A Life That Fits

by Heather Wardell

  "No refunds," the worker said.

  "I don't care." She managed to free herself. "It's crazy. I'm not going up there."

  I looked up at the people rising closer to the top of the arch. The whole concept terrified me, and the wait had been hard on me too, but I wanted to feel that fear, feel myself poised in mid-air then launched into flight. I wanted to be that brave.

  Debbie said, "Come on, let's go."

  I dragged my eyes back down from the heavens. "No. I'm doing it."

  "By yourself? You're nuts."

  She walked away, and I took a long deep breath. By myself. Up there all alone.

  I nearly bailed out too, but took only one step forward before I made myself stop. I raised my chin and willed myself to stop shaking. I could do this.

  My eyes met Loren's, and he gave me a small smile. Then he said, "Want company?"

  "You said you'd already done it," Debbie whined, and I realized she might not have changed her mind if she'd been expecting to have Loren in the fabric cradle with her instead of me.

  "I have, so I know it's more fun with someone else." He raised his eyebrows at me. "Solo or not?"

  The group before me had reached the top, and we all turned to watch them plummet from the sky, shrieking so loudly I couldn't imagine where they found the breath. They reached the lowest point, which the worker had said was a safe six feet from the ground, then catapulted back up again.

  I turned back to Loren. "Not. If I'm going to die, I'd rather have company."

  He smiled and joined me in the line. The worker didn't look impressed, but Loren had obviously done the ride more than once because he was in his harness well before the previous group was lowered the last few feet to the ground.

  They were unstrapped and weaved their way to the exit, giggling weakly, then Loren moved forward. I would have but my feet had apparently been nailed to the floor.

  He turned back. "Last one in's a rotten egg."

  "I'm fine with that."

  He chuckled. "Get over here."

  I had to lift my feet extra-high to make them move but I did manage to go forward and join him and the worker on the starting platform.

  We were quickly strapped in and I took deep breaths and tried to relax. It wasn't just the anticipation of the ride freaking me out, though: lying beside Loren, with my left side glued to his right by the fabric cradle, felt amazing and weird at once. The most contact I'd had with a man in a long time. He didn't seem uncomfortable with it, which helped.

  After a repeat of the instructions he'd already given us, reminding us not to drop anything or spit down on the crowd, the worker said, "Look up here, between you." I did, to see a red handle. "Once you're at the top, I'll tell you it's time. You have five seconds to pull the handle or I pull it for you from down here. Got it?"

  I'd be falling either way. "Got it."

  Loren did too, so the worker left the platform. Seconds later, we jerked upward. I gasped, and Loren said, with a smile in his voice, "If that bothers you you're in trouble."

  "Nah, it just startled me," I said vaguely, watching with fascination as the ground moved away from me. I looked around, examining everything from my new and ever-changing vantage point, and found myself imagining that once I dropped everything would be different. I would leave the old Andrea, the one who'd been tied to Alex, at the top, and the new me would clamber out of the fabric cradle at the end and never be the same. I liked the idea.

  "Andrea! You okay?"

  Loren's urgency surprised me and I turned to him. "Fine. Why?"

  He smiled, his relief clear. "I was talking to you and you didn't answer. I was afraid you'd gone into a coma or something."

  I smiled back. His face was so close to mine. With a little wriggling closer, we could have kissed. Geez, those eyes. "No, I'm good. Just looking around. What were you saying?"

  "Are you pulling the handle or am I?"

  If I wanted to become new Andrea, I'd have to take control. "I am."

  "Good for you. Amazing view from up here, eh?"

  I nodded, then gasped again as we snapped to a stop, swaying high above the park.

  "Pull the handle," came the worker's voice from a loudspeaker somewhere in the cradle.

  I froze.

  Loren gave me a second then caught my shoulder. "You want to do this, right?"

  I nodded because I couldn't speak.

  His grip tightened. "Then reach up and pull the handle. It's up to you."

