by Beth Orsoff
Ethan looked up at Jill, but she just shrugged, and he sighed. "Do we still have any of those popsicles left?"
"I think so," Jill said. "Why?"
"Maybe I can use the stick to make a splint."
Jake cheered while my jaw dropped open and Guy said, "This I gotta see." The three of them followed Ethan and the vole into the other room but I had no desire to watch animal surgery, so I stayed behind. But as the minutes ticked by my anger grew. Why was Ethan willing to help an ugly rodent but not an abandoned walrus pup?
"I thought they were supposed to survive on their own or die," I said, when he and Guy returned, minus one mouse-like vole. "Isn’t that your mantra?"
"That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t help when you can," he said as he sat down in front of the bookcase again.
"So it’s okay to help mice but not walruses?"
"Sydney, I took a fist to the face for you. I think that buys me the benefit of the doubt. And it’s not a mouse, it’s a vole."
After Jake and Jill had set the vole free outside the cabin, Jake returned to the office and insisted on watching Ethan’s interview. Initially Guy agreed, but after he called "cut" for the third time because Jake knocked over a book, after talking the first time, and belching loudly the second, I said, "Jake, did I ever show you my video from the Arctic?"
"No, and you promised."
I grabbed Jill’s camera and hustled Jake out of the room.
The three of us sat at the dining room table and watched the video on the camera’s small screen. Jake was mesmerized by the polar bear, but Jill fast forwarded when it got too bloody. Jake lost interest after that. By the time Brutus appeared, Jake had long ago abandoned us for his action figures.
I told Jill what happened, leaving out the part where I made that horrible comment to Ethan and our subsequent kiss, and focused on the fact that Ethan refused to help. "Even though he apparently has no problem making splints for mice."
"Surely you realize that was for Jake’s benefit," Jill said. "I doubt that vole will survive to the end of the day."
"I know. And it was sort of sweet. But it still pisses me off."
Jill smiled and shook her head. "So how much more do you have to shoot?"
"This is it. Once Guy wraps up Ethan’s interview we’re done. He still has to edit it together and add the music, but he can do that from home."
"So you’re finished on the island?"
"Guy is. Obviously, I’m still here until the end of the month."
"I’ve been thinking about that," Jill said, and went to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup. "I’m not sure we really need you to stay."
"What about the radio?" Not that I’d monitored it even once since I’d returned from the Arctic. But now that Blake was gone and Guy was leaving in the morning, I intended to.
She pressed her lips together to try to hide her smile. "I appreciate your commitment, Sydney. And you’re welcome to stay if you want. I just thought you’d prefer to go home, back to your job and your friends in L.A."
Of course that’s what I preferred. But Jill had kept up her end of the bargain despite all of the trouble I’d caused her, the least I could do was keep up mine. But after I offered twice more and Jill assured me that between the six of them plus Jake they could monitor the radio just fine without me, and a third time when she said, "Sydney, you weren’t really that good at it anyway," I gratefully acquiesced.
The next morning I woke up early and packed everything but my tent. It didn’t take long since every item of clothing I’d brought with me either smelled like walrus or was filthy.
I was shocked when Guy and I walked into the cabin and everyone but Ethan was sitting at the dining table. They were usually all up and out before I’d even had my first cup of coffee. "What’s going on?"
"Your bon voyage party," Duncan said.
"Wow, I’m really touched."
"Don’t be," Brie said. "When Jill makes pecan pancakes, you can’t keep us away."
"Brie!" Jill admonished.
"Oh come on, she knows I’m kidding."
After we’d all consumed more than we should have, Tony and Sean announced they had a trail to build and kissed me goodbye. Tony promised the next time they were in L.A., they would look me up and I promised to do the same if I were ever in Juneau.
"Jake, you coming?" Sean asked, as he pulled on his jacket.
But Jake ran to me instead. "Sydney, I don’t want you to go," he said, as he threw his arms around my waist.
