by Lisa Jackson
Janie didn’t look convinced. She sat down across from Meredith, a contrite expression on her face. “I haven’t been much of a sister to you on this trip, have I? But that’s all going to change. I’m going to loan you Seth. You can sit next to him on the train.”
“And that would make me feel better how?”
Janie gaped at her as if it should be obvious. “You wouldn’t be alone. And frankly, it would give me a breather.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re dumping Seth now that you don’t need his hotel room.”
“Well . . . it’s not just that.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “Although I probably should wait and see what kind of dive Claudia has us booked into at Aguas Calientes. . . . But the other thing is, Seth broke out the guitar last night and treated me to a Gordon Lightfoot marathon.”
Spending three hours on a train next to the Bald Troubadour was not what Meredith needed right now. “I was going to use the train ride to do some planning for the Astoria Garage Players’ theater day camp.”
But, naturally, the first person she bumped into while carrying her luggage down the steep stairs from the hotel to the street was Sam. Her steps faltered when he turned and saw her, but she forced herself forward. “Hi,” she said. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Thanks.”
He didn’t seem ecstatic about it. As they continued their descent, she searched for something else to say. “How is Gina?”
“Fine.”
When they reached the bus, the driver came around to open the storage space under the vehicle. Meredith handed him her bag, and when she turned back around, Janie was picking her way down next to Gina. The two of them hesitated at the sight of Meredith and Sam huddled with the driver, and then they hurried forward. Gina hooked her arm through Sam’s. Her face was still pale, and she looked as if she might have gone down another dress size in the past day, but otherwise, she was perfectly put together in a yellow linen top, white Capri pants, and sandals. Meredith, wearing a polo, Bermuda shorts, and sneakers, felt gym teachery by comparison.
Something sparkled, and her gaze was drawn to the ring on Gina’s left hand. It really was a beauty. The silvery band had a line of little diamonds leading up to the large stone in the center. “What a gorgeous ring,” she said. “Congrats!”
Gina smiled. “Thank you.”
Meredith and Janie headed to the back of the bus, while Gina and Sam sat at the front. It seemed almost as if there were some sort of group agreement to keep Meredith and Sam separated. This continued at the train station, and then on the train itself. They boarded the blue-and-yellow Vistadome train, and almost immediately Meredith felt herself being tugged to the opposite end of the train from Sam. Their group made up half the people in their car, and once the train pulled out, the excitement of being on the go distracted everyone from their internecine soap opera. When the tracks pulled alongside a river, the passengers moved en masse to the left-hand side of the train, to get the better view.
The soothing rhythm of the wheels against the tracks worked like a balm on Meredith’s spirits. For a while, she just stared out the window as they gained altitude. She would have liked to zone out completely, but as Janie had promised/warned, Seth sat next to Meredith while Janie herself joined a few of the moms for a hearts tournament. Right after they were offered beverages, Seth cracked open his guitar case and settled in for a long, ballad-filled ride.
“I thought of some songs that might make you feel better,” he said. His first song was “Crying,” a song Meredith actually liked. At least, she liked it when Roy Orbison sang it. His next selection was “All Out of Love.”
“Is there a reason you think depressing love songs would make me feel better?”
“Just so you’ll know that you’re not alone.”
Marvelous. She and Air Supply, together in misery.
He leaned in toward her. “Is the pain too raw?”
She gulped down her apple juice, trying not to think of Sam’s lips against hers. It was amazing how sappy songs actually could get to you when you were vulnerable. “No.”
“You shouldn’t feel jealous,” he said. “I’m sure there are men who prefer your type. You win some; you lose some.”
“I’m not jealous.”
He shot her a skeptical look and launched into a dirge-like, gender-inappropriate version of Patsy Cline’s “She’s Got You.”
Though she tried not to, Meredith couldn’t help stealing glances at Sam, who was sitting on the aisle on the empty side of the train. He didn’t even seem all that interested in the scenery going by. He looked tired. Glum. Something wasn’t right.
