by Becky Harmon
He quickly began filling out the paperwork. Maybe he thought Dex would change her mind again.
“Do you want a view too?”
“No, a regular room is fine.”
When the paperwork was completed, she hurried back to her apartment and packed a small bag. She met the gum-chewing woman in front of her building with a red SUV.
“I hope she’s happy to see you. She seemed sad to be leaving.”
Dex gave her a half smile. She hoped Lucy was glad to see her too. As she maneuvered the SUV through the streets of Toronto toward the Queen Elizabeth Way, she forced herself to be logical. Not that anything she had done in the last twenty-four hours had been logical. She didn’t know how Lucy would react to seeing her there. She might even be angry. Preparing herself for the unknown was what she had done her entire military career and even now in commercial flying. But this was different.
She didn’t want to feel the things she did for Lucy. The uncertainty of dealing with someone else’s emotions wasn’t in her wheelhouse. She liked to be in charge. To make a plan. To call all the shots. But with Lucy she was at a loss. Convincing Lucy to spend the night with her had been easy, and she had been confident when she made the decision to do it. Now she felt all messed up inside. She wanted Lucy to want the same things she did.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy stood at the window watching water gush over the frozen ice sculptures spread throughout the river. It was possibly the most exquisite sight she had ever seen. Even as cold as the temperature was outside, tourists still lined the Niagara Falls overlook on the Canadian and US sides. She was grateful she had booked a room with a view, thinking she would skip the frigid up close and personal view from below.
One look at the Christmas decorations when she had arrived helped her decide how to spend her weekend. There was an animated Christmas light display that stretched for three miles and she planned to walk the entire thing. The brochure recommended visitors come by car and only walk the portions that interested them, but she didn’t want to drive any of it.
She followed the pedestrian bridge to the Fallsview Casino Resort and through the Galleria of shops and restaurants. As she got closer to the end of the strip of shops she could see through the glass doors to the patio beyond. It was covered in a dense fog that made her think of a rock concert she had attended in college. A small silver placard at the door read “Caution: Falling Ice” and made her think twice about stepping outside. Not that she had even considered it.
The red leaf trademark for the Canadian coffee shop lured her to the left, where she stepped inside a small food court. Making a straight path to the legendary shop, she ordered a strawberry-and-cream-filled doughnut and a large coffee with cream. She wanted to immediately take a sip as she made her way to an empty table, but the steam escaping through the open hole told her what a bad idea that would be. The doughnut was soft, and gooey filling spilled out as she tried to squish it flat enough to fit in her mouth. She managed to take a few sips of the hot coffee as she devoured the doughnut in only a few bites.
She took her coffee and wandered back through the mall of shops to the entrance of the casino. She wasn’t a gambler and hadn’t planned to visit this part of the attractions. Standing at the entrance in the semi-quiet of the open mall, she could feel the level of excitement inside the room. The ringing bells and constant music blended with the voices of the tourists already inside. Sipping her coffee, she slowly wandered through the rows of machines, watching the bars on the screens flip at each spin.
One machine caught her attention and she dropped into the chair in front of it. Her eyes scanned the list of payouts should she be lucky enough to match any of the displayed patterns. She fed a few bills into the slot and waited for the money to register on the screen. The cost of one spin was so far below a dollar that she hit the button to max her bet. On her third spin, she felt her heart race as the identical kittens lined up across the screen to double her money.
The adrenaline rush she felt at her job when she had to step into a potentially dangerous situation was different from this flow of endorphins. She could easily see how someone could get addicted to the thrill of winning. It almost didn’t matter how much a win paid out. It was the sound of the winning music combined with watching the characters dance across the screen that made her want to see it again and again.
After an hour or so and the loss of the original donation to the interactive machine, she finally stood and pocketed the money she had won. She walked through the rest of the rooms but didn’t see a machine that attracted her like the first one had. As she prepared to leave, she saw a tall woman with a dark ponytail at the entrance. From behind the comparisons to Dex were unmistakable. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she decided. It had to be.
After the way she had left Dex that morning, she was confident she would never see her again. How many times had she said that? Too many, for sure. But that was what she had wanted, right? To convince Dex that she only had one-night stands no matter what had happened between them. She knew she should never have spent the previous night with her, but she had no regrets. When it came to women, she had rules.
But…she also did what she wanted. And she had wanted to be with Dex. Truth was she still did.
She also knew the natural progression of spending time with one person would likely lead to something she couldn’t give. Which meant disappointing Dex. That thought made it easy to accept she couldn’t see her again. Well, maybe not easy, but at least understandable.
* * *
Dex looked around the crowded room, wondering if she should go in and forget about her reason for being here. Finding Lucy in this crowded tourist trap didn’t seem possible, even if they were in the same hotel. Yes, she had thought about having the front desk transfer her call to Lucy’s room. In fact, she had even picked up the phone in her room twice before deciding against that option. Lucy had made it clear she was finished with her.
So, why was she even here? Deidra had been disappointed with her when she called and told her she wouldn’t be around for dinner on Sunday. Maybe she should return to Toronto and forget about Lucy. Clearly Lucy had forgotten about her.