  I looked into those gorgeous eyes, full of both amusement and support, and it was easy. I raised my hand and set us free.

  We swooped toward the ground at an unbelievable speed, and though I'd been assured it couldn't happen I was terrified we'd smash face-first into the concrete. At first I was too shocked to breathe, not to mention that I felt like I'd left both my lungs and my stomach at the top along with old Andrea, but then I grabbed the edge of the cradle with both hands and sucked in a full breath and screamed like I'd never screamed before.

  Loren yelled, "Woo!" instead, but I couldn't do anything but shriek. The feel of it! We swung up away from the ground, then back down toward it again, and I laughed and screamed and commanded Loren to stop laughing at me and when we finally reached the end I was exhausted, with tears of laughter and a few of pain pouring down my face.

  I wiped my eyes, giggling weakly just like the previous group. Had they also felt like they were becoming someone new, leaving their old fears behind? I hoped so, for their sakes, because I'd never felt so free.

  We hung over the platform as the worker approached, and Loren murmured, "You okay?"

  I turned toward him and smiled. "You know what? I am."

  *****

  Once we'd been unstrapped and returned to the group, Debbie said, "Man, I wish I'd gone. Was it fun?"

  Wendy laughed. "Didn't sound like it. I bet half the park could hear her shrieking."

  "I certainly did." Loren cupped a hand over his ears as if in pain.

  "It was fun, actually. It was amazing. But I couldn't keep quiet." I smiled at Loren. "Besides, you were yelling too."

  "Pardon?"

  "I said," I began, then realized he was teasing and poked his arm. "I said you're a jerk."

  "What?"

  I gave him a mock glare and drew my finger across my throat.

  "I heard that."

  I laughed, and he grinned. "Where to now?"

  "Somewhere I can sit and relax? Or else a nice peaceful ride?"

  "I know just the thing." He turned to the others. "Ready to move on?"

  We trooped off. Debbie still looked mad at herself and annoyed that nobody was suggesting they go with her, and I was so glad I hadn't chickened out. My body was still lit up with the amazing energy of the free fall, and I knew I'd never forget it.

  When Loren said, "Here we are," I stared up at the huge roller coaster. "Here? Isn't this the stand-up one?"

  He was clearly trying to look confused and surprised but the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Didn't you say you wanted to go stand somewhere to relax? I swear that's what I heard. Must be something wrong with my ears."

  I tried to glare at him but my mouth wanted to smile too so my fake anger was about as successful as his feigned innocence. "Oh, yeah, that's totally what I said."

  "I love this one," Wendy said. "C'mon, Jay, let's get the front and leave the rest of the train to these losers."

  They set off. As we all followed I knew she was deliberately putting me with Loren, and I couldn't say I minded.

  We rode the stand-up coaster together, twice, and from then on we were together for every ride. At first we were pretty quiet in the lines, since I for one felt shy and he didn't seem much better, but then we began chatting. After a bit of small talk about the gorgeous weather and our experiences on the bungee ride, he said, "What made you leave your previous job?"

  I sighed, and he said, "Oh, sorry. Never mind."

  "No, it's okay. I... I had a rough breakup a few months ago, and I gue
ss I didn't have all my attention on work. My coworker basically convinced my bosses I was unstable and convinced me the bosses didn't appreciate me enough, so I quit. Are you okay?"

  As I'd talked his face had gone first white then red.

  "I'm fine. Sorry, it's just-- you said a breakup?"

  I nodded.

  "How long were you together?"

  "Half my life. Fourteen years."

  I expected the usual freaking out, but I didn't get it. Instead, he gave me a sad smile and said, "Sucks when things don't go the way you expect, doesn't it?"

  Despite all the crying I'd done the week before, and the additional tears I'd shed on the bungee ride, my throat tightened. "It does."

  He reached out and covered my hand, resting on the railing dividing the lines, with his. I'd barely registered the warmth of his skin, though, when he moved away again. "What do you want to ride next?"