Or maybe she was just projecting her own feelings onto him.
She wished things were normal and she could just go up and talk to him. But the way things stood now, any attempt to approach him on her part would be interpreted as her making a play for him. It was so ridiculous to feel self-conscious about just talking to someone because people assumed she was eaten up with jealousy. Which wasn’t the truth at all—or was just a tiny part of it. If anything, she had only just now realized how much she wished all the best for Sam. If he thought he could find his happily-ever-after with Gina, so be it.
He didn’t look happy, though. And how could he, facing a life sentence with that awful, superficial harpy?
All right. Maybe she was a little jealous.
After an hour of watching the train’s progress out the window as they made their way along the brown, rushing river, she got up to use the restroom at the back of the train. As she approached the door, Gina came out.
They exchanged smiles. Gina’s was especially big. Every time Meredith had an interaction with the woman now, she felt as if she were onstage, playing the part of a person trying not to appear heartbroken and jealous.
It will get easier, she told herself as she shut herself in the bathroom. Emotions were ornery things. She’d lived seven years without Sam, and for most of that time hadn’t felt this raw emptiness inside. After this trip, she’d get back to her old life and be on an even keel again.
After washing her hands, she snatched a towel from the dispenser. Drying her hands, she heard a light clink. Something sparkly winked at her from the stainless-steel sink. She blinked twice to absorb what she was looking at—Gina’s engagement ring. It must have been left on the lip of the sink, and Meredith’s towel had probably brushed it. Now, right before her eyes, that hugely expensive ring was clattering and spinning around the sink’s deep bowl, beating a swirling, elliptical path to the drain.
Dexterity had never been her strong suit. She stank at video games and any activity that required hand-eye coordination. So in the nanosecond that she watched that Tiffany cushion-cut diamond with its flashy parade of little stones on the band rolling toward that opening that would suck it into a pipe and then take it God knows where—the bowels of the train, or perhaps the very track they were rushing over—panic hit her hard. Panic fueled by the memory of having been picked last in PE for every game, and of thousands of missed shots, swings at softballs that hit nothing but air, of being the only girl in third grade who absolutely sucked at jacks.
The ring made its final narrowing rotation around the drain, and she darted her hand out, slapping her entire palm over the ring and drain both. When she felt the stones pressing into her index finger, a wave of relief hit her. Not trusting herself to let go, she dragged the ring up against the steel several inches before picking it up.
What had it been doing here? Was Gina so cavalier with jewels that she could just toss it onto a stainless steel sink and forget about it? Meredith wasn’t taking any chances. She jammed it onto her finger for safekeeping and then raised her hand to inspect it up close. It really was a little dazzler. She could just imagine how much anxiety Sam had undergone, both in picking it out and carrying it with him on this trip. It made her nervous to have it in her possession for just a minute.
She exited the bathroom and walked right into a s
tampede. Gina was leading the charge down the train aisle toward the bathroom, her eyes wide and frantic, her raised fist poised to pound on the bathroom door. Perhaps to batter it down if necessary. Behind her were Sam, Fran, Janie, and several of the yoga moms who obviously understood the pitfalls of taking off wedding jewelry in a public restroom.
Gina rampaged past Meredith, tossing a searching look at the bare sink. She swung around, grabbing Meredith’s shoulders. “Did you see it?”
Meredith had intended to go straight to Gina’s seat and return the ring to her. She’d hoped she could save Gina panic and probably embarrassment, as well, when she realized what she’d done. Now all she could do was hold up her hand.
“You mean this?” She smiled, hoping it would puncture the tension around them.
Instead, as the blood returned to Gina’s cheeks, the woman’s panic flared into indignation. When Meredith looked at her hand, she realized why. She’d mashed the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. It probably looked as if she’d been in the bathroom modeling it and fantasizing it was hers.
