My Best Friend's Brother

by Mia Madison

  “Yes.”

  “I have to admit—this boat ride has been fun. So I’m in.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t have to. Happiness radiated from me so strongly that probably Parker, the unseen boat captain, and even the self-absorbed selfie lady had noticed.

  Inside, my mind was doing cartwheels of joy. Tomorrow, I’d spend the day in the mountains with Parker.

  It didn’t get any better than that.

  “I could get used to a boat ride a day.”

  Parker nodded his agreement from his seat. He had on sunglasses and was sprawled on the bench, his long legs out in front of him. He looked tired. I wondered if maybe he’d gone out and found a bar last night after we’d gotten back. I hoped not. The thought that I wasn’t good enough company for him was a painful one.

  Then again, things had gone pretty good yesterday afternoon. Yes, I’d acted like a little girl on the bridge, with all those spiders around. Ugh, the memory of them still made me shudder. But God, the way it had felt to be in his arms when he carried me… I’d replayed that imagine in my mind a million times before bed. And we’d had a nice dinner together. A dinner between two grown-ups. I’d even had wine. Little kids didn’t do that. At least not American ones.

  But this morning he’d been a bit on the quiet side. Of course, I knew from sleeping over at the Grants’ house when I was a kid that he was a late riser. Or at least he had been before the army.

  “I think our stop is next.” The boat had entered a smaller offshoot of the lake and was headed toward a dock near a few buildings, one of which read Mt. Pilatus and had a dragon on it. Apparently, a couple of hundred years ago, people believed that a dragon lived at the top of the mountain.

  I slung my backpack onto my shoulder and stood by Parker, waiting for him to get up.

  “The boat hasn’t even docked yet.” He took off his sunglasses and squinted up at me.

  “I know. I’m just excited.”

  “You’re like a little kid waiting for her parents to wake up Christmas morning.” His tone was light, but I flushed. I was trying to get him to see me as a woman, not a child, but it seems like half the things I did made me seem like a little girl.

  I vowed to be more careful. More mature. But I still couldn’t help the bounce in my step as I followed him off the boat and onto the dock.

  Parker walked slowly while we crossed the street, for which I was grateful. Usually, with his long strides, it was quite a task to keep up with him. Once we were at the station, I immediately got in line while he used the restroom. When he rejoined me, he stared at the tracks. “How the hell is a train going to run on that?”

  I could see what he meant. This was unlike any train station I’d ever seen. The platform wasn’t flat at all. It was more like a staircase. And the tracks, which ended just beyond the station on one side, rose up the hill like a steep driveway on the other. “I guess that’s what a cog rail is. A train that goes on really steep tracks.”

  Parker said nothing while we waited, but when the train made its way down the steep track, he gave a low whistle. “It’s like the bleachers on rails.”

  I had to agree with him. Though it looked like a normal train car from the outside—except for the steep incline—the inside looked like risers. Each bench seat was higher than the one next to it.

  A conductor hopped out and opened the gate, and I was pushed forward with the crowd. Scrambling to get good seats, I dashed up the stairs and opened a door to one of the small, eight-person compartments. “Parker, I’ve got seats,” I shouted and then climbed in. I sat on the lower seat so that we’d be facing forward.

  After a long moment, Parker entered, ducking his head to fit through the door. He sat down next to me as some Asian tourists took the row above us. Two people speaking French squeezed in, one sitting next to Parker and one next to the other tourists.

  “Switch places with me,” Parker said.

  “Sure.” I was pleased that he wanted to sit next to the window even though you couldn’t see anything at the moment except the side of a steeply rising hill. But as soon as he sat down, he whipped a folded baseball cap from his back pocket, set it low on his forehead and closed his eyes.

  He was going to take a nap? Now?

  The train started with a lurch, and in my excitement, I decided to ignore Parker’s inexplicable attitude. Maybe he’d wake up when we got to the top and got him some coffee.

  The train was moving forward now… except forward really wasn’t the right word. Instead, it was moving up at nearly a forty-five-degree angle. It felt as if the train were traveling up an escalator instead of mere train tracks.

  So far, there were too many trees on either side of the train to see much else, but the trees were refreshing enough. And when I craned my neck to see behind us, I would sometimes catch a glimpse of the lake.

  Astonishingly, Parker kept his cap over his eyes for the entire ride, which took a good forty minutes. I couldn’t tell if he was asleep, but he sure wasn’t taking in the view which was getting better by the minute. And as we approached the top, it looked like we were about to ascend into the clouds themselves. For a moment, I missed Claire. I wanted someone to share this with, not someone who was going to sleep through it.

  But once the train chugged to a stop, a feeling of joy coursed through me. Finally, I was among the mountains. And not just any mountains—the Swiss Alps!

  Parker roused himself and held the door of the small train car open for me. Then, without thinking about it, I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. We emerged in a large building that seemed to be made mostly of windows to showcase the view. Inside was a little bit of everything. A gift shop. Information about Mt. Pilatus. And coffee. As much as I wanted to get outside, I knew that had to be first.

