Far from Here

by Nicole Baart

  She didn’t have the strength for it this morning. Instead of cracking open the file, Dani tucked it under her arm and left the breakfast room through a glass door that opened onto a boardwalk of sorts. The wharf was directly below her, and to her right the walkway stretched past a collection of shops and eateries straight into the historic heart of Seward. It was bustling with people, even at such an early hour. What had Ell always told her? Spring was tourist season in Alaska.

  Dani didn’t feel anything like a tourist.

  And yet, as her tennis shoes smoothed an already well-worn path, she found herself wandering with all the aimless abandon of a relaxed vacationer. Dani stopped to survey a bulletin board stapled with flyers for heli-tours and snowshoeing expeditions, but the words blurred together. She paused in the doorway of a narrow restaurant where the warm aroma of fresh-baked bread draped the air with sweetness, but she barely registered the mouthwatering fragrance. It wasn’t until she had nearly tripped down the gangplank to the long rows of boat docks that Dani came to herself.

  Here, with her feet mere inches from the ice-blue water of the bay, Dani realized with shallow-breathed desperation that she was looking for something. Her chest felt hollow, and against the echoing walls her heart beat a jarring rhythm. Where? she thought, her eyes darting from boat to boat as if she were bound to catch a glimpse of Etsell hiding inside one of the low cabins. In her mind Sam was beside him. She flushed to life as a woman swept past Dani on the pier and disappeared onto the dock of a wooden boat. It didn’t take much imagination for Sam to fill out in the contours that Dani had just seen: willowy and bright-eyed, crowned with an abundance of hair like chocolate silk.

  Jealousy brought Dani to walk slowly past the unknown woman’s boat, to steal peeks out of the corner of her eye for a sign, any sign, that Etsell was anywhere but broken across the ridgeback of some unnamed mountain. She didn’t know if the thought was comforting or horrifying. But in the end there was nothing to see. The woman was alone, and older than Dani had first presumed. She smiled and waved when she caught Danica studying her from beneath a fringe of long bangs.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” the woman called.

  What could Dani do but nod?

  Though her steps were steady, it felt to Dani as if she stumbled to the end of the dock. There was a long beam laid across the final plank, a short seat that welcomed the weight of her sudden fall. Dani felt the weathered lumber beneath her, the splintered concern of world-weary wood against her hands, and repressed an almost irresistible desire to scream. It wasn’t fair that Hazel and Blair were thousands of feet above her, doing the one thing she should have mustered the strength to endure. And it wasn’t fair that Etsell had defied her every wish and taken off for Alaska like some child on an adventure. He had risked everything the day he decided to leave her and live out his dream.

  He had ruined her life.

  Fury and despair spun a slow dance in the place where Dani’s heart should have been. But they were empty emotions, wrung dry of any meaning from the moment Civil Air Patrol had first informed her that Etsell was missing.

  He’s gone, she thought almost dispassionately, as the words tumbled through her mind. He’s gone.

  When she glanced over the side of the dock, she could see the sky reflected in the panel of gunmetal water. There was a feathered fringe of clouds speared through with the tall spires of sailboat masts that seemed to prick the heavens. And framed in the middle of it all, she could see her own pale face, the incredulous, wide-eyed stare of a woman stunned, her mouth open as if to utter “Oh.” As if her life had taken her completely by surprise.

  Russ seemed relieved to hear Dani’s voice when she finally called him midmorning. He assured her that the flight from the Midnight Sun would take less than an hour—plenty of time for him to gather up the things he would need for the trip and take her out for lunch in Seward. They agreed to meet at a restaurant off the water, a little roadhouse called Alaska Nellie’s.

  Dani went back to her hotel room and dropped the unread file of newspaper clippings and other paraphernalia on her bed. Then she ran a brush through her wind-tossed hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was about to walk out the door, but something niggled at the back of her mind, a strange impulse to smooth her lips with some plum-pink gloss and brush a little color into her cheeks.

