by White, Karey
“I do. And you do too. You just don’t want to hurt my feelings.”
Angus squeezed my hand. “I’m happy for them. As long as you’re okay.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m going to be fine. I’m moving on.”
“And apparently so am I.” Angus was smiling again.
“Yes, you are,” I said.
We moved our hands out of the way as the waitress put plates of ribs and cole slaw and baked beans on the table.
We dished up our plates and started eating. “So you want to elaborate on how we’re moving on?” Angus said between bites of ribs.
I swallowed and wiped my mouth on my napkin. “I’ve decided I need to get out again. I’ve been taking a break since Kyle, and all I’ve done for six months is feel bad and wish we were back together. It’s probably good they’re engaged, because now I know I need to stop wasting my time and I need to move on. I need to have some fun again. So tomorrow I’m going out on my first date in more than six months. With a guy from Scotland.”
Angus’s fork full of cole slaw froze on the way to his mouth.
“His name is Flynn,” I said, “and he seems like a really nice guy. It’ll give me a chance to go out and have some fun without it being a big thing. How serious can it be with a guy who lives halfway around the world, right?”
Angus’s bite of cole slaw finally made it to his mouth and he chewed it slowly. When he swallowed, he spoke. “So... where exactly do I fit into this ‘moving on’ plan of yours?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard me talk about my friend Aleena. I want you to take her out. I think you two might really hit it off. You’re both smart and funny and you’re my best friends. You’re going to love her. And she’ll adore you.”
I took a bite of beans and Angus took a bite of ribs. I wanted to know what he thought of the idea, but every time I thought he might say something, he took another bite of food. After four or five bites, I couldn’t wait any longer. “Will you go out with her?”
Something had changed. Angus was no longer smiling. His mood had become serious, and he was so intent on his food I wondered if he had heard me.
“Angus?”
His eyes met mine. “You really want me to take her out? What did you say her name was?”
“Aleena Li. You’ve heard me talk about her before, right?”
Angus nodded.
“I know you’ll like her. She’s awesome.”
“What makes you think she’ll like me?”
“Don’t be silly. How could she not? You’re the best guy out there. She would be crazy not to fall madly in love with you.” What had happened to Angus’s merry mood? Did he hate setups this much? Was he upset that I wanted to arrange a blind date for him?
Angus didn’t look at me when he spoke. “If you really want me to go out with her, I will.”
“Whew! You had me scared for a minute. I’ve told Aleena all about you, and if you’d have said no I don’t know what I would have told her.”
“Give me her number and I’ll give her a call.”
“Thank you, Angus. Once you get to know her, you’ll be thanking me. I promise. Maybe we could double date sometime. That would be fun.”
“No,” Angus said shaking his head.
“Why not?” His hasty refusal surprised me. He shrugged and took another bite of food, but didn’t answer.
When he finally swallowed, he changed the subject. “So what is this guy like? The tourist?”
I told Angus about how we had met Flynn and his brother at Imperial Palace, and how Aleena had helped them order their lunch. I told him about how Aleena had tracked down his number and how we had made plans to go to Alcatraz. “I’m more excited than I thought I would be,” I said. “He seems like a really nice guy and I could listen to his accent for days. And it’ll be safe. Since he’s only here for about a week, it can just be casual and fun and no pressure.”
As Angus drove me home, I saved Aleena’s number in his phone. “You can come up for a while if you want,” I said when we reached my street. “We could watch a movie or something.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty beat.”
Of course he was. He had been working for twenty-four hours straight and then had come to dinner with me. No wonder he’d been so quiet. His exhaustion had probably caught up with him.
“I understand. Thanks for coming tonight. It was nice to spend some time together. Get a good night’s sleep and text me when you call Aleena. I can’t wait to see what you think of her.”
I leaned across the car and hugged Angus.
“Bye, Charlotte,” he said as I closed the car door. It wasn’t until I was in my apartment that I realized he hadn’t called me a nickname.
I was sitting on a bench outside Pier 33 watching a family from Boston. At least I think they were from Boston. The father and mother were wearing Boston College sweatshirts and their teenage son was in a vintage Larry Bird Celtics jersey. Then they spoke and all doubt about where they were from vanished.
“I wanted to take the night tour,” the son said. “It looks way cooler.”
“The night tour was booked,” said the father.
“We’re lucky we got on a tour at all. And you’d better enjoy this,” said the mom. She handed a granola bar to her son. “These tickets weren’t cheap.”
“Mom, you know I hate those things. They just make me thirsty.” The boy dropped the food in his mother’s bag.
I wished she would offer me the granola bar. I was starving. I had gotten up in plenty of time, but I’d gone through half my closet trying on different outfits. I knew I was acting crazy, but I wanted to be sure my clothes didn’t send the wrong message. Of course I wanted to look nice, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. Coming up with a comfortable, reasonably cute ensemble that didn’t give off an “I’m trying to look good for you” vibe was harder than I had expected. I finally settled on a flowered, coral dress and flat, brown sandals, but by that time, I had sacrificed breakfast.
