Wingspan

by Karis Walsh

  “What brings you here?” Bailey asked again. Was Ken here to emphasize her social ineptness with Dani? Or to make her feel unkempt and awkward? Bailey knew she was being foolish. Barring psychic power, the first was impossible, and so was the second—Ken wasn’t cruel. But whatever the reason, Bailey was growing less and less interested in hearing it.

  “I’m not sure if you saw this on the form I filled out when I brought my osprey here, but I work for an architecture firm called Impetus. Long story short, my boss designed Vonda Selbert’s house in Poulsbo,” Ken said. Her sketchbook rested on her lap, but she kept one hand firmly on top as if keeping it closed. “And now she wants my company to work with you and the university on the expansion of your clinic. I’m the architect you’ve been dreading.”

  “What?” Bailey asked. First, an unexpected intern, and now an equally undesirable architect. Well, desirable, maybe. But definitely not welcome. Bailey’s intention of putting off decisions until the dean gave up and went away had backfired in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Now, it seemed all control was being taken away from her. And her dignity, as well. She’d known it was a mistake to share so much with Ken, but she hadn’t realized Ken had been laughing inside while Bailey went on and on about her privacy and what it meant to have strangers overrun her center. Ken had actually made Bailey believe that she cared. “Why didn’t you tell me when the dean called? Did you think it was funny to let me ramble on about not wanting architects here when you knew—”

  “I didn’t know then. I wasn’t given the assignment until Monday. But this is good news,” Ken said. She was frowning, as if she hadn’t expected Bailey to do anything but quietly acquiesce and let other people take over her home, her life. “First, I’m familiar with your clinic, so I’ll be less likely to disturb your birds. Second, since we’re doing this pro bono, there’s more money available for construction. We’ll be able to build a separate annex for the surgery and classrooms, plus two new flight cages. You’ll have your house to yourself, instead of sharing it with birds and interns.”

  They were kicking her out completely. Bailey was speechless. She had spent her life trying to get to this place of solitude, where she was able to help her birds and live in her own way. It was a chaotic life and often a lonely one, but it suited her. Now, Ken was planning to design her right out of her center. The new annex would be filled with interns and students. There wouldn’t be room left for her.

  “I made up a few plans earlier this week,” Ken said. She opened the sketch pad and Bailey tried to concentrate on the heavily penciled lines that intersected the soft blue grid pattern of the paper.

  “You already…” Bailey frowned. Aside from two visits here, Ken didn’t know the first thing about bird rehabilitation. During the osprey’s procedure, she had done what Bailey asked her to do. Now Ken was taking the initiative and making plans behind Bailey’s back. She took the pad off Ken’s lap and stared at the rooms. Empty spaces that would be filled with the university’s equipment and students. With other people.

  “You drew a square,” she said, flipping the pad closed and handing it back to Ken. “I don’t see why they needed to send an architect to my house when I could have done that on my own.”

  Ken caught the pad before it slid off her lap. Bailey’s comment left her feeling physically bruised. She had been trying to maintain a pleasant expression since Bailey was essentially a client, but she felt it shift once more into a frown. The only reason she didn’t storm away and let Bailey design her own fucking building was because she had no option but to agree with Bailey, damn it. Ken had been searching for inspiration for four days, since she had been given this assignment. She had sat on the ferry and stared at the seagulls, had sat on her property and searched the sky for another osprey, had tried her best to come up with an idea that was more useful and attractive than a box with separate but uniform spaces for an examination room, a classroom, a laundry room…Ken hadn’t been any more successful in her meetings with Dougie and the rest of their team. She was beginning to believe the evidence in front of her. She couldn’t design anything more interesting than a box. Bailey’s words hurt because they collided against the places where Ken had been beating on herself all week.

