ROOM...BUT NOT BORED

by Dawn Atkins

  "Yeah, but I…" She frowned.

  This wasn't going the way Jake had hoped. "This is a shock, right? Take some time to get used to the idea."

  She shook her head and handed him the brochure. "I really can't, Jake. I appreciate it a lot and all, but I want to go to Santa Barbara with my friends. I'll live at home the first couple of years."

  "Live at home? Has the Admiral been breathing down your neck?" Did the man have no restraint?

  "Chill, Jake. I like it at home. Dad's mellowed and I like spending time with Mom."

  "But you wanted to go to Europe."

  She shrugged. "It was just an idea. And maybe I'll go one day. Just not right out of high school."

  It had never occurred to him that she'd react this way. "You can't let them set limits on you. You can do anything you want, be whatever you want, travel the world."

  "I know that, Jake," she said softly, leaning toward him. "Listen, I'm not you. Maybe you want to go to Europe—so go. Stop worrying about me. And, while we're on the subject, give Mom and Dad a chance, too. They're different now.

  "They've changed. So have you, though you don't seem to notice. You act like you still have to sneak out at night or something."

  He took a long drink of strawberry-flavored triple rum. Was she right? Had he locked Penny, his parents, himself into some kind of time capsule? Like that picture on his bureau. He looked at the brochure. Penny had no interest in going to Europe. "I don't get it."

  "Exactly," Penny said. "Let me explain it to you."

  So she told him about his parents and her, and about high school and the kids she knew and her plans to work at the mall next year, and how the Admiral was giving her his prized Mustang when school started.

  The more she talked, the more he realized he'd been blind about a lot of things. There was probably some psychological mumbo-jumbo explanation for it, but he didn't need a therapist to tell him he'd deluded himself.

  Penny stayed for another daiquiri before she left to hang with her friends, but not until she'd extracted a promise that he'd come for Sunday dinner at the folks' house. Really listen to Dad, Jake. He's not the enemy.

  After she left, he took a long swim. A very long swim. And he thought about himself and what he was doing with his life. Was he acting like he was still sixteen and desperate to prove his dad wrong? Did he want more? Like Ariel said? A real job? It was true that sometimes the reasons to avoid a job seemed pointless these days. And seeing Ariel so purposeful and proud of her business had made him think he might be missing something…

  He sure as hell didn't want to own any scuba shop, but he had thought about giving lessons on a regular basis—when he wanted and how he wanted—without depending on Brice. Nothing would stop him from starting a school, or hooking up with a scuba shop to offer lessons.

  He kept thinking over the next two days as he finished painting the outside of the beach house … and while he refinished the wood floors … and while he bought a couple of pieces of furniture, some house plants, a painting and arranged a deal with his construction buds for adding to the sunporch…

  …and when he went to Sunday dinner at his folks and really listened to his father. He went out back to help the Admiral with the pool pump. "Your sister told me what you tried to do," his dad said gruffly, not looking up from the gasket he was scraping. "You go on and live your life your own way. That's what your mother wants for you." Then he cleared his throat, looked up and said softly. "It's what I want for you, too."

  Jake nearly hugged him. He still felt his father's disappointment—ten years of it—but for the first time, he felt his love, too.

  And Jake started talking. About his life, about teaching diving, maybe starting a school or teaching college classes. They stood out there by the pump until Jake's mother yelled at the Admiral to put the steaks on the grill.

  Penny sat there during dinner with a smug look on her face. He hated when she was right.

  And somewhere in there, maybe doing the dishes while his mother teased his father about giving up his Mustang, or during the poker game they all played after, he realized that he wanted to spend his life with Ariel. As much of a pain in the ass as she was, as uptight, overwrought, jittery and driven as she was, she lit up his life, turned on all the circuits.

  He had to let her be who she was—just like he had to let Penny and the Admiral be who they were … and love them anyway. Ariel would be good for him. She'd help him see a little farther than beyond the next wave, which wasn't a bad thing. And he would help her, too, though he'd never change her. He was good for her, too. And now he had to prove it.

  * * *

  Even after she'd practiced her remarks to perfection, refined her addendum to its most incisive, Ariel had three hours to kill before her appointment with Myron Becker. The Empire State Building was just around the block from her hotel, so she decided to check it out, even though she was probably too nervous to enjoy much.

  Ariel made her way through the crowd to the rail at the highest level and looked out over the most amazing city in the world. America's pulse, with all its ambition and passion, desperation and hope, brilliance and beauty—all of it streaming up and down the streets—the veins and arteries of its energetic life.

