by White, Karey
“Maybe I’ll have to see it on YouTube,” Flynn said after more than an hour and several trips up and down the beach, studying the rocks from all different angles.
I laughed. “Some tour guide I am. I guess I’ll have to email you the link. It was pretty cool.”
“Ah well, the water feels great and I had fun, so don’t fret.”
At other stops we saw the Point Sur Lighthouse and McWay Falls, an eighty foot waterfall that empties onto the sand before running into the ocean.
“Well, Charlotte,” Flynn said as we began the drive north. “I think you’re a brilliant guide. Today was perfect.”
I smiled. “Except for the hole in the rock. It was fun showing you around. Oh, did you want to drive?”
“Is that okay?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Let’s eat and then I’ll drive from there.”
Flynn leaned his seat back a little and rested his hand on the back of my seat. He looked comfortable and at ease, but the proximity of his hand made it impossible for me to relax. I was driving, so total relaxation was out of the question anyway, but just knowing his hand was so close put my nerves on end. If I leaned back at all, would I touch it? If I did, would he move it away or touch me back? We’d had such a good time together that part of me wanted more. But that would just make it sad for him to leave.
Who was I kidding? I liked Flynn. He was kind and funny and interesting. If he lived here, I would be hoping to see more of him and I would definitely be wanting to lean back into his hand and hope it was the start of something. But he didn’t live here and he was leaving in three days.
I was overthinking again. There are plenty of people who would tell me to lighten up. They would say, “He’s leaving. Have a wild, passionate fling and then say goodbye. No big deal.”
But those other people aren’t me and no matter how much fun we had together, I couldn’t separate my heart from my actions, and my heart was too fragile right now to throw caution to the wind. It was because I wanted to lean back and touch his hand that I couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.
And then he brushed a few loose strands of my hair back and rested his hand lightly on the back of my neck, just under my ponytail, and I forgot all my rational thoughts.
“Are you okay?” Flynn asked.
I didn’t dare move my head to look at him. It might cause his hand to move and now that it had touched me, I wanted it to stay there permanently.
“I’m good,” I said looking at the road ahead of us.
“I can always tell when you’re stewin’ on a problem.”
“You can?”
“Your face. It gives you away.”
“I’m not stewin’ at all.”
“What are ya thinking about?”
No way was I going to say what I had been thinking. Especially not with his hand resting gently against my skin. I had been thinking I didn’t want it there, but that was craziness. That was like a man in the desert trying to convince himself that he didn’t want any water because he was afraid he was seeing a mirage and he didn’t want to be disappointed.
“You don’t want to tell me?” Flynn asked.
“I’ll tell you. I was thinking about mirages in the desert.”
“And that had you unhappy?”
“Well, mirages are kind of unhappy things, right? You’re dying of thirst and you see water up ahead and then you get closer and, too bad, it wasn’t really water after all.”
Flynn laughed. “Are you thirsty?” His thumb moved just behind my ear.
I smiled. “Maybe a little. Good thing we’re almost back to Carmel.”
“Here’s something for you to think about,” Flynn said when we were almost finished with dinner. He reclined, his arm on the back of the booth. “It’s not life or death like a man dying in the desert, but I’d still like to know what you think.”
I put down my fork and smiled. “You know how much I like to think about things.”
“What if I want to see you again?”
It was difficult, but I think I managed to keep my breathing regular.
“Well, that’s tricky since you live 4,851 miles from me.”
The laughter in Flynn’s eyes told me I shouldn’t have been so specific.
“How do you know that?”
I’m pretty sure my face was the same color as the red, vinyl booth. I shrugged. “Google. You can find out pretty much anything you want to know on Google.”
“And you wanted to know how far away I live?” I picked up the salt shaker and sprinkled salt onto my empty plate. “Does that mean you were planning to come visit me?”
“It means I was curious.”
“Curious is a fine start.”
I looked at his face to see if he was making fun of me. He wasn’t. His eyes were sweet and smiling and it was hard to look away.
“I wasn’t askin’ ya to come to Scotland. I was just askin’ for one more playdate.”
“Isn’t Bruce about finished with his project?”
“He won’t be finished until after I’m gone, but I’m goin’ to visit the site with him tomorrow morning, and he’s taking the weekend off.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but I knew I needed to say it. “You really should spend as much time with him as you can. He’d be sad if you came all this way and chose to spend your time with some girl instead of him.”
Flynn leaned across the table and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re not just some girl, Charlotte.”
Suddenly my stomach felt inhabited by an entire dance company raucously performing a jig. Probably a Scottish jig.
“So will ya do something with me Friday night?”
“Flynn . . .”
“Bruce told me about the food trucks down by the pier. I can’t remember what it’s called.”
“Off the Grid?”
“Aye, that’s it. Bruce’ll probably work late, so let’s have dinner together Friday and then I’ll spend the rest of my time here with him. Just a few hours. So I don’t have ta go alone.” Flynn reached across the table and put his hand on mine, stopping me from adding more salt to the little pile I had created.
I sighed. “Okay, but just to keep you company. Just so you’re not a sad, pathetic tourist eating by yourself.”
