by Karey White
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Blake said. He turned off the phone, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. He put it in the tray between the seats then massaged the bridge of his nose.
Lydia didn’t interrupt his thoughts, and finally he said, “I may have blown any chance at partner.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ll get everything straightened out.”
Blake shook his head. “They’re not too happy with me right now.”
“They will be once you’re home and you make the sale,” Lydia said. Blake chuckled and smiled. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”
“Mr. Van Wagoner would be very offended if he knew you thought of him as a salesman.”
“Then I’m glad he didn’t hear me. I suppose if I’m going to give you a pep talk, I guess I should know a little more what I’m talking about.”
“What you said was perfect. Seriously.”
The rest of the drive to Boone was mostly quiet. Lydia even dozed off for a little while at the end, which gave Blake time to think. How was he supposed to follow Grandpa’s advice when people like Mr. Van Wagoner had his future in their hands? Blake wondered if Pryce had put in eighty hour weeks when he’d started his career. He probably had. Maybe that explained the two ex-Mrs. Van Wagoners.
Francie must have been waiting for them just inside the door because she answered before they were even through knocking. “Please, come in.”
“I could tell these were really important to you, so I want you to have them,” Blake said when they were inside the front door. “Thank you for letting me take them.”
“But your grandfather wanted you to have them. Of course I want them back, but I don’t know if I feel right taking them when he and Grandma had already made arrangements.”
“Grandpa wanted me to know what was in them, and I do now. He’d be fine with me giving them back to you. There is one thing, though.”
“What’s that?” Francie looked suspicious.
“If you don’t mind, I’d really love to have the Celtics tickets. Grandpa was a huge Celtics fan, and he took my Dad to see them whenever they played the Nuggets. I know it would mean a lot to my dad to have those.”
“Oh, of course.” Francie placed the box on the entryway table and searched through the contents until she had them. “Are you sure there’s nothing else in here you want? Maybe one of the letters?”
“I have a letter he wrote to me before he died and copies of these. That’s all I need. Thank you again for letting me take them.”
“Thank you for bringing them back.” Francie patted her heart. “I’m very grateful.”
Blake felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He spent so much of his time with tasks that held little reward. But this—this felt right.
“We’d better hurry,” he said when they were back in the car. “I really can’t miss this flight.”
The drive to the airport and the wait by the gate was pleasant enough, but Blake seemed preoccupied. Lydia wondered if he regretted returning the letters to Francie or if it was the impending problems he had to deal with at work. Whatever it was, he seemed further away.
“Are you as tired as I am?” he asked when they were sitting beside each other on the plane.
“I’m pretty tired,” Lydia answered. She wondered if this was Blake’s way to politely go to sleep and eliminate the need for conversation.
It had seemed like they had a real connection the past few days, and Lydia hoped they’d see each other when they got back to Denver. She’d joked with Cambri about having a little summer fling. Could she count this as her fling when she reported back? It didn’t feel like a fling. It felt like much more and much less than a fling. More because it didn’t feel flingy. It felt real and special and important. Hadn’t they shared more than they would have if it were just a fling? But sadly, it was also less than a fling. They hadn’t held hands. Not really. And they hadn’t kissed. Could a summer fling really be a fling without a kiss? And could she think the word “fling” one more time and still take herself seriously?
Maybe when they reached Denver, she should take this little bit of bravery she’d shown over the last few days, multiply it by a thousand, and fling her arms around his neck and give him a kiss he wouldn’t forget. At least then she could technically count this as a real summer romance.
She sighed.
“You okay?” Blake asked.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“You can sleep on my shoulder if it’s more comfortable.”
It was such a sweet gesture that of course she had to take him up on the offer. You don’t have a man who looks like Blake offer his shoulder and say no. “Thanks. I think I will.” She shifted in her seat and leaned her head against his shoulder, but there was nowhere to put her arm. If she put it on the armrest, it put her at an awkward angle. If she put it right by her side, it was wedged between her body and the armrest, and it was painful.
“Here.” Blake took her arm and looped it through his. Her hand now rested on his arm. His other hand rested on hers. “Better?”
“Much better.” Please don’t let this be just a fling.
Even though she was tired, Lydia was sure she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Not with Blake’s hand sending shivers up her arm. Not with her cheek resting on his warm, strong shoulder.
And then she woke up. She lifted her head and looked around. The cabin was dark except for a few lights where passengers must have been reading.
“We’ll be landing in about ten minutes,” Blake said. Lydia was too embarrassed to snuggle back into his shoulder, so she leaned her head back on the seat, glad her arm was still linked through his.
“Did you sleep at all?” she asked softly.
“A little.”
They sat in silence after that. Lydia tried to give herself a motivational speech. Really brave girls aren’t afraid to initiate a kiss. Just stand on your tiptoes and kiss him. Or maybe it would be more romantic to put her hand behind his neck and pull him down to her. A kiss would be the perfect ending to the last three days, and it would definitely salvage her lamentable summer. And maybe, if it was a really good kiss, it wouldn’t be an ending at all. Maybe it would be the beginning…
Don’t go there. Just think about the kiss.