"Well, I’m not leaving yet."
He looked up at me through big brown eyes. "You’re not?"
"No, I still need to take down my tent."
"Duncan can do it," Jill said, as she carried the dirty dishes to Brie, who was already filling the sink with soapy water.
"It’s my tent, I’ll do it." I assumed it was easier to take one down than put one up.
"Don’t worry about it, Sydney," Duncan said. "I’ll take care of it."
"Why? Are you afraid I’ll mess it up?"
"Yes," he and Brie answered in unison. Then Jill said, "We just want to make sure all the parts stay together for the next time."
"C’mon, Jake," Duncan said, heading to the door. "You can help me."
"Wait, I’ll come. I’ve got to get my luggage."
"I’ll get it," Guy said, heading to the door with Jake and Duncan. "I have to carry the equipment down anyway."
That left me, Brie, and Jill alone in the cabin.
"So I guess this is it?" I said, trying not to get emotional. If anyone would’ve told me three weeks ago I’d be upset to leave this place, I never would’ve believed them.
Jill put down her dish towel and hugged me. "You realize you’re not the same person you were when you came here, don’t you?"
"I’m not?"
"No," Brie replied, scrubbing maple syrup off a plate. "The old Sydney was . . . let’s just say we like the new Sydney better."
I knew they meant it as a compliment, so I tried to take it that way.
"You better go," Jill said, letting go of me. "You know Captain Bailey doesn’t like to be kept waiting."
"True," I said, fighting back tears.
"Don’t you cry," Jill said, "because that’ll just get me going."
"I’m not," I said, wiping my eyes. "And you’re going to come visit me in L.A., right?"
"Yes, I already promised Jake a trip to Disneyland next year." She was crying now too.
"And you’ve got all my numbers, right?"
"Yes," she said, nodding at the scrap of paper with my contact information she’d hung on the fridge.
"Good, then I’ll see you in L.A." We hugged one more time and I walked over to Brie, who was up to her elbows in soapy water.
"I guess I can’t give you a hug."
"Sure you can," she said, spreading her wet hands out on my back.
"Thanks," I said, and pulled away from her.
"You know you can count on me." But in a more serious tone she added, "If you’re ever in Seattle, please do look me up."
"I will. And same to you if you’re in L.A."
"Like I’d ever go there. The town’s probably crawling with people like you."
I smiled and she did too. "Nice seeing you again, Sydney."
"You too, Brie." To my amazement, I actually meant it.
By the time I returned to the campground, Duncan and Jake had disassembled my tent and were already working on Guy’s, which I told Jill I was donating to the refuge whether or not I had the authority. I borrowed Duncan’s binoculars and spotted Guy hauling my luggage down the last flight of steps. The equipment cases were already stacked on the beach but there was no sign of Captain Bailey’s skiff, so I knew I still had a few minutes.
"Have you seen Ethan?" I asked.
Duncan shook his head but Jake said, "Yes you have. He’s in your tent." Duncan smiled sheepishly. "He must’ve snuck in when I wasn’t looking."
"Do me a favor," I said, handing Duncan back
his binoculars. "If Guy comes looking for me, tell him I’ll be right down."
There was still one more thing I had to do.
Chapter 56
Ethan looked up from his book as I stepped inside his tent, but said nothing as I zipped the flap shut behind me and sat down on Duncan’s cot.
After an uncomfortable silence I said, "I’m leaving."
"I know," he replied.
"So this is goodbye then." I stood up and waited for him to stand too. When he didn’t I said, "It’s been—" I paused to find the right word but settled for "interesting."
He gave me a half smile. "Yes, it has been that. Goodbye, Sydney."
I stood in the middle of the tent waiting for him to give me a hug, or a handshake, or at least walk me out. But he just leaned back against his pillow, pulled his reading glasses down from his head, and his attention back to his book.
"That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say? You’re not even going to tell me it was nice meeting me or wish me luck?"