  We stood in line and Parker bought a steamy hot coffee for him and a water bottle for me. I shoved the bottle in my backpack, eager to get outside, but Parker sat down at a table a little way away from the window.

  If he hadn’t been the kindest, sexiest, hottest guy I’d ever known, I would’ve rolled my eyes. “Parker, let’s go. You can drink coffee and walk at the same time.”

  “Spoken like a non-caffeine addict,” he said, taking another sip. “You go explore a bit and when you come back, I’ll be ready.”

  I looked at him. Then I looked out the windows at what was already an amazing view. Both were mouthwatering to look at, but the latter won out. “Okay, see ya!”

  He raised his cup in acknowledgement as I dashed outside.

  It was incredible.

  The pictures hadn’t done it justice. The top of Mt. Pilatus was a series of peaks covered in green grass and jagged gray rocks. That in itself was worth the trip, but in every direction, there were more amazing things to see. Lake Lucerne was one way, and rolling hills, tall peaks, and picturesque valleys were another. I didn’t know which direction to explore first, but I knew I wanted to get away from the paved, sterile areas, so I followed a sign that indicated a trail was ahead.

  Half an hour later, I found Parker still at the same table, sipping coffee and flipping through his phone. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. “You look happy.”

  “I am!” I sat down across from him, suddenly feeling a little winded.

  Parker frowned at me. “Where’s your water?”

  “In there.” I indicted the backpack I’d set down on the table between us.

  Without asking, Parker unzipped the pack, fished out my water bottle, and loosened the lid for me.

  “Hey!”

  Ignoring my protest at him rummaging through my bag, he handed me the water bottle. “Drink it.”

  I was still a bit irritated. Who did he think he was, my father? “I’m not thirsty.”

  “You’re running around at 6000 feet. You need to stay hydrated at this altitude.”

  Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. A bit sheepishly, I took a long drink from the bottle.

  “Do you have a headache?�
��

  “No. I feel great, actually.” I set the water down and remembered all the things I wanted to tell him about. “It’s gorgeous out there, you’re going to love it. There’s this path and it takes you actually into the mountain side, kind of like a cave, but more like a tunnel. And there are parts cut out where you can see the countryside down below. There are cows in fields down there, and they’re so far away they look like mice, but when it’s quiet, you can hear their cowbells. Oh! And there was this church.”

  Parker gave a mock frown, and I laughed. “Even you would like this church. It’s set on a little flat parcel of land overlooking the valley. And there are no roads to it—at all! They have services every Sunday, and the only people who attend are hikers. Can you believe that?”

  He chuckled. “Now I’m picturing a bunch of ladies in fancy dresses and elaborate hats climbing up the mountain on Easter Sunday.”

  “That’s just one side of the mountain. There’s still lots of parts I haven’t seen. I was saving them for you. C’mon.”

  Parker stood up, but then he turned toward the wrong direction. “Just gotta get one more cup.”

  “Parker! We’re at the top of an absolutely gorgeous mountain. There’ll be plenty of time for coffee later. Please, just come see it.”

  “Tell you what, come back in twenty minutes, and I should be awake enough then.” He grinned at the expression on my face. “I’m an old man, Squeak. I can’t run along mountain paths without fueling up.”

  Amusement and irritation warred within me. He wasn’t kidding anyone about being an old man. He was in excellent shape. Hadn’t he just carried me around like I didn’t weigh anything yesterday? But it was true that he wasn’t much of a morning person.

  Apparently seeing some sort of resignation in my face, he waved me off. “Go have fun.”

  I did… but not as much fun as I would have with him.

  “And I didn’t even tell you the best part,” I said, aware I was talking a mile a minute but unable to slow down. It was just so amazing up here. “The best part was when some of the cows came up right under the outdoor eating area. They were on a path not fifteen feet below. Up close, they’re really pretty. A nice tawny brown, but I do feel sorry they have to carry those huge bells around their necks. Oh, but the funny part was that there was this group of teens, and each one of them walked down the stairs and down the path a little way. Then one by one, they each approached a cow, squatted down next to it, and then took a selfie. With a cow!”

  Parker laughed and offered me some of the chips he’d been snacking on. “What else did you see?”

  “Paragliders. There’s at least a dozen of them soaring around… someone told me they can stay up for forty minutes or more since there are so many air currents around here. You should see it—they just run down a hill with that little mini-parachute dragging behind them, and then it goes up in the air and just lifts them off the ground. I don’t know how they stay up, but they do. Look, I took some pictures.”

  I tapped at my phone for a few seconds and the pushed it across the table. Parker took a cursory glance at the first photo. “Would you ever do that? Glide through the air like that thousands of feet off the ground?”

  “God, I’d love to.”

  “Really? You’d just run off the side of a mountain and hop into the air?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet you’re afraid of spiders.”

  “Good thing there aren’t any in the clouds.”

  He laughed and stood up. “Let’s go get lunch.”

  “What? Don’t you want to explore first?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “You just had chips.”

  “That’s not real food. We’re going to have to eat sometime before we go back down. It’s especially important at this altitude.”