  She heard urgent talking to her left and looked at a woman about her age turned away from the view talking into a cell phone, her other hand covering her far ear. Ariel heard snatches of conversation—sales figures … inventory … IPO.

  A man wearing a Chicago Bulls baseball cap approached the woman and tugged her arm. "Come on, Jess. You promised this trip you wouldn't."

  The woman smiled at him, held up a finger—just one minute—then turned back to rattle on with her caller.

  With a heavy sigh, the man returned to a telescopic viewer, put money in, and looked out on the city. This kind of thing had happened before to the man, Ariel could tell. She felt sorry for the woman, torn between her work and the man in her life. It was a shame when what people wanted kept them apart.

  Ariel took in as much of the place as she could, slowly circling the observation deck three times. So amazing. She kept wishing Jake were here to share it with her. She pushed away the thought—she had no room for self-pity when she had a career to salvage—and managed to get to AutoWerks twenty minutes early.

  Finally, she was ushered into Myron Becker's office. He started the meeting with a pointed look at his watch and a chill in his voice, but her energy and ideas gradually thawed him out. When she concentrated, Ariel could accomplish anything, she realized. As long as she stayed focused, didn't get distracted by love or insecurity.

  Now, nothing remained but the close. She took a deep breath and began. "So, Myron, as you can see I am prepared to…" Sacrifice my entire life to work. Where had that come from? "I'm ready to commit…" All my joy, all my satisfaction, all my self-worth to making you happy. Suddenly, she flashed on the picture of the woman at the top of the Empire State Building, who'd had all of Manhattan at her feet, the man she loved calling to her, and she'd remained with the cell phone glued to her ear.

  Is that what Ariel wanted? She pictured Jake tugging her out to the sunporch to work in the ocean breeze, taking her for a moonlight swim and scuba diving. That had been important. Good for her. Jake had been good for her. Just the way he was.

  "Yes?" Myron looked at her kindly. "You were saying? You're ready to commit…?"

  "A reasonable amount of time to your business," she finished in a rush. "I work hard, Myron, and it was wrong of me to leave you hanging. But Business Advantage is not my life. If you're not comfortable with that, then maybe you were right to end our relationship."

  He looked at her, shook his head sadly. "You sound like the corporate climate guru we had in here a couple years back. Frequent breaks, generous vacations. Hell, he had us forming a corporate softball team."

  "Maybe he had a point."

  "I appreciate your honesty," he said, but he sounded annoyed. "I'll have to think about this. Let m
e get back to you. How long will you be in town?"

  "Unless you retain me, I'll leave tomorrow morning," she said. She knew what she wanted now—a life that had time for sand castles and moonlight swims. A life with Jake.

  She thought of what her mother had said about her father's fun-loving nature. Maybe he hadn't bought insurance, but he'd put joy in her mother's life. He'd been good for her. Jake had been wrong to dismiss her work, but not wrong to help her enjoy life. She could be like both her parents—fun-loving like her father and sensible like her mother. The point was to stay balanced.

  Thinking of her mother, Ariel decided to talk to her about all this, to remind her how important it was to have fun. At the same time, she realized her mother was happy with her life—the diner was her family—and she loved being there.

  When she reached her room, she found that Myron had already left a message. "I expect a hundred and ten percent from my employees, but that's probably too much to expect from a consultant. If the managers like your proposal tomorrow, we'll use you for the strategic plan. After that, we'll see."

  Ariel had won. Triumph filled her, but she held something back. She knew that even if the managers didn't like her work, she'd be okay. There would be other work. She would manage. She would keep on keeping on.

  Part of her was sorry she had to stay through the week. She wanted to talk to Jake, to work things out with him. She called Brice's place, where Jake was staying, and left him the message that she would be back in five days and wanted to talk. She could only hope he wanted to listen.

  * * *

  The Supershuttle van left Ariel off on the street above the stairs to the beach house. The strategic plan was a go at AutoWerks, though she'd had to accept a flat fee and no retainer.

  She knew she was on her own for sure. She'd called Trudy and learned she and Paul were settling back in London for a while and Trudy had arranged to consult with the new management at the Foster Corporation. Love takes time and work, she'd told Ariel. I didn't build my business overnight. I can't expect any more of my marriage. And, yes, they planned to tie the knot one day. Ariel was so happy for her. And Trudy had had a good laugh about Ariel falling in love with the easygoing handyman.

  Now Ariel stood at the top of the stairs in her suit—the same suit she'd worn when she first arrived—again staring out at the beach, but this time with joy.