He sighed and slammed the book shut. "Sydney, what do you expect me to say? You’ve made it very clear where your interest lies and it’s not with me."
"So? Does that mean we can’t be friends?"
He let out a laugh. "Sure, Sydney, we’re friends. Feel better now?" Then he opened his book again.
"God, you’re so . . . infuriating!"
"Infuriating?" He finally stood up. "Is that really the best you can do?"
"Excuse me if I don’t have my thesaurus handy. I’m sure if I had more time—" I didn’t get to finish my thought because he started kissing me. It was just like on the ship—more than a kiss, it was instant intimacy. Until he suddenly pulled away.
I stared up at him, at first too stunned to speak, then "wow, that was . . . wow."
"Good."
But I could tell from his sharp tone that he wasn’t just confirming my description. "Good?"
"Now when you’re sleeping with him, maybe you’ll be thinking of me."
"That’s why you kissed me? You want to ruin my sex life?"
"Ruin it?" He took a step back and smiled. "I guess I’m better than I thought."
I was at a loss for words, again. I couldn’t believe how malicious he was being. All we’d ever shared was a kiss, and even then he knew about Blake. Did he really expect me to throw away a relationship with a man I’d been in love with for ten years so I could spend the night with someone I’d known for all of three weeks? I didn’t even try to explain any of this to Ethan. I just stormed out of his tent, leaving the flap blowing in the breeze.
* * *
Twenty-eight hours later I shoved my key into the lock, and pushed open the door to my apartment. It looked exactly the same as it had before I’d left for Alaska, only dustier. I headed straight for the bathroom. It was nothing special—white tile with a shower/tub combo and a dingy linoleum floor—but it came with a flush toilet and an endless supply of hot water. "Boy, am I happy to see you."
I was too tired to unpack, so I left my luggage stacked next to the door and listened to the thirty-two messages on my answering machine while I ran a bubble bath just because I could. I soaked in the tub until my fingers pruned, then I crawled into the bed I hadn’t slept in for three weeks, which was just as soft and comfy as I remembered. I fell asleep almost instantly and didn’t wake until eight o’clock that night.
My first thought was to call Blake. I was still angry at him for abandoning me on the island and his lackadaisical attitude while he was there, but I didn’t want to be one of those women who held a grudge indefinitely. Plus he was returning to Australia in thirty-six hours, which left us very little time to make amends. Yet I wasn’t shocked when a female voice with an Aussie accent answered his phone.
"Hi, Sheena, it’s Sydney. Is Blake around?"
"He just stepped into the shower. Can I give him a message?"
"Yeah, tell him I’m home."
When my phone rang ten minutes later, I didn’t need to look at the caller I.D. "You’re back!" Blake shouted, as if he thought that was good news.
"I bet you can’t wait to see me."
"You know I do," he said, then lowered his voice. "But it might be a little awkward right now with Sheena here."
"She’s staying at your house?" I don’t know why that surprised me, since she’d answered his phone, yet it did.
"Syd, what did you expect me to do, send her to a hotel? I’m the only person she knows in L.A."
"She knows Lindsay!"
"Lindsay’s still in Alaska."
"What is Lindsay doing in Alaska when Sheena’s in L.A.?" They were supposed to spend one night at the film festival then all fly back together.
"I don’t know. Some work thing. The point is Sheena’s here and I can’t just invite you over. Even though I really want to," he added in the sultry voice he’d perfected playing a male prostitute in his first feature film.
"Why not? We can have a threesome."
"Seriously?"
"No, not seriously! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"All right. Calm down. You’re the one who suggested it."
"It was a test, Blake. You failed, by the way."
"Yeah, I got that. What are you doing home now anyhow? I thought you had to stay on that island for another week."
"Jill let me leave early because she knew I wanted to come home and see you." I didn’t think he’d call her to corroborate.
"Syd, I’m sorry. I wish I’d known."
"Why? You wouldn’t have fucked Sheena this morning if you knew you could’ve fucked me tonight?"