  As she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, it struck her that she was afraid to meet Russ. Sure, he was the man who had more or less convinced Etsell to abandon his life and fly to Alaska. But he was also the one person who could help her understand her husband’s relationship—or lack thereof—with Samantha Linden. She wondered if Russ would compare her with the intrepid Sam and find her small-town, Midwestern ways lacking.

  Alaska Nellie’s was an unobtrusive restaurant a block and a half down from the Alaska Sea Life Center. Dani paused with her hand on the door handle and watched the families congregating in front of the blue-gray campus of the indoor aquarium and research facility. She had flipped through the Sea Life Center brochure in her hotel welcome binder, and in spite of the circumstances of her trip to Seward, she briefly wished that she could enjoy the harbor seal display.

  When she was seven, Dani had rescued a stuffed seal pup from the secondhand store in Blackhawk. She never named him, but her seal’s pebbled fur had been loved smooth in a decade of nighttime cuddling. Before she happened across the sleek pup, Dani hadn’t known that she fostered an enduring affection for animals who could live on land and sea, effortlessly part of two wholly different worlds. She would have loved to see a seal in real life; to touch the glass where water and air were divided in half in perfect cross section.

  But Dani wasn’t in Seward for frivolous indulgences, and she leaned into the door of Alaska Nellie’s, setting off a trill of silver bells.

  “Good morning!” someone called from the back. “Go ahead and seat yourself.”

  Dani was early, and not just for her lunch rendezvous with Russ. The restaurant was conspicuously empty. Knotty blond floorboards looked polished and meticulously clean, almost as if no one had yet stepped foot in Nellie’s, even though a trifold on the nearest table claimed that they had the best breakfast in Seward. Dani stood inert for a moment, lost between the fading echo of her own footsteps. She glanced at her watch. Quarter to twelve. Maybe it would be best to walk around for a few more minutes.

  Before she could make a quick retreat, the bells above the door sang a second time. Dani spun around, surprised by the sound in the still restaurant, and came face-to-face with a man who looked like nothing so much as a pool cue. He was tall and narrow, clad in varying shades of brown, and the top of his bald head was covered with a canvas newsboy cap the color of St. Patrick’s Day.

  He looked startled for a moment, then a knowing smile bloomed across his face. It bore a certain sad edge; a shadow swept across his brow as if his eyes knew something that his mouth did not. He reached out his hand. “Danica Greene,” he said with conviction. “I’m Russ Manfred.”

  Dani wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man before her, but she held out her hand and let him shake it. “You’re early,” she told him, backing away when he leaned in a bit. Russ seemed to be on the verge of pulling her into an embrace.

  “So are you.” Russ shrugged. “I was hoping to be here a bit early. To—”

  “Gather yourself,” Dani finished. “Yeah, me too.”

  They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds, sizing each other up with the sort of candor that can last only a heartbeat or two. Dani was trying to convince herself that Russ and his cancer-stricken wife were worth the loss of her husband. She wondered what he thought of her.

  “Do you have a table?” Russ asked.

  “We might have to wait,” Dani joked dryly, and was surprised when Russ laughed.

  “How about something out of the way?”

  Dani followed him to a table in the back section, kitty-corner from the door. There wa
s a half wall along one side of the table and they could clearly see the kitchen on the other side. Like the rest of the diner, it was immaculately clean but seemed empty. Dani craned her neck, looking for the woman who had invited her to seat herself.

  “They have good fish and chips here,” Russ offered. “If you like that sort of thing. It’s kind of an Alaskan specialty.”

  Dani nodded.

  “And reindeer sausage. Have you tried that yet?”

  “It’s on the breakfast buffet at our hotel.”

  “Another Alaskan treat,” Russ said lamely.