The plane landed and the lights came on. The fasten seatbelt sign switched off with a bell, and Lydia reluctantly let go of Blake’s arm. The rows ahead of them disembarked, and finally it was their turn to go. Blake handed Lydia her carryon and pulled down his duffle bag. She followed him off the plane, silently cheering herself on all the way. When the portable walkway opened into the terminal, Blake slowed down to walk beside her. “My car’s in the long-term parking. Do you need a ride?”
“My brother’s fiancé is probably already here,” she said. “Thanks anyway.” Kiss him.
“I’ll walk down with you to get your bags and help you get them to her car. That’s a lot for one person to try to manage.”
“Thanks. That’d be great.” You can do it. Kiss him.
They stood by the carousel and waited. Just do it. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him.
When they’d collected the bags, they walked out to the sidewalk. There was Cambri, waving to be sure Lydia had seen her. Lydia waved back. You’re such a chicken. If you wouldn’t do it before, you won’t do it with Cambri watching.
Cambri squealed and pulled Lydia into a hug, then stepped back to look at her. “This summer’s been good for you. You look great.” Lydia looked at Blake, and they both burst out laughing. “What? Did I miss something?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the car,” Lydia said. “This is Blake. Blake, this is Cambri.”
They shook hands, then Cambri discreetly got in the car. This is your chance. Kiss him.
And then as her mind told her to kiss him, her hand betrayed her and she reached out to shake his hand. Blake looked surprised but he put out his hand and shook hers. “Thanks, Blake. I had a nice time.”
“Me too. Thanks for all your help.”
Then she got in the car. Lydia turned to look at Blake as Cambri signaled to pull out. He was standing there watching her, his duffle bag over his shoulder. She waved, and his look of confusion changed into a smile. Cambri pulled into traffic, and a moment later, Blake was gone.
“Who was that?” Cambri asked.
“I’m so stupid. ‘I had a nice time?’ Really? That’s what you’d say at the end of a boring date with someone you never want to see again. Not at the end of the most amazing three days of your life to someone who saved your summer and who you committed a crime for.” Lydia threw her head back against the seat.
“Whoa. Start again. I’m completely lost. What just happened?”
Lydia spent the entire drive home telling Cambri every detail of the last three days. It wasn’t until she was home that she realized she hadn’t told her anything about the three months before Sunday.
What had just happened? Blake stood on the sidewalk watching Lydia’s friend’s car leave the airport. Lydia had turned toward him, her face illuminated by the bright lights that lined the drop off and pick up area. She’d had the same look on her face that she’d had that first day when she’d told him about her failed summer. And then she’d waved. Blake waved back and smiled. She was like a bird, skittish and jumpy until she psyched herself up. He’d seen it that first day and the day of their sky dive.
Blake was disappointed. The entire flight home, he’d resisted the temptation to kiss the top of her head. He’d been wanting to kiss her since she leaped into his arms after they’d jumped, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her away. All the way home, he’d planned to pull her into a hug and kiss her goodbye at the airport.
And then she’d stuck out her hand. He should have used that hand to pull her into the hug. Or teased her and said something clever. Instead, he’d shaken her hand and said “Thanks for your help.” Thanks for your help? The last three days had been thrilling and emotional and funny and sweet. And he’d just said ‘thanks for your help.’”
It was after ten when Blake unlocked the door to his apartment. He’d turned the air conditioning down when he’d left, and the room felt too warm and stuffy. The difference between Charlotte and Denver was that in Charlotte, even the air outside was hot and muggy. In Denver, the night air was cool and refreshing and all Blake had to do was open the windows. One advantage of living in the high mile city. Blake smiled as he thought of Charlie. He couldn’t think about Charlie without thinking about Lydia and how much she’d enjoyed Charlie and those potstickers. She’d enjoyed everything.
Lydia hadn’t cowered in the corner of the plane refusing to jump. She’d willingly learned how to Segway. She’d taken a risk when it was needed at Shady Days. She wasn’t a coward at all. Somehow, she’d convinced herself she was a boring and unadventurous person, but she was wrong. He should have told her.
He would tell her. After they’d been home for a few days, and she was settled into the new school year and after the Challis-Austin deal was finalized, he’d tell her. He’d call her and they’d go out to dinner and he’d tell her how brave she was and how beautiful she was and how much he liked her. Maybe they’d skip dinner and go rock climbing or skiing. Maybe she’d want to go to a Nuggets game with him. There were so many things he wanted to do with her.
Blake didn’t even unpack. He plugged his phone in to charge and went to bed thinking of adventures he’d like to share with Lydia.
The teacher’s meeting lasted two weeks. At least that’s how it felt. Mrs. Gentry, the principal, had a high-pitched, sing-song voice that hummed on and on. How much of her summer had been spent figuring out different ways to say “The kids are our top priority?”
“The kids are our top priority.” “We have to put the kids first.” “We do this for the kids.” Blah, blah, blah. “These kids need to know they’re number one.” Blah, blah, blah. “These kids mean more to us than life itself.” Okay, she didn’t really say that one, but she might as well have.