So here I was, watching a sullen boy turn down a granola bar while my stomach rumbled. I looked at my cell phone. Did I have time to grab a snack before Flynn arrived?
The tall, attractive man that turned the corner, let me know I didn’t have time. What was so appealing about him? He wasn’t conventionally handsome. He certainly didn’t have the movie star politician looks that Kyle has, but there was something about Flynn that grabbed my eyes and wouldn’t let them go and that stirred my curiosity in a way it hadn’t been stirred in some time.
This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. This was just a step on my road to recovery.
I rolled my eyes at my silly melodrama.
Flynn smiled when he saw me and held up a bag in greeting. When he got a little closer, I saw it was from Noah’s bagels. “I brought food.”
“How did you know I was starving?”
“I didn’t. I just knew I was, but I didn’t want to eat in front of ya.”
I slid over and he sat down beside me.
“I’ve got sweet and savory. There’s lox and cream cheese and there’s a honey walnut. You choose.”
“You really don’t care?”
“Ladies first.”
“Or we could split them.”
“Brilliant.”
We each tore a bagel in half. Mine was much more even than Flynn’s. He tried to give me the larger portion of the lox bagel, but I took the smaller half instead.
Passengers were gathering at the gate so we ate our bagels in line. Flynn threw the bag and wrappers into a garbage can by the gate, reached into his shirt pocket for the tickets, and handed them to the man in a black national park vest.
“That hit the spot,” I said after I swallowed my last bite. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Flynn put his hand on the small of my back to guide me onto the boat ahead of him. I shouldn’t have even noticed the gesture, since this wasn’t really a date.
When I think about my seventh grade trip to Alcat
raz, it’s like an old-fashioned movie. In fact, the whole trip is a gray blur. The overcast sky was gray, a gray wind whipped my hair into my eyes and mouth, and the whole island, including the buildings, were various saturations of gray. The only other color I remember from that day is red. Jackson Duncan ran into a wall or a post or something and ended up with a bloody nose. In my memories, I see red blood seeping between Jackson’s gray fingers and dripping on the gray concrete of the Broadway cell block.
Today it was as if San Francisco had painted the world with a box of Prismacolor markers. Every color was bright and bold and clamoring for attention. The sky was having a blue screaming match with the water. Our ferry boat had been freshly painted and was a blinding white with red trim that dared you not to notice it. It looked like the requirement for admission had been bright clothes. Everyone looked like they had dressed in the electric hues of a PBS children’s show. Sorry, you’re in gray or black or olive? That’s not much fun. You’ll have to take the next tour. This tour’s assignment is to look like a box of crayons.
Even Flynn was drenched in color, from his auburn hair, to his blue eyes, to his cinnamon freckles. He wore a periwinkle and navy plaid shirt and jeans. He had shaved since I saw him in Chinatown, and then he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. It was a perfect amount of manliness on his face that was softened by the sunshine. His whiskers glistened a little and made me want to touch them, but I didn’t.
Touching his stubbly chin would have been something you do on a date, and this wasn’t a date. This was an appointment. Like a doctor’s appointment or a job interview. I was here so Flynn wouldn’t have to see Alcatraz alone, so Bruce’s ticket wouldn’t go to waste. I was here to ease myself back into socializing with members of the opposite sex. I was here to keep myself from becoming a sad, weepy hermit.
Aleena was calling Flynn my safe, rebound guy. I wasn’t calling him anything. Except Flynn. And I wasn’t calling this anything. Except not a date.
“What?” I asked when I realized Flynn was watching me. We were standing at the rail on the back of the boat. White foam split the deep blue water as the boat moved. The morning sun felt warm on my face.
“You look a little angry. Is something wrong?”
“I’m not angry. I was just thinking.”
“Angry thoughts?”
I smiled. “No. Not angry thoughts.”
“That’s better.” Flynn nodded toward my smile. “You’re pretty when you smile. You were pretty when you were frowning, too, but this is better.”
I smiled a little wider.
“What were you thinkin’?”
I shook my head. “You don’t want to know.”
Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I want to know?”
I shrugged.
“Ah, so you’re making me guess?”
“I doubt you could guess what I was thinking.”
“Can I try?”
I laughed. “Sure, you can try.”
“And you’ll tell me if I’m right?”
I knew he would never guess what I was thinking, so what was the harm in him trying? “Sure. I’ll tell you if you’re right.”
“Well, you’re frownin’ but you say you’re not angry, so it must be something you’re fretting over. Am I on the right path?”
I shrugged and nodded a little at the same time. “Keep going. This might be very enlightening.”
Flynn kept his expression serious as he looked at me, but it was clear from his eyes that he was smiling. “You said you’ve just been heartbroken and maybe you’re not sure you want to date yet.”
I opened my eyes wide and Flynn bit back his smile.
“And here you are with me. And you’re finding me endlessly fascinating and you’re starting to wonder how you’re going to spend the day with me without falling madly in love.”
A laugh that sounded more like a snort escaped my mouth. Flynn was now grinning.
“How’d I do?” he asked.
“Pretty good. Until you got to the falling in love with you part. I was actually trying to figure out how to make sure you knew this wasn’t a date date. If you know what I mean.”