Heat leapt to her cheeks. “I was just bringing it back to you,” she explained quickly.
From scanning the expressions of those gathered around, she could tell that not everyone was convinced. Even Janie eyed her doubtfully, as if worried that Meredith had finally gone round the bend.
Rolling her eyes toward the windowed dome ceiling of the train, Meredith tugged on the ring, eager to get rid of it. She frowned and tugged again.
Unfortunately, the ring wasn’t eager to get off of her finger. “I think we might have a problem,” she announced.
Convincing everyone that she wasn’t a jealous ring-snatcher proved nearly impossible when the ring in question refused to budge from her hand.
Luckily, the yoga moms proved themselves invaluable—between them, they were a regular Hints from Heloise index on the subject of stuck rings. First, they advised her to soak her finger in ice cubes and then elevate her hand. When that failed to do the trick, anything greasy from people’s handbags was brought out to aid the cause. Hand lotion. Antibiotic ointment. Chapstick. Even a nut butter sandwich Seth had brought along for the train trip. Each substance was slathered on, and then passengers took turns tugging on her finger. When dislocation threatened, Nina remembered a trick involving dental floss. The floss was wrapped around Meredith’s finger—compressing the flesh until it felt like the thread tourniquet was going to cut off her circulation. Painstakingly, the ring was wriggled free.
During this ordeal, she’d barely been able to meet Sam’s eye. Did he suspect that she’d done it on purpose too? After their kiss yesterday, he might well wonder. Especially since he’d gone straight home and proposed to Gina—probably relieved that he’d escaped a fatal near-mistake.
She felt like such an idiot. She wanted nothing more than to catch the next train back to Cuzco.
The bus ride from Aguas Calientes to Machu Picchu changed her attitude. As the vehicle lumbered and zigzagged its way up the mountain road, Meredith couldn’t think about herself—except perhaps the peril she felt when she glimpsed occasional hair-raising drops into the valley below. The view was spectacular. From a distance, the impossibly vertical mountains covered in cloud forest jutted straight into the heavens. It took her breath away. When she looked out the window at the passing scenery up closer, splashes of color caught her eye. Orchids and wild begonias peeked from behind shrubs and vines.
“I think I’ll get up early tomorrow morning and walk up to Machu Picchu,” she said to Janie, who was sitting next to her, white-knuckling the armrest with one hand. She had her nose in the guidebook, presumably trying to avoid looking at the dead drop below them. For the first time, it occurred to Meredith how much her acrophobic, comfort-loving sister was enduring on this trip.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” her sister said. “The book says that hike takes an hour and a half. And you’d need to be a goat or a llama.”
“But it’s so pretty.”
“Mm.” Her sister darted a quick glance out the window and then stuck her nose back into the book. “Besides, we’re supposed to take the first bus up again tomorrow morning. Claudia is going to have us do sunrise yoga at some temple or another.”
“My corrosive Chi and I would probably be unwelcome anyway.”
Janie patted her leg, but didn’t contradict her. “Well, if you do walk it, remember to bring money. You’ll be thirsty at the top, and they charge you an arm and a leg just for water, according to this. Even to use the washrooms costs you.”
She felt a strange swell of affection for her sister then. Janie was still looking out for her, just like that thirteen-year-old who had led her by the hand on day one of first grade. The conscientious older sibling who had reminded her to bring her milk money—something their stepmother always forgot. The sister who, when she got her first paycheck, had made a date with Meredith to take her shopping that weekend. Who had seen her floundering after college and tried to rescue her. Who hadn’t wanted her to settle for the first guy who came along.
The sister who’d had no way of knowing that the first guy might have been the best guy for her. Because Meredith hadn’t known it herself.
Not until it was too late.
She put her hand over Janie’s, causing her sister to jump in alarm. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Thanks,” Meredith said.
“For what?”