  When the waitress finally emerged, breathless and grinning, to bring them glasses of water and menus, Dani wished that she could feign illness and leave Russ to his own devices. Why had she agreed to meet him? The air between them was full of things they couldn’t say. Of accusations and apologies that might never be voiced. How could you say such things to someone you’d just met? Besides, it was obvious that Russ felt guilty for strong-arming Etsell into taking over his flights for a couple of weeks. As well he should, Dani thought. For all she knew, a handful of routine escorts had turned into something that ensured her life would never be the same.

  They were silent while they studied the single-page menu, and when the waitress returned a few minutes later, they both ordered the fish and chips. “Our tartar sauce is homemade,” she assured them with a wink. “You’re gonna love it.”

  More patrons were finding their way into Nellie’s, and when there was a soft buzz of conversation around them Russ removed his hat and ran his hands through nonexistent hair. The skin-smooth feel of his own pate seemed to shock him because his eyes went wide.

  “I shaved it when Kim lost her hair. One round of chemotherapy and poof, it was gone. Sometimes I just forget mine is gone too.”

  Dani wondered if she should tell him that it was a nice gesture, that he certainly seemed to be a loving husband. But the words stuck in her throat.

  “Look,” Russ said, picking up the conversational slack, “this is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. Etsell was a good friend, Danica. I’ve always looked forward to meeting his wife. I just never imagined it would be under these circumstances.”

  “Me either.” Dani studied the man across from her and realized that his distress seemed entirely genuine. It was bizarre to her how Ell could have formed a bond with someone whom he only connected with online and at yearly National Business Aviation Association conferences, and yet Russ’s agony was so real it was palpable. Apparently the odd NBAA event and sporadic emails had been enough to cement her husband’s relationship with a man who was more or less a complete stranger to her.

  “If I could take it back, I would. If I could erase that telephone conversation and somehow make it that Etsell never felt obligated to help me out, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You have no idea how much I blame myself.”

  Dani didn’t have to guess. It was written all over his face. She sighed. “It’s not your fault,” she said, even though she felt that in some small way it was. But it was her fault too. Maybe if she and Ell had been in a better place he wouldn’t have been so eager to go.

  “It’s just one of those things.” Russ appeared to cling to her absolution. “Even the best pilots get confused up here. The weather is so unpredictable . . . who knows what could have happened?”

  “So you believe that . . .” Dani hedged, with her breath lodged firmly in her throat, waiting for Russ to fill in the blank.

  The man across the table stared at her like he was the target at a firing range. “I don’t know, Danica,” he whispered. “I wish I did.”

  “But you think his plane went down.”

  “Well,” Russ fumbled, “that makes the most sense. I mean—”

  “What about Samantha Linden? Do you think she disappeared with him?”

  Russ was quiet for a second as he contemplated Dani’s words. Then understanding hit him with a slap of unsavory implications, and he put up his hands as if to ward off Dani’s suspicions. “If Sam is with Etsell it’s accidental. I mean, they’re together for purely coincidental reasons. You can’t think that, Danica.”

  “Think what?”

  At that moment the waitress appeared with their meals, and Russ turned his attention to her with undisguised relief. He busied himself with the ketchup bottle and then painstakingly unrolled the napkin tucked around his cutlery. But Dani wasn’t about to let him off so easily.

  “What can you tell me about Samantha?”

  Russ popped a couple of crinkle fries in his mouth and regarded Dani with a wary gaze.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me about her.”

  He sighed. “I know what you think, and it’s not true. Sam’s a wild card. I’m sure she’s off having the time of her life somewhere and she just forgot to call the lodge and let us know. She’s done it before.”

  Dani just stared at him.

  “They’re not together.”

  “Fine. I just want to know about her. Did she fly with Etsell often? Did they spend a lot of time together?”

  Russ seemed resigned that Dani wasn’t going to let up in her line of questioning. “Yes,” he said, only thinly disguising his reticence. “But it’s not like they had a choice. My wife didn’t like it much when Sam joined the Midnight Sun team and I had to fly her all over creation either. But Kim got used to it.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Russ realized his mistake. He tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Dani knew Etsell’s type and she pictured Sam as leggy and well endowed. Maybe with sultry brown eyes. Whatever she looked like, Dani was sure that Sam had the sort of earthy self-confidence that she herself was lacking.