  With a sigh, I followed him to the restaurant. We sat outside, but at a table near the building because Parker wanted to be in the shade. I would’ve preferred to eat by the railing at the edge of the deck so as to better see Lake Lucerne down below. Then he further irritated me by ordering a hamburger. Those cows had been so serene looking. And friendly. I got some kind of vegetarian noodle dish.

  When we were done, Parker paid the bill and leaned back in his chair, putting his sunglasses on. “It is a nice view,” he said, looking at the mountain peek behind me.

  “That’s where that tunnel thing was where you could look out over the whole valley and see that beautiful little church. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He stood up, and we walked back the way we came. When we passed by the main building, Parker paused. He pulled out his phone. I took mine out, too, but I didn’t have any new messages. I thought it might have been more news from Claire. I’d texted her twice but hadn’t heard anything back.

  “Shit, I can’t see.” Parker squinted at the screen in the sun, and stepped inside a door by the gift shop.

  I followed. “Is everything okay?”

  He looked up from his phone. “Yeah, but I have a couple of texts I need to answer. Work stuff.” He made a beeline for the table he’d sat at all morning.

  I stared at him for a long moment and then followed. “You don’t have a job. You just graduated.”

  “But I’m looking for a job—aren’t you? A buddy of mine got a lead on something I might want to interview for. I need to jump on this. It’s a good opportunity.”

  He was right, of course. If there was the possibility of a job, that did come first. But… something didn’t feel right. Some part of me, my gut or the back of my mind or something was telling me this wasn’t right.

  And then I knew. He was ditching me. Just like he had the first night when Claire and I had wanted him to walk to the river with us. And that first full day on our own when he wouldn’t go to that museum with me.

  Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them back. I thought we were past this. I thought we were a team. I thought he was finally beginning to see me as a real person, not just his kid sister’s little friend. But I was beginning to fear he’d never see me as an adult, let alone a woman.

  It seemed more and more unlikely. Sure, we’d seemed close last night, but that was because I’d been scared. I’d needed rescuing on that bridge. He’d been a solider, that’s what they did. I guess it hadn’t been because he cared. At least not in the way that mattered.

  “Lanie?”

  “It’s fine. You do what you’ve got to do.”

  His frown made me suspect my voice hadn’t been quite as steady as I’d meant it to be. “Talk to me.”

  “What’s there to talk about? You don’t want to do the things I want to do. So we split up. It’s not a big deal. We’re both adults.”

  “Lanie, that’s not what—“

  “But I do have one question,” I said before my courage faltered. “Remember that first day after Claire and the Grants left when I was ready to get a flight home?”

  Parker’s eyes had narrowed as he watched me. “What about it?”

  “Why didn’t you let me?

  “What? Why would you ask that?”

  “It’s obvious you don’t want to spend time with me. I get it, Parker. You planned to have a fun time in Europe, taking a grand tour of the bars and coffee houses. Smoking and drinking with people your own age. Women your own age. And now you’re stuck chaperoning your little sister’s friend. If I were in your position, I’d be pissed off, too. So I relieve you of your duty, Captain Grant. You’re free to do whatever the hell you want.”

  I stormed off, leaving Parker momentarily speechless. He caught up to me as I pushed open the glass door, putting his hand on my arm. But I shook him off without looking back.

  The most beautiful sights I’d ever seen were waiting ahead of me. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew where to find me.

  But apparently he didn’t, because when I reached the railing and looked back, he was gone.

  Parker

  Shit.

  Of all the times for Little Lanie to
finally find her voice. Where had the high-pitched, hesitant squeaks gone? That had been the full-throated voice of a woman. An extremely angry woman.

  And beneath that… a woman who was hurt.

  That’s the part that killed me. That she actually thought I didn’t want to spend time with her. My family? That was a different story. Except for my sister, I’d always taken every chance I could get to duck away from them. But Lanie? Never.

  And now she thought I didn’t want to be with her. She thought I didn’t care.

  Neither one of those were true.

  Crap.

  I’d hurt her deeply. That much was clear. I’d put my pride before her feelings though I hadn’t realized I’d been doing it at the time.

  Frowning, I paced back in forth in front of the windows. She was obviously feeling rejected. How else was she supposed to feel with the way I’d behaved on this trip?

  That led to two possibilities. Was she feeling rejected by a friend? Because we were friends. I’d known her since she was eight. So of course a friend’s rejection would hurt. Or was it something more? Could she possibly be feeling rejected by not just a friend but also a man? A man she was maybe starting to be interested in?

  It that were the case, it was worse. Worse pain for her and a worse situation all around. Because there was no way that sweet young woman should have any sort of feelings for me beyond friendship. She was so young. So smart. So innocent. She had her whole life ahead of her, whereas I’d just gotten a degree at age thirty-two. A degree I didn’t any idea what to do with.

  I’d lied before. There hadn’t been a text from a buddy about a job interview. I hadn’t applied for any because I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do. Men my age were supposed to know what they wanted to be when they grew up. Shit, they were already supposed to be that thing.

  Disgusted with myself, I walked back to place where we’d arrived on the cog rail. Maybe if I found out when the train was next headed down the mountain, I could text Lanie. Tell her to stay as long as she wanted, and that I’d meet her down by the docks.