She walked toward the exit but turned at the feeling she was being watched. Lucy’s dark eyes met hers, and Dex was powerless to turn away. She tried to read the emotions in Lucy’s face as she watched her walk toward her, dodging the tourists in her path. She stopped inches from Dex, her arms folded across her chest.
“Coincidence?” Lucy asked.
Dex shrugged. What could she say? I bribed the rental car people and followed you? She was pitiful. Never in her life had she pursued a woman like this. And certainly never one who didn’t want her.
Lucy turned toward the exit and she followed. When they reached the quietness of the shopping mall, with the roar of the casino crowd left behind them, Dex touched Lucy’s arm.
“Wait.”
Lucy stopped, but she didn’t face her. Dex couldn’t tell if she was angry, but she knew she only had a few seconds to say what she wanted to say and then Lucy would be gone again. And she might never have this chance again.
“I did follow you. I didn’t like the way we left things and I wanted to talk.”
“So talk.”
Lucy remained facing away from her and laced her arms across her chest again. All of her body language said, “leave me alone,” but Dex needed to see her eyes.
“Look at me. Please?”
When Lucy didn’t move, Dex stepped around her, moving directly into her path. Lucy’s eyes were dark and unreadable. She took a chance and blurted out the honesty of what she felt.
“I want more. More of you.”
“I don’t have anything to give. I’m not that kind of person.”
“You mean you choose not to be that kind of person.”
“No,” Lucy said with conviction. “This is who I am. I can’t give you what you want.”
Lucy moved around her and began walking
again. After her words, Dex knew she should let her go and try to move on, but there had been something in Lucy’s face. Something sad. Something that said maybe this wasn’t who she wanted to be. And that little inch of doubt opened the door for Dex; she decided she couldn’t let the moment pass.
“Lucy, wait.”
Lucy stopped again, but Dex could tell she would flee at any moment. “Have dinner with me. Nothing more. If after that you still want me to disappear, I’ll honor your request.”
She would have bet Lucy was going to say no, but she waited, hoping she would prove her wrong. After what seemed like forever, Lucy started walking away again. Dex sighed. She knew she had given it her best effort, but to say she was disappointed was an understatement.
“Fine,” Lucy called over her shoulder. “I’ll be at the steak house at six.”
Dex’s heart leapt. She wanted to run in circles and scream. It was a small success, but it seemed larger to her. She walked in the opposite direction of Lucy and the hotel, barely looking at the stores on either side of her. When she reached the glass doors at the end, she pulled them open, allowing a huge gust of wind to suck her outside. The cold felt good on her face, but the constant mist from the falls was chilling, so she walked forward until it was partially blocked by a row of trees lining the path. She turned and looked through the glass to the building she had just left.
Niagara Falls was a winsome place any time of year, but in the winter it became a kind of a wonderland. Icicles hung from every available spot on the building and trees, glittering in the stray rays of sunlight. She knew from past visits that after dark the Christmas lights would come on and the entire town would be bathed in the glow. It was magical and the thrill she felt at being able to see it again was second only to the anticipation she felt about her dinner date.
Her body was numb from the cold and she hurried back inside, grabbing a cup of coffee from the food court. She wandered through the stores, including the tourist shops, trying to kill time. After a short time, her eyes burning from lack of sleep, she decided a nap might be a better way to pass the afternoon. As she passed the steak house, she stopped to make reservations and discovered Lucy already had. Did dinner reservations signify a date? It did to her, but something told her Lucy wouldn’t see it the same way.
In her room, she stripped and crawled between the sheets. Setting her alarm to make sure she would have time to prepare for dinner, she allowed her mind to play images of Lucy while she drifted off.
It felt like she had barely fallen asleep when the alarm woke her. She jumped in the shower and tried not to agonize over what to wear. The few items she had brought with her weren’t what she would normally wear on a date. Her favorite dark blue shirt with six mini buttons at the top would have to do with jeans and running shoes. As she passed the mirror on her way out, she stopped for a final look. She opened the remaining buttons on her shirt. A hint of cleavage beneath the cotton shirt might not be a bad thing.
She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and was shown to their table. She ordered a bottle of wine, hoping Lucy would help her drink it. It was a bit presumptuous, she knew, but maybe it would help them relax and open up. Lucy arrived at exactly six and walked to the table without the help of the hostess. She was dressed in her usual jeans and a T-shirt, but without a sports team logo for a change. This one had a Canadian maple leaf in the center built from a patchwork of patterned fabric.
Dex poured her some wine and then refilled her own glass. “I’m glad you agreed to this.”
“It’s only dinner.”
Lucy’s arms weren’t folded like during their earlier conversation, but her tone hadn’t changed. Dex was content to let it ride. She was hopeful Lucy’s attitude would change as the evening progressed. The waiter arrived and took their orders, quickly disappearing in the darkened room. A small candle in a glass globe sat between them, casting a glow across Lucy’s face.