Lydia relived the curb at the airport while Mrs. Gentry babbled on and on, only this time, she daydreamed about the way she wished she’d have handled it. She’d come up with three romantic scenarios when Cate Espinosa jabbed her in the arm and whispered, “At least try to look like you’re paying attention.”
“Yikes. That noticeable?” Lydia whispered back.
“Yeah. Someone’s not ready for school to start.” Lydia smiled and did her best to focus on what Mrs. Gentry was saying. It wasn’t easy.
During the afternoon session, the school counselor, a nurse and a member of the school board addressed them. The counselor was pretty interesting, but fevers and head lice just couldn’t keep her attention, so Lydia started writing a list of things to do on the first day of school, but soon the list had turned into Blake’s name in all kinds of script.
Lydia was hopeless. The last three days had spoiled her. A life of skydiving and Segwaying and treasure hunting wasn’t realistic, and a shy, small-town school teacher had about as much chance with Ryan Gosling as an orange had of becoming the main ingredient in banana bread. She scribbled through Blake’s name. It was time to focus.
At four o’clock, the meetings finally ended. Lydia hadn’t had a chance to get a few things she needed for her bulletin boards, so she made a quick trip to the craft store and the drive through for a sandwich. It was going to be a long evening, but she didn’t mind.
Cambri called just as she arrived back at the school. “How you holding up? You must be pretty tired today.”
“Tired wasn’t my problem. I couldn’t focus at all. I just kept thinking about Blake.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“No. He’s got such a stressful job, and he’s behind and he wants to make partner. He’ll be putting in a lot of long days. And after our goodbye last night…” Lydia sighed.
“Yeah, that was unfortunate.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like my mind and my body aren’t connected or my subconscious is so afraid I’ll make a fool of myself that I end up making a fool of myself. I’m sure he thinks I’m not interested.”
“So set him straight.” Lydia laughed. “Seriously Lyd, call him. Tell him you like him. Tell him you want to see him again. What could it hurt?”
“My pride.”
“Who cares about pride when true love is a possibility?” Cambri said it like she was Scarlett O’Hara, and Lydia could picture her raising her wrist to her forehead dramatically.
“I’ve got to get busy, or I’ll be here all night.”
“All right. But listen. Your summer was supposed to be about adventure and bravery, and this guy helped you reach your goals. I think you should finish off your summer with one more tiny act of bravery. I think you should call him. You don’t have to tell him you want to marry him and have a dozen little Blakies. Just say you’d like to get together sometime.”
“Oh Cambri, I don’t know. I want to be brave, but…”
“I remember a friend coming and picking me up to go for a drive and dropping me off at Jace’s. And then you left me there. Is that what I need to do? Come pick you up and drop you off at Blake’s?”
“I only did that because you’re both so stubborn.”
“And thank goodness you did. But Lydia, there’s no harm in letting this guy know you’re interested. If he is too, he’s close enough for you guys to see each other. If he’s not, he’s far enough away that you’re not going to run into each other in Bridger or Fort Collins.”
“That’s true. I’ll think about it.”
“Good girl. Now go get those bulletin boards done.”
Lydia thought about what Cambri had said as she finished her sandwich. It was true. What did she have to lose? If he wasn’t interested, this would just be an ego boost for him. If he was interested, they could…
Stop! Lydia was not going to get ahead of herself. That would only cause disappointment when it didn’t happen. Sta
y grounded. Right now it was about being brave, and you couldn’t be brave in the future. You could only be brave in the moment.
Blake got to the office a little before seven in the morning. He had a few things to get ready before Mary Challis arrived at eight-thirty, and it wouldn’t hurt to have Mr. Van Wagoner come in and see Blake already hard at work.
Brynn stopped by his door an hour later. “Good idea beating Pryce here. Maybe this will help him forget how badly you screwed up.”
Blake tried not to show his annoyance. “Thanks for helping me out while I was gone. It was good to finally get the box my grandpa left me.” Not that anyone at the office had cared.
It was hard not to be a little bitter. Brynn had worked with him ever since he’d come to Collins, Strider and Van Wagoner. He’d thought they were friends. He’d thought Finn and Andy were his friends. They’d been working hard for the past two years just like him. But no one here had asked how he was when his grandpa died. No one had cared that it was important to him to get the box. These people weren’t really friends. They were associates. His life was filled with clients and associates. He’d been taking all his time away from people who mattered and giving it to people who knew nothing about him. This was what Grandpa had been talking about. Permanent and temporary. He got it.
“I’d better get to work,” Blake said, turning his attention back to the files on his desk.
Pryce Van Wagoner walked through ten minutes later. Blake would have missed him entirely if he hadn’t looked up at that moment. But he did, and he watched Pryce walk by the glass wall of his office. There was no reaction, no inclination of the head in greeting, no hello. It was just a glance in Blake’s direction.
Mary Challis arrived a few minutes early, but Blake was ready for her. He met her at the door and shook her damp hand. She sat on the edge of her seat and fidgeted. “I’m sorry I spoiled your vacation, Mr. Knowles. I’ve just been so worried. Hank took care of everything like this when he was alive, and I’m just so afraid I’m going to make a mistake.”