  We talked about the various options, but I could feel my hand tingling where his had been. Though it hadn't been anywhere close to the seven years Tina had claimed I'd need, and I couldn't imagine being in a new relationship, I was finding myself increasingly attracted to Loren. His touch suggested maybe he felt the same way, but his quick ending of that touch made me think he might also share my conflict about a relationship.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of rides and laughter, with no more touching but lots of chat and jokes between us and among the others too. We all stayed at Wonderland until it closed at ten o'clock, then joined the crowd streaming out into the parking lot. Everyone had come in separate cars, so we exchanged goodbyes and drove away. I'd thought maybe Loren would make some sort of excuse to hang out with me afterwards, or send me a text or something over the weekend, but he was the first out of the lot and I didn't hear from him once.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wendy really did me a favor with that Wonderland trip. After a day of laughing and joking we were all so comfortable with each other on Monday. Jay teased me about my screaming on the bungee ride and I pretended to be offended, and Lisa and Debbie invited Wendy and me to join them for lunch for the first time. I still didn't like my work much, but I did like my coworkers.

  Loren was his normal friendly self, with nothing in his demeanor to suggest we'd had any connection on the weekend. But I knew we had, and I felt sure he knew it too. He clearly wasn't interested in pursuing anything, though, and since I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be pursued I definitely wasn't going to be the aggressor, so it was probably good he wasn't acknowledging what had passed between us. I tried to convince myself of that but couldn't quite do it.

  What I could do, though, was pursue the work I wanted. I wouldn't be returning to DataSource, and frankly the more I got to know my new coworkers the less I wanted to, so I decided instead to try to bring a little of my DataSource work to the new job.

  Loren was the main obstacle for that, since he owned a lot of the work I wanted to do. Dana had made it clear that he was the boss when it came to work distribution, so I waited until he complimented me on a finished project then said, "I'm glad you like it. Can I talk to you about something?"

  He tensed, and I realized he might be thinking I wanted to discuss our relationship, if what we had deserved that term. I felt my cheeks grow warm but did my best not to look like I had any idea of what he might be thinking. "It's about the work distribution."

  He cleared his throat and relaxed. "Okay. What about it?"

  "I know you're doing most of the analysis work now, and I don't want to step on your toes, but if you're willing I'd love to take on more of that side."

  He studied me with those gorgeous eyes. I'd pretty much decided they weren't contacts, although it was still hard to believe. "I like the analysis stuff too, but--"

  "Oh, then don't worry about it."

  He blinked. "Can I finish my sentence?"

  My cheeks flamed again but I tried to make light of it. "I suppose, if you really want to."

  He smiled at me. "I was going to say that I'm less into the final stages, writing up the conclusions and all that. I like the earlier work more. Could we negotiate a split?"

  He wanted to give up the part I liked the most. "Oh, I think so."

  We examined each of the current projects, deciding who'd handle which part, and when we were both pleased he said, "Let's see if Dana's available."

  "You think she'll say no?"

  He shook his head. "As long as we get the work done I doubt she'll care who does what. But I think it's worth letting her know."

  We did, and as anticipated she said, "Miss any deadlines and I'll have both your heads, but otherwise I don't like to bother with the little details."

  "Is that all we are to you?"

  She smiled at Loren. "You don't want me to answer that."

  We all laughed and Loren and I headed back. Partway to our cubicles he said, "How long have you wanted to do different work?"

  "What day did I start here again?"

  He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I didn't want to be a pain. At least not at the beginning."

  He smiled. "But now you don't mind?"

  I chuckled. "I guess not."

  "Good. And you're nowhere close to a pain anyhow."

  Our eyes met, then he ducked his head and went into his cubicle, leaving me in the hallway looking after him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I took the subway home after bellydance and musical theater on Friday night, at the end of by far the best week I'd had since Alex left me, feeling so happy and peaceful.