“Rather than painfully pulling words from you, I’ll start,” Dex said with a smile. “I was born in the US, but my father is Canadian. We traveled back and forth between the two countries a lot while I was growing up. College sucked or maybe it was my psychology major. Either way, I wanted more. I joined ROTC and liked it. It took me eight years on active duty to figure out it wasn’t what I’d hoped.” She spoke briefly of her military career, skipping over the harder assignments, and went straight to her civilian job. She could see Lucy starting to relax as she spoke about airline travel and dealing with the public on a daily basis.
“Don’t you get sick of being crammed on a plane like a sardine? At least I can escape to my own compartment,” she asked, trying to pull Lucy into the conversation.
“I only mind when I get stuck by a sweaty, smelly guy.”
“I bet those end-of-day flights are the worst.”
“No, actually it’s the early morning flights. Men smell funky in the morning.”
“And women?”
The first smile of the evening stretched across Lucy’s face, and it warmed Dex all the way to her toes.
“Women can stink too.” Lucy laughed.
“Trust me. I’ve seen the worst of it. Or smelled rather. Hot desert climate brings out the worst in everyone.”
“Were you in Iraq or Afghanistan?”
Thankfully before she could answer, the waiter arrived with their dinner. Steak and shrimp for both of them. She couldn’t believe they had almost finished the first bottle of wine and she quickly shook her head at the waiter’s offer of a new bottle. She wasn’t trying to get either of them drunk, and a second bottle would certainly do that. Lucy agreed and they each asked for bottled water instead.
“When did you become an air marshal?” Dex asked, hoping Lucy had forgotten her earlier question.
The look Lucy gave her dispelled that hope, but she was relieved when Lucy answered instead of pushing back at her.
“As soon as I graduated from college. It was post-9/11 and they were hiring like crazy.”
“And that makes how many years?”
Lucy smiled again. “Are you asking how old I am?”
“Maybe. And?”
“I’m almost forty,” Lucy said disgustedly, making Dex laugh.
“Wow, you make that sound repulsive.”
“It is. How old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty-five next month,” she held up a hand. “But I’m not afraid of forty.”
“Puh-lease.” Lucy drug the word into several syllables. “You still have five years, so you can’t say that yet.”
She laughed again. “I’m really not. It’s just a number. It doesn’t mean anything to me personally. It’s not going to change the way I live.”
“Even though you have to realize that your life is almost half over.”
“My life could end today. Or next week.”
“I hope I’m not on the plane you’re flying.”
“Odds are I won’t die flying. I’ve come through many situations that I shouldn’t have and I’m thankful for each one.”
Yes, there was more than one occasion for her to be thankful for. The flickering candlelight in the red globe on the table merged in her mind with the red emergency lights of the cockpit and alarms sounded faintly in her head. She could hear the ping of intermittent single rounds hitting the outside of the Blackhawk as she fought the decreased power and loss of thrust. She looked away from the globe and steadied her breathing, her eyes following the fluid movement of the wait staff as they tended to the tables around her. She focused for a moment on outlining for herself the safety procedures that had kept them in the air until they could land at the nearest safe landing zone rather than on top of enemy fighters on the ground.
Lucy’s expression had softened as the conversation progressed, and Dex knew they were getting close to more personal questions. Lucy didn’t prove her wrong.
“Why flying?”
“The view is amazing once you’re in the air. It’s like a solitary escape from this world. It
puts things in perspective.” She took her last sip of wine, tipping her glass at Lucy. “Why an air marshal?”
Silence stretched while Lucy’s fork played with the last few bites on her plate. She had almost given up on hearing the answer to her question, when Lucy finally spoke. Her voice was hoarse and filled with emotion.
“My dad was on one of the planes that hit the World Trade Center.”
Her heart sank at the sadness in Lucy’s eyes. She searched for the proper words, but nothing would come to her. Given the illness her father had, death was an ever-present part of her life, and she felt Lucy’s pain. She reached her hand across the table and covered Lucy’s. Their eyes met and held. Lucy’s filled with tears as she pulled her hand away and wiped her eyes with her napkin.
“That doesn’t normally happen,” Lucy said gruffly.
“I don’t think the death of someone you care about ever gets easier.”
Lucy took a deep breath. “He was mine and my mother’s world. Things kind of fell apart after that, and I needed to feel like I was doing something worthwhile.”
“And then you discovered you liked the job,” Dex said, more a statement than a question.
“True. What’s not to love? I wear my own clothes and I get to carry a gun.”
“What pistol do you carry?” Dex asked, chuckling at the grin Lucy gave her in response. She hadn’t been sure if Lucy would be familiar with the age-old army saying. The men in her unit were known for grabbing their crotches and reminding anyone who would listen that their gun was for fun and their pistol was for protection.
“My pistol is a Sig Sauer P229. You carried a Beretta in the army, right?”
“Actually we switched to the Sig 320 a couple of years ago.”
“It’s about time. The Beretta is big and clunky. I like how compact the Sigs are and the 229 fits my hand perfectly. It’s easy to conceal too.”
Dex was glad the conversation had moved onto an easier topic for Lucy and her smile had returned.