  The breeze was soft and the air had a salty tang. Why had she thought the beach smelled of seaweed and dead fish? The sun glinted a glorious silver on the waves and she ached to run straight into the water. She recognized Rickie in his green baseball cap playing Frisbee with Lucky on the beach. Somebody's sand castle had begun to crumble. Two bikini-clad models were playing some kind of paddle game to show off their jiggles for muscle-bound dates.

  She ran down the stairs, tugged off her shoes, then ducked into the dark hollow under the stairs to slip off her panty hose. She emerged, hefted her bag and set off running.

  She loved the ticklish grind and shift of sand under her feet, delighted in the sun on her shoulders. She couldn't wait to see the man she loved. As she got closer, she saw a stack of boards, large plastic buckets and sawhorses beside the house. Jake was still working on the place?

  Lord, how would she put up with his distractibility? She bit her lip. The same way he would put up with her compulsive organizing. They would compromise. They loved each other. And love was compromise.

  Was this the right thing to do? She thought about her dream husband with his solid job and deep understanding of her ambition. And the house in Thousand Oaks and the golden retriever. She closed her eyes and pictured the scene. Except it seemed more like a Hollywood set than any life she could fit into. Then she pictured Jake in his trunks, with sand in his hair, a surfboard under his arm, dripping saltwater and sand in her kitchen forever and ever, and she smiled. Yeah.

  From the porch she caught the blare of rock music. She left her suitcase on the stairs and stepped inside to an amazing sight. The place was perfection. The floors gleamed with new stain. Her desk and shelves were gone from the living room, and Jake had added a gorgeous wallpaper border high on the wall—the one they'd both liked the best, but she couldn't afford. There was a tall ficus tree and an Empress palm, each in a large pot, and a new upholstered armchair. And on the cocktail table was an impossibly beautiful bouquet of tulips.

  She stepped forward, stunned, unable even to call Jake's name. The kitchen wore the pin-striped yellow wallpaper she'd chosen and the table held another vase of tulips. She leaned to touch a red flower's cool, waxy surface. Gorgeous.

  The door to the sunporch opened and Jake stepped inside. "Ariel," he said, his eyes lit with love.

  "You finished everything," she said. "And then some."

  "Yeah. Come look." He held the door open so she could see the porch. It had been transformed into an incredible office. The floor had been expanded, covered in a gleaming flagstone and closed in with Plexiglas, giving a breathtaking ocean view. There was even room for a small sofa and cocktail table.

  "It makes a great office, don't you think?" Jake said. "It's better for you here than in the city," he said. "Though I put your desk at an angle, so you can turn away when you feel too distracted."

  "How could I turn away from this?" she said, indicating the rolling gray water and the white beach that seemed part of the room. Tears blurred her vision. "It's a million-dollar view…"

  "Oh, don't worry about the cost. My friends cut me a deal on the foundation—I bartered some scuba lessons and, since Penny didn't want the Europe trip, I had cash to burn."

  Her eyes flew to his. "You shouldn't have spent your money on me."

  "Who else would I spend it on? I love you, Ariel."

  "Jake," she said, stepping farther into the room, closer to him. She saw that more tulips rested on her desk. "And all the tulips…" Her voice shook.

  He shrugged. "They remind me of you."

  She loved tulips. Way more than roses. How could she forget? She loved how perfectly they curved—strong, but fragile, too, and rare. And they reminded Jake of her.

  She remembered her Mr. Wonderful checklist… He'll know me better than I know myself. Jake had built her the office she needed, not the one she wanted. He'll bring me roses… And he'd brought her even better flowers.

  "They're perfect," she said. "And so are you."

  "I'm not perfect. Far from it. And I'll never have a traditional job. I'm thinking of a scuba school, but who knows. Can you live with that?"

  "Absolutely. I will not turn into that woman on the Empire State Building with her ear glued to her phone, her back to the world."

  "What?"

  "Never mind. Just help me have fun, okay? Until I get the hang of it?"

  "For as long as it takes," he said, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, his lips salty from the sea and warm and full of all the love she knew she'd ever need.

  "I hope it takes forever." Beyond Jake's shoulders she could see the beach and the ocean. She thought about those philosophers' metaphors … the endless sand … the ebb and flow, the rhythm of the waves, smoothing the hard edge of everything.

  This was not the right time to fall in love, but Jake was right. You can't time love. Or plan it. You just fall into it and make it work.

  The only plan she had now was to love Jake, to do her best from day to day. From now on, instead of planning her dream, she'd be living it.

  She hated when Jake was right. Except this once.

  * * * *

 

 

 
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