“For everything.” She gestured out the window. On any normal vacation, the fantastic scenery would have been the highlight of the trip. But this was just the buildup to the main event. Maybe it was foolish to feel so crazily sentimental when they were stuck on a tourist bus, but Meredith couldn’t help herself. Tears stood in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t convinced me.”
Janie studied her closely and smiled in understanding. She patted Meredith’s hand. “Thank me when it’s clear that we’re not going to plunge to our deaths.”
It was the most beautiful place he’d ever been, maybe the most beautiful place he would ever be. But as he climbed centuries-old steps and gazed at the terraced mountainside down to the distant valley below, the magnificence and marvel of it all barely registered. He’d felt numb since yesterday and distracted by a niggling voice in his mind telling him that he was doing something wrong. But the only way out seemed wrong too. Or at least, not good.
Another voice also distracted him. Gina’s.
“I swear I can still smell nut butter on my ring.” She lifted her finger to her nose, sniffing in distaste.
“It can’t be,” he said. “Platinum isn’t porous enough to absorb a smell like that. Especially in so short a time.”
“Short!” Gina grunted. “I thought we were going to have to slice off Meredith’s finger to get my ring back. I’m still not sure why she put it on to begin with.”
“She told you why. She’d been terrified it was going down the drain. You might ask yourself why you left it there.”
“I just forgot. It’s loose, so I took it off before I washed my hands.” Her eyes widened, and she did a double take. “Wait. Are you saying it was my fault?”
He sighed. “No. I’m just saying you can’t read too much into things. She said she did it instinctively, and I believe her.”
Gina released a throaty laugh. “Quite a coincidence that she instinctively sticks the ring of the guy she’s in love with on her finger.”
“She’s not in love with me.”
“Of course she is. Haven’t you noticed? She’s been moping all day.”
“Probably because she’s self-conscious after that blog post of Fran’s. Believe me, she’s not in love with me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she told me.”
After he blurted out the words, the world fell silent. Sounds of birds and the conversation of other tourists faded. Gina held her arms rigidly at her sides. “You two were discussing love? When?”
“Yester
day. At Tipón.”
“I suppose she gave you a long speech about how you shouldn’t worry about her, because she no longer carried a torch for you.”
“Not exactly.” He took a deep breath. “The truth is, I kissed her. And she was the one who broke it off. That’s when she told me that it wouldn’t go anywhere.”
When he met Gina’s gaze, shock swam in her eyes for a moment before anger took over. “You kissed her,” she repeated. “Yesterday.”
He nodded. Confession was supposed to be good for the soul, but he was suddenly aware that it could be treacherous for physical well-being. One strong shove could send him toppling over a stone wall. His might be the first sacrificial death that the Temple of the Sun had seen for a few centuries.
But Gina stayed perfectly still. “So . . . you kissed Meredith while I was in bed sick. And then she rejected you. And then you came back to the hotel and gave me an engagement ring.”
Pointing out that it hadn’t been a matter of his giving her the ring so much as her taking it didn’t strike him as politically astute at the moment. He made do with a nod.
“Well! That’s just thrilling to know,” she drawled. “I’m your fiancée by default.”
“I swear, I never intended this to happen. You know how excited I was about this trip. I had everything planned. And then Meredith showed up.” Seeing the color rise in Gina’s cheeks, he decided that wasn’t a good route to take, either. For lack of a better alternative, his brain fell back on repeating breakup clichés. “I never meant for this to happen. You deserve better.”
She gawped at him. “Wait. You’re dumping me? You dragged me all the way to South America to let me know that you’re running off with Meredith?”
“I’m not running off with her. I’m not even sure she’d want me at this point.”
She continued to stare at him incredulously. “I can’t believe it. You’re serious.”
“It’s not about Meredith. It’s about us. We’ve been content to be going out together, to have someone. But I don’t think we love each other enough to be married for fifty years. At this point, I’d be surprised if we made it five years.”