  Ken rubbed a hand over her eyes. The only thing she had been sure of this week was how much she loved going back to her property every night after work. There was nothing on the lot except a chair she used either on the bluff or in the natural arbor at the edge of the woods. She’d sit there, battling with the wind for control of her drawing paper, until the sun had dropped below the horizon and the world was lit only by its memory. Then, only because she had no choice, she’d pack her supplies in the car and drive back to her small apartment. She thought she’d miss her active social life and the busyness of the city, but she felt only relief at being away. No observers, no danger of not fitting in or being the person she was expected to be. Every mask slipped away as she sat on her bluff. At the moment, Bailey—the one person who had seemed to truly understand what a person would sacrifice for a sense of place, of belonging—was the main obstacle in her path to building a permanent home there.

  “Okay, you’re the expert here. Why don’t you tell me how you want the annex to look?” A more polite phrasing than let’s see you draw something better, know-it-all. She opened the sketch pad to a clean page and sat with her pen poised above the empty paper.

  Bailey paused, her forehead scrunched as if she was searching for what to say. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a dismissive gesture. “I can’t think of anything besides a big square, either. I don’t even want the damned annex.”

  Ken frowned again. She was going to need Botox injections when she finally finished this project. “So you’d prefer to go with the original plan of building an addition on the house?”

  “No.” Bailey sat still for a moment, and then the words sort of exploded out of her in a forceful whisper, as if she had been bottling them up too long. “What I’d prefer is to have you and the dean and that blasted intern go away and leave me alone.”

  Ken was worried Bailey might add tears to her outburst, so she hastily started to sketch. Bailey was angry with the dean, with the university, just as she had been last week. Ken pushed aside her own fears and awkwardness over the assignment and focused on calming Bailey and dissipating her helpless fury. Comforting Bailey by talking about her own life was a weakness, and it had drained Ken, but she had other resources. She tugged on a distant memory of castles she and Steve had drawn. “Hey, I can work with that. I’m picturing a moat around the house. Maybe a crenellated roof so you’re protected while you shoot at intruders through the notches…” She heard Bailey’s muffled laughter, but she kept drawing as she outlined Bailey’s house and outfitted it for battle. “We can design some sort of pulley system with a basket, so people can deposit birds and you can tow them across the moat without having to actually talk to anyone.”

  Bailey tapped on the picture of her roof with her index finger. Ken wanted to grab hold of her hand and squeeze, but it was only because she felt a sense of relief as the tension between them eased.

  “Can we put one of those catapult-things up here?”

  “Good idea,” Ken said with a solemn nod as she drew. “It’ll be an effective defense against interns with battering rams.”

  Bailey grinned when Ken ripped the drawing out of her book and handed it over. “Thank you,” she said. “I like this much better than the square you originally drew.”

  “So do I,” Ken admitted. She slowly screwed the cap onto her pen. She wanted to keep the truce between her and Bailey, but she had an obligation to fulfill. Her first loyalty was to Impetus and Joe, not to Bailey, but she needed to play both sides if she wanted to keep everyone happy. And for some reason—even beyond her house and her job—Ken wanted to keep the smile and lightness on Bailey’s face. “I thought you were working with the vet school. I didn’t realize this was a hostile takeover.”

  Bailey shrugge
d and leaned back in her chair. She stared at the sketch Ken had made, with its battlements on the roof and snapping crocodiles in the moat. She had been opposed when she first thought Ken wanted to draw the osprey, but now she was reconsidering. Ken was clearly talented, and Bailey would love some sketches of the different birds in her care for her room. On second thought, she didn’t need more reminders of Ken in her bedroom. Bailey was already growing too skilled at picturing her there, and Ken’s ability to make her laugh and to reorient her when she was stressed was making her even more appealing. If Bailey didn’t get herself together, she was going to fall apart when Ken eventually walked away.

  “I suppose I agreed to it somewhere along the way,” she said. But only because she hadn’t realized how much the intrusion would affect her. She had been concerned about her patients being disturbed, but she was the one who seemed most upset by the changes. “I really do want to help as many raptors as I can, but I’d rather Vonda had donated money or equipment directly to me. I don’t want the students and the interns and the researchers moving in with me.”

  Tread carefully, Ken warned herself. She saw the flaw in Bailey’s logic, but it wasn’t her home that was being invaded. “That’s why I’m here to design the new building. You’ll have your home to yourself, with all the privacy you want.”