“You want me to know this is just a date, not a date date?”
“I’m thinking of it more like an appointment instead of a date.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this to him, but we were both smiling, and he didn’t seem the least bit upset. I suddenly felt comfortable and calm. He had practically read my mind and now I didn’t have to worry, because he knew exactly where my head was.
“An appointment, eh? Isn’t that more like a haircut? Or a filling in a tooth?”
I laughed again. “Maybe appointment is a bad choice of words.”
“Let’s just call it a play date. Like kids. That way we can have fun with no worries, and if I feel like it, I can pull your hair—” at this point he tugged on my ponytail “—or wrestle you to the ground.”
Now I raised both eyebrows.
“Ya know. Like kids do when they’re playing.”
“Okay, it’s a play date,” I agreed. “Not an appointment. But wrestling me to the ground is strictly forbidden. And you don’t need to worry. I’m not ready to fall in love with anyone right now. Not even a cute guy with a great accent.”
“Ah, she’s fallin’ already.” He bumped against me with his shoulder and we both smiled as we leaned on the rail and looked back at the silvery city.
We spent more than three hours on the island. We took the audio tour, which didn’t lend itself to easy conversation. It’s hard to talk when you’re both wearing headphones. We did exchange several looks of surprise or revulsion as we listened to the stories.
We stood in front of a cell as we listened to the narration. At the back of the cell was a vent that had been enlarged with spoons. On the bed was the form of a man with his head on the pillow. Three men had escaped through the vents. They had made paper mache heads with hair they had collected from the prison barber. No one had realized they were missing until the next morning, when one of the guards tried to wake up one of the inmates. He reached in the cell and hit the pillow and the paper mache head fell to the floor. They had built a raft with fifty rubber raincoats they had stolen. They were never heard from again.
I turned to advance to the next part of the tour, but Flynn took my arm, just below the elbow. His warm fingers startled me. I turned toward him and saw that he had paused the tour and had moved one side of his headphones off his ear. It sat on his head at an odd angle and I smiled. I paused my recording.
“Do you think they survived?”
“Kind of a cool story if they did. They probably escaped to Scotland and built themselves a little hut.”
“Ya think we live in huts?” Flynn moved his hand and pretended to look hurt. I pretended I hadn’t noticed his touch.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sure you live in a perfectly lovely house. But you’re not an escaped prisoner.”
“Actually there are some huts on the Isle of Lewis. But most people don’t live in ‘em.”
“I hate to think of them drowning out there in the cold water,” I said.
“They risked that when they made their escape. And don’t forget, they were criminals.”
“They were bank robbers, not murderers.”
“Aye. True.” He turned toward the cell. “It’s a good thing it wasn’t me in there. I’d have never fit through that vent.”
“Hopefully you’d have never robbed a bank.” He raised his eyebrows and quirked the corner of his mouth, straightened his headphones, and with the lightest touch to my back—I really needed to stop noticing that—we moved on.
Flynn wanted to look around the gift shop when we finished the tour, which was fine with me. I always spend some time looking over the souvenirs. I rarely buy anything, but it’s good research. I browsed through the postcards while Flynn looked at books. Most of the postcards were old photographs. Alcatraz wasn’t exactly the right tourist stop for the kind of souve
nir materials I usually made.
I was studying a wall map of the island when Flynn came up beside me. I noticed that he left several inches between us.
“What did you find?” I asked, eyeing his bag.
“Books.”
“You like to read?”
“All the time. There are some long, quiet nights in Stornoway. These’ll keep me company.” He held up the bag. “Interesting map?”
“I just like to see what they’re selling.” We started walking toward the door. “I make promotional materials and souvenirs for tourist sites.”
“Ya do?” He stopped just before the door. “Have you made anything for Alcatraz?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve never done anything for a national park. I think they have a team of people who design their souvenirs. I create things for theme parks and little out of the way places.”
“What’re you working on now?”
“Yesterday I was designing key chains, postcards and refrigerator magnets for Adventureland. It’s an amusement park.”
“That’s a great career. You must be artistic.”
The hill leading down to the return ferry was steep. A group of tourists that had just arrived on the island walked by.
I couldn’t remember ever seeing a clearer day. There wasn’t a speck of smog in the air. Everything looked bright and freshly washed. Instead of working hard to break through the San Francisco mists, the hot sun had nothing to burn off and instead focused its heat on us. I was grateful when a little breeze cooled my face.
“What do you do? For your career?”
“We have a little hardware store in Stornoway.”
“We?” For a quick moment I wondered if he had a wife. Wouldn’t that just be perfect if my rebound guy was married?
“My mum and me. It’s all mine now, but mum takes care of it when I’m gone. Mum and Jessie. It was my dad’s store, but when he died, I took it over. Bruce was already gone to school to be an architect, so it made sense.”
“Is Jessie your sister?”
Flynn stopped. “Look at that view. It wasn’t all bad for the prisoners if they got to look at this.”
I looked across the water, trying to see it with the eyes of someone new, someone who hadn’t seen the bay area from almost every angle. It really was beautiful. We quietly looked for a minute before we continued down the hill to the boat.