He sighed into the phone. "Do we have to do this?"
"What do you think?"
"What do you expect me to say?"
"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something along the lines of: ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Sydney. I would never cheat on you. Again.’"
"I didn’t sleep with her."
"But you did other things." I knew Blake subscribed to the Bill Clinton school of linguistics where "sex" meant intercourse and blowjobs didn’t count.
"It didn’t mean anything."
"Wow, that really makes me feel better. You cheated on me for meaningless sex."
"Hey, we never said we were exclusive."
"Blake, you said you wanted us to date. What do you think that means?"
"It means we have sex. It doesn’t mean we’re exclusive."
"In the ten years you’ve known me have you ever heard me say I was sleeping with two people at the same time?"
"Maybe it’s time you did."
I threw the phone at the wall so hard it chipped the sheetrock before it fell to the floor in pieces. I assumed that disconnected the call.
"You don’t look like you just broke up with the love of your life," Nicole said when I walked into Toast Café the next morning.
"What were you expecting?" I asked as I gave her a hug. "I’d show up with tears streaming down my face?"
"Of course not," she replied as she hugged me back. "I assumed you’d have the good sense to hide your misery behind dark sunglasses and a stylish hat."
I smiled and took off my baseball cap, which I’d been using to keep the sun out of my eyes and my hair piled on top of my head. After three weeks in Alaska, I was no longer used to ninety-degree weather, and I’d lost my Ray-Bans somewhere between Anchorage and L.A.
"I guess breaking up with Blake gets easier the more times you do it," I replied, then sat down.
"Perhaps." She handed me one of the menus the waiter had left in the center of the table, but neither of us bothered to read it. We ordered our usual—an egg white omelet with a side of fresh fruit for her, and berry French toast for me.
I waited until the busboy dropped off our drinks before I said, "Feel free to say ‘I told you so’ anytime now."
She smiled as she stirred two sugars into her tea. "I don’t want to compound your misery."
"Actually, I’m not that miserable," I said as I added cream to my coffee. Not that
I was happy, I wasn’t. I just wasn’t as devastated as we both assumed I’d be.
"Good drugs?"
"No, it’s just . . . ." It was hard to admit. Blake, or the fantasy of Blake, had been such a huge part of my life for so long. "Have you ever noticed how selfish Blake can be sometimes?"
"Sometimes?"
I smiled. "I know they all have to be a bit narcissistic or they wouldn’t survive."
"And we wouldn’t have jobs."
"But Blake’s supposed to be my friend. My boyfriend even. I was willing to do anything for him. Anything. And he can’t even be faithful to me for one weekend. And don’t even get me started on the walruses."
"You mean he cheated on them too?"
I had to laugh. "Be serious. You have no idea what those walrus people are like, how committed they are. They’re actually willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, unlike Blake who’s just in it for the photo op."
"Wow," she said, and sipped her tea. "I’m sending you to Alaska more often."
"You’re the one who told me not to go in the first place."
"I was wrong. Obviously sitting around the campfire singing Kumbaya with all those tree huggers actually did you some good."
Chapter 57
"What are you doing here?" Megan asked, as I passed her cubicle. "You’re not supposed to be back for another week." She was probably upset because my coming home early meant she’d lost the office pool. I’d told her it was safe to bet I’d remain in Alaska until the end of the entire month.
"Sorry, they let me off early for good behavior. But I brought you these," I said, and handed her the Native Alaskan earrings I’d picked up for her at the airport, which seemed to appease her somewhat. In return she handed me a wad of pink paper message slips, which I flipped through as I unlocked my office door, dropped my purse and briefcase on my desk, and turned on my computer.
"So what’d I miss?" I asked, as she hovered in my doorway.
"Nothing," she answered, a little too quickly.
"Nothing? In three weeks?" Besides the fact that it wasn’t possible, she was biting the gloss off her lower lip. A sure sign of trouble.