  “It’s almost feeding time,” Bailey said. She stood up, and Ken did the same, uncertain what had precipitated the change in subject and obvious end to their conversation.

  “It is?” Dani asked from the doorway. “I finished the laundry and half the ledger entries. Can I help you feed?”

  “No,” Bailey said abruptly. “I mean, I was hoping you could go to the post office in Sequim for me. I have a package of crickets there, and it needs to be picked up today.”

  “The adventure never ends,” Ken said with a wink as Dani dug her car keys out of her backpack.

  “Are you going to let her do anything significant while she’s working for you, or is she going to be an errand girl all summer?” Ken asked once Dani had left the house. Bailey frowned at her.

  “She’s supposed to be making my life easier. It’s easier if I don’t have to go to the post office.”

  “Huh. I thought interns were supposed to be learning.” My God, shut up! Ken was losing what little accord she had gained with Bailey, but she couldn’t understand why Bailey was being so pigheaded about everything associated with WSU. And Ken couldn’t understand why she—instead of smiling and nodding along with Bailey’s insanity—was continuing to aggravate the situation.

  “I didn’t want her here, so save your lectures.”

  Ken held up her hands in surrender. “I can tell you don’t want her here. But she is here, so why not take advantage of it? You’ll have someone to help you take care of all these birds, and she’ll gain valuable experience by shadowing you. Everybody wins.”

  Bailey shook her head. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to train someone to do this job? And what if she makes a mistake? She could do serious damage if she’s careless with one of my birds.”

  “I thought they weren’t your birds,” Ken said before she could stop herself. Bailey and Dani’s relationship wasn’t any of her business, but she saw how tired Bailey looked, and she could only guess how difficult it was for her to feed and treat and clean up after her patients. If she hadn’t stuck around to help with the osprey, she didn’t know how Bailey would have managed to do the whole procedure on her own.

  “They’re not. But they’re my responsibility. I can’t let just anyone in here to mess up my system. To change things. And now you’re here, too, trying to tell me what to do.”

  “Look, Bailey, I didn’t ask to be assigned to this project, but I’m here now,” Ken said. Might as well be honest about it since obviously neither she nor Bailey was happy with the situation. She had tried to connect with Bailey without resorting to personal confessions, but she didn’t see any other way to salvage the project. “My job depends on this annex of yours. I didn’t want the assignment, and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to do it well, but if I fail, I’ll be let go. And without Impetus, I won’t be able to build my house. I need to do a good job to impress my new boss, and you want things done your way. Why don’t we work with each other instead of fighting against each other?”

  “What do you propose?” Bailey asked, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked as bound as if she were wearing a straitjacket, and Ken lowered the tone of her voice.

  “Let me tag along with you this weekend so I can see what you do day-to-day. I won’t interfere or touch anything,” she said when Bailey opened her mouth as if she was about to protest. “Together, we can come up with a design for the annex. So it works well for you and your raptors. If the university is giving you money, why not use it the way you want?”

  “I guess we can try…”

  “Good,” Ken said. Part of her job was pleasing temperamental clients, and she had often needed to compromise and bear with indecision or obstinacy. Bailey was being stubborn about this annex, and Ken’s job depended on making her happy. It should have been as simple as finding out what Bailey wanted her building to look like, but Ken was getting too interested in the whys behind Bailey’s genuine reluctance to have WSU help her expand the center. “I’ll be back Saturday morning.”

  Bailey watched out her kitchen window as the clouds of dust from Dani’s and Ken’s departures settled, and then she sat at the table and rested her head on her crossed arms. She needed to calm her thoughts before handling her patients. After spending most of her time alone with only birds for company, she was overwhelmed by the activity of the day. Ken, Dani. Demanding time and compromise from her.

  Ken confused her in too many ways. She was damned attractive, which was disconcerting enough, but she was an enticing enigma besides. She appeared as straitlaced and conventional in dress and bearing as the popular kids in school. As boring and bland as the square annex she had designed. But there were hints of depth beyond the unruffled calm of her surface, in the whimsical drawing she had made for Bailey and the brief expression of hurt when Bailey thoughtlessly criticized her original sketch. She sat up and frowned. She had been so focused on the disruptions in her own life, she had been unintentionally rude to Ken. She’d need to apologize for her remark, even though she really hadn’t been impressed by the design. Ken obviously had talent reaching far beyond the uninspired plan, but Ken’s abilities as an architect were only of interest to Bailey for as long as it took to design and build the annex.