  My new tasks at work were much more satisfying, and spending lots of time with Loren as we coordinated passing the projects back and forth made my days even better. He was smart and charming, as well as cute, and I was definitely feeling a connection with him. Even his bolting right at lunch time and immediately after work didn't bug me any more since I'd realized he was doing tons of work at home every night.

  The rest of the job was great too. Dana took me out for lunch on Tuesday, part of what she laughingly called her monthly 'hang out with the little people', and I enjoyed getting to know her better and having her tell me how well I was doing. Jay now treated me pretty much as a little sister, and since I hadn't seen my brother, who now lived in Sweden, for years it was surprisingly nice to be picked on again.

  Outside of the office, my life was incredibly rich. Wendy and I were getting to be great friends, which I loved. We'd been out together for dinner and to a movie, and spent ages at my place playing with Harrison, and we'd had plans to hang out on the weekend until Dana had sent her to New York to help a new and very high-value client figure out what data he needed to gather.

  My crochet group was steadily more popular, and I'd now finished a hat and mittens to go with my winter scarf and was working away on a bed for Harrison. My bellydance classes were going well too; Nadia had videotaped us that night and though I'd never be an above-average dancer I'd been surprised to see how flowing some of my movements had become. So much better than at the beginning.

  Musical theater, though, was absolutely the highlight of my new life. George was constantly raving, to anyone who would listen and a few who gave mock agonized screams and covered their ears when he approached yet again, about how well I was playing and how glad he was he'd found me. We worked so well together, each letting the other shine when that was appropriate then stepping up and playing out when our part was the most important, and David was clearly delighted with both of us.

  And I was delighted to be there. I'd never been involved in something like that before, so many people working together to make the show a success, and I loved that my one small piece was making a difference. The bond between us all was already strong and growing stronger daily, and even though some of them were frankly a little too artsy and ethereal for my taste we were united by what we were trying to achieve.

  After the barely fifteen minutes I spent underground on the subway, I had three new text messages when
I returned to ground level. Ellen, telling me the yarn I'd ordered had come in and letting me know I had two new ladies coming to next Wednesday's crochet group. Wendy, reporting that her hotel room in New York was smaller than her work cubicle but that she already loved the city. The show's costumer, thanking me for the fake fur I'd found at a thrift shop last week and begging me to keep my eyes open for more.

  I was connected now. I belonged. So much better than when I'd been with, belonged to--

  If I hadn't thought that, maybe he wouldn't have been there. But as I turned the corner toward my apartment building I saw a tall blond guy leaning against the stair rail and every cell of my body flinched at once. I briefly considered fleeing, but he'd seen me and was moving toward me.

  "Andrea."

  I raised my chin and didn't speak. I had nothing to say to him.

  He'd obviously expected me to find something, because confusion flickered in his eyes before he said, "I've missed you."

  "I doubt it."

  "I have," he said, low and passionate.

  The oh-so-familiar sound of his voice set my insides quivering but I struggled to hide it. I couldn't let him know he was affecting me so much. I didn't trust myself to speak, though, and had no idea what to say anyhow, so I shook my head.

  "Andrea, come on. We were together for fourteen years, of course I've--"

  "You've what?" Finding words was no longer the problem. Keeping them from tumbling over each other was. "Been so miserable you had to date every woman you laid eyes on?"

  He stepped back, clearly shocked. "How..."

  "How what?" I said, as innocently as I could. I wanted to make him say it.

  He did, reluctantly. "How did you know?"

  "I met Elaine. You know Elaine, of course, good friend of Kelly. Your soulmate, who you dumped in less time than a tub of yogurt takes to go bad. And then there was Annie and a whole bunch of other women whose names I've forgotten. All of whom you dated after me. You were a busy boy, weren't you?"

  I expected him to defend himself, to bluster, maybe even to somehow try to pin it on me. What I didn't expect was for him to sigh and say, "You're right. I was an ass."