last of her clothing on over her damp skin before dashing back to her office. She recognized the sound of her office phone ringing as she turned down the final corridor.
“Hello, Dr. Richards?” It was Burt at the security desk. “I’m not sure, but I think there’s a visitor here for you.”
“You’re not sure?” Jamie repeated in confusion.
“Yes, ma’am. There was a Claire Flores here a few minutes ago asking for some guy named Jay, only she wasn’t sure of his last name and the only person I could think of that’s even close to being a ‘Jay’ was you. Anyway, I sent her over to look at the dive tank while I tried calling you.”
“Yes, thank you, Burt,” Jamie responded through the sudden dryness of her throat. “You know, I think she is looking for me. She must have just gotten confused. I’ll be right there.” Jamie hung up, her brain humming. Claire was in the lobby waiting for her! Jamie’s heart soared. Claire was expecting to meet Jay. Her heart plummeted. Now what?
Telling Lies Online Page 4