  Bailey had been reluctant to have a stranger, some unknown architect, traipsing around her property and designing her future. Ken would be more respectful, and she seemed interested in staying true to Bailey’s vision without imposing her own. Why, then, was Bailey so much more disturbed to have Ken assigned to her project? Ken was right, the expansion was going to happen—Bailey herself had helped set the process in motion—so Bailey might as well make the best of it and work with Ken to create a safe refuge for her birds, no matter how much Bailey worried about the prospect.

  She’d try to cooperate with Ken for the sake of her raptors. And she’d try to ignore her physical attraction to Ken for the sake of her own sanity. Bailey couldn’t even look at her without imagining her naked, stripped bare so her elaborate tattoos were available for Bailey to explore and trace with her fingers, with her lips. Bailey rubbed her eyes. She had given up the search for something permanent and had settled for occasional and temporary connections. No one seemed to understand her passion for rescuing birds, let alone share it. Bailey had learned that lesson early in life and had faced it again every time she took a chance on dating. Even women less image-conscious than Ken seemed to be soon tired of her lack of interest in how she looked and the weird things she kept in her fridge, let alone the missed dates and her girlfriends’ second-place priority in her life. Ken was like the osprey. She added a touch of rugged beauty and elegance to Bailey’s house, but her stay was only tem
porary.

  Still, she and Ken seemed destined to be partners for a short time. Bailey had to protect herself so she wouldn’t be disappointed when Ken inevitably flew away. Easy enough, because although Ken was gorgeous, she was also pushy, criticizing the way Bailey treated Dani, even though Ken had no idea how difficult it would be to properly train an assistant and oversee her every move, only to have her leave at the end of summer.

  Yes, Ken had overstepped when she lectured Bailey on her intern. Dani hadn’t seemed to mind the work, and she willingly had done the menial tasks Bailey had given her. Bailey looked around the kitchen. Dani had not only cleaned the bowl they’d used for the owlet, but she had washed the dishes Bailey had left in the sink after breakfast. Freshly washed towels and blankets were folded neatly and stacked on the counter, and Bailey’s notebooks were just as tidily arranged on the kitchen table.

  She got up with a sigh, stretching her back in a deep arch before she walked over to the fridge and started pulling out bags and pouches. For a brief moment, Ken had opened up to her. Admitted her concerns about her abilities and how important the project was to her. She was struggling through changes and self-doubt and the need to sacrifice for something she’d made a priority. Just like Bailey was, as she let the university into her life, inch by inch. And just like Dani, as she faced Bailey’s unwelcoming attitude with a cheery smile and a clear devotion to hard work. Bailey set out a line of bowls and plates. She’d get the meals ready for her charges, but she’d wait until Dani got back and let her help feed.

  Chapter Nine

  Ken sat at her massive steel and black laminate desk and unpacked her messenger bag. A laptop, several notepads, her favorite pens, a small plastic box with compartments for paper clips and sticky notes. She sat in her ergonomically designed chair and swiveled around, checking out the rest of the office. Her desk was the most impersonal, and she took everything with her when she left at night as if she never really believed she’d come back the next day. Everyone else appeared settled in place, at desks as different as the people sitting at them. Action figures and photos and interactive toys like Rubik’s Cubes and Kohs blocks were as commonplace as in-boxes and vertical filing cubbies. Each employee had a personal desk in the huge open-plan office space, but most of them—besides Ken—spent hours of the workday in the public spaces, at the upright drafting tables near the windows or holding impromptu brainstorming sessions at the tables near the kitchen area. Nerdvana. Perfectly acceptable here, but how would these people function in real life? How would they manage to navigate the streets of Seattle without getting beaten up or having their lunch money stolen? This environment might work for them, but it didn’t work for her. Too risky. Too different. She longed to be back in her tiny, utilitarian office at her old firm.