  “I really should be going,” Dani muttered, ignoring her untouched plate of beer-battered cod. She grabbed Blair’s file and tried to slip out of the booth without meeting Russ’s distressed gaze. He reached for her arm but stopped himself.

  “Don’t go. Please. You don’t understand about Sam. Besides, Etsell had only been here for three weeks. Do you really think he would leave you for a woman he’s known for less than a month? It’s irrational.”

  And maybe it was. But Dani didn’t tell Russ that Ell had sworn his love for her on their second date.

  Her husband was the sort of man who flew high and fell hard.

  Danica

  I didn’t know that Etsell was thinking of proposing to me until Natalie came home from work one afternoon and told me that she had spotted my boyfriend in the jewelry store. Natalie was on summer break, working overtime at the library to put a small dent in the loan she had acquired to pay for room and board at Vassar, and complaining vociferously about the lack of amenities in our little town of three thousand. My sister considered herself practically a New Yorker, though I knew that she could hardly rub two pennies together, and would never be able to afford the trips to Manhattan that she regularly alluded to. She was stuck in Poughkeepsie, and more than likely married to her books, but whenever she came home she loved nothing more than to lord her superiority over us. I was stunned that she even knew I had a boyfriend.

  “Ell?” I cocked the spatula I was holding in disbelief. “You saw my Etsell in the jewelry store? Do you even know what he looks like?”

  Natalie raised her hand a couple of inches above her forehead. “Blond, ’bout this tall, sort of looks like Apollo in a T-shirt and ripped jeans?”

  “That’s the one.” I turned back to my attempt at risotto and was disappointed to find it sticking to the bottom of the pot. “You just made me ruin supper.”

  “Order a pizza.” Natalie knocked on the counter to get my attention. “Didn’t you hear me? I just told you that your paramour is about to pop the question.”

  “Doubtful. I’m eighteen. I graduated from high school two weeks ago.”

  “Exactly. Exactly.” Natalie huffed, as if that explained everything. “So what was he doing at Elizabeth’s poring over the engagement ring display?”

  I dug out a bi
te of the risotto with the end of my wooden spoon and tasted it. “Plaster,” I groaned. “It tastes like plaster.” Scooping the contents of my failed dish into the garbage can, I tried to focus on why Natalie was so upset. “I guess I don’t see what the big deal is,” I finally admitted.

  “Are you daft? It’s a huge deal! Enormous.” Natalie crossed the kitchen and grabbed the pot from my hands. She deposited it with a clang in the sink, then took my chin in her hand like she used to do when I was little. The gesture seemed to surprise her. Letting go of my face with a sigh, she stuck her fists on her hips. “Dani, we gotta talk.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

  “Not really. So you saw Ell in the jewelry store. So what?”

  “So it’s going to be hard for you to leave this place if he proposes.”

  “Leave?”

  “Hello? Iowa State? This fall?”

  “Yeah, about that . . .” I backed away from Natalie and yanked open the refrigerator door. “Risotto was a bust. How do you feel about wraps? We have leftover chicken—”

  “Do not change the subject on me, Danica Reese. You got a great scholarship. You are not throwing that away for some farm boy in a pair of too-tight Wranglers.”

  “He’s not a farm boy. He wouldn’t know the first thing about tractors or crops or—”

  “That’s not the point, Dani. He’s just some guy. You’re leaving this place, remember?”

  “This place isn’t so bad.”

  Natalie released a frustrated breath. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re different, you and me. We aren’t like Char and Kat.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what that means.”

  My arms were filled with cheese, lettuce, pesto tortilla shells, a pair of fresh tomatoes, and a bulging Tupperware container stuffed with day-old drumsticks. I deposited everything on the counter and took my own indignant stance. Folding my arms tight against my chest, I looked my sister full in the face for the first time since she stomped into the kitchen.