Flynn moved his hand and leaned back again. “Thanks, Charlotte. I’m not too good to accept your charity.”
It was almost seven when we left the restaurant. I handed the keys to Flynn on the way to the car. “Your turn.”
Flynn adjusted the driver’s seat, which didn’t help much since I’m tall and had it almost all the way back anyway.
When Flynn turned the key in the ignition, the engine turned over sluggishly but didn’t start. “Is there a trick?”
“No. Sometimes it’s just slow.”
He tried again, but this time, it was even more lethargic. The third time he tried, the engine didn’t even turn over. He turned the key a few more times, but nothing happened.
“I think we’ve got a dead battery.”
“I’ve got jumper cables.”
I retrieved the cables from the trunk while Flynn asked a couple that had just arrived if they could jumpstart the car. With the cables attached, the engine turned over slowly and then started.
We thanked the couple and pulled out of the parking spot. At a stop sign, the engine idled slowly and sounded like it might die, so Flynn pumped the gas to keep it going. A couple of blocks later, I saw an auto garage that looked open.
“Let’s pull in there and see if they can tell us what’s wrong. I don’t want to be stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere.”
“You barely caught me,” a man in navy blue coveralls said, wiping his hands onto an oily rag. “We close at seven.” He inclined his head toward a clock on the wall that showed we’d made it by only a few minutes.
“Thank you for looking. I don’t want to be stranded between here and San Francisco.”
“You wait in here and I’ll
take a quick look.”
He left the room and we sat down in the cracked, vinyl chairs.
“See if I ever let you drive again,” I said and we laughed.
“It’s probably the battery or the alternator,” Flynn said. “Let’s hope it’s the battery. That would be an easier fix.”
We watched news headlines scroll past on the muted television until the mechanic returned a few minutes later.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid your alternator has gone out.”
I tried not to laugh as I looked at Flynn. He grinned and shrugged.
“What do I need to do?”
“I’ll have to order a part in, but I can probably have it ready to roll by tomorrow, late afternoon.”
Now I wasn’t laughing. Flynn came to the counter and stood by me.
“My aunt owns a nice bed and breakfast here in town. I can check with her and see if she’s got any vacancies.”
“That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”
“Sounds good. I’ll call you if I run into any problems. Otherwise, you can come by and pick ’er up sometime after four.”
We gathered a few things out of the car and then stepped out into the warm, evening air. The mechanic closed and locked the door as soon as we walked out. I let out a deep breath. My knees bumped my purse as I rocked back and forth, holding it with both hands in front of me. I looked to the right and then the left. I had no idea what to do.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Charlotte. If you want to find a place to stay tonight, we can do that. If you want to find a way home, we’ll find a way.” I looked up at him. This might have been the most serious I had ever seen Flynn. “I feel terrible that I broke your car.”
“You didn’t do this. You just happened to be the one behind the wheel.”
“Yaw, so much for driving.”
I laughed and suddenly I felt better. “I couldn’t have timed that better.”
“Oh, ya knew it was about to go and ya put me behind the wheel?” Flynn laughed with me.
I shrugged. “Let’s go find someplace to figure this out.”
We walked about three blocks before we found a park. By the time we sat down at a picnic table, I had a few ideas.
“I’m going to see if I can get us a ride home and then I’ll have someone drive me down Saturday.”
“I could maybe come with ya tomorrow.”
“No, you go with Bruce and see his project.” No way was I going to interfere with the little bit of time they had left to spend together.
“Do you want us to bring you down Saturday?”
“No. I’ll figure that out. You’re on vacation and it’s almost over.” I was already punching some numbers into my phone. “I’m sending out a group text to see if any of my family can come down and pick us up tonight.”
“And I’ll call and see if Bruce is through for the day. Maybe he can come down.”
It took only a couple of minutes to find out that Bruce wouldn’t be finished until about nine. If we didn’t find anyone else to come get us, he would then.
My phone vibrated.
WILL: I CAN COME IN ABOUT AN HOUR. WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN CARMEL?
I hadn’t even written a response when it vibrated again.
ANGUS: DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, WILL. I’M ON MY WAY.
ME: THANKS WILL. I TOOK A FRIEND SIGHTSEEING. ANGUS, ARE YOU SURE YOU HAVE TIME?
ANGUS: I JUST FINISHED THREE DAYS ON SO I’M OFF UNTIL SATURDAY EVENING. WHERE SHOULD I COME?
WILL: A FRIEND, HUH? DOES THIS FRIEND HAPPEN TO BE A MAN AND IS HE BY CHANCE FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY?
ME: WE’RE AT A PARK IN CARMEL. IT’S ON JUNIPER.
DAD: THANKS, ANGUS. CHARLIE, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD YOUR CAR SERVICED?
ME: IT’S BEEN AWHILE, DAD. WILL, I’M NOT SURE I LIKE YOUR TONE.
DAD: YOU SHOULDN’T EVER TAKE A CAR ON A LONG TRIP WITHOUT IT BEING SERVICED.
ME: YOU’RE RIGHT, DAD. I DIDN’T REALLY THINK ABOUT BIG SUR BEING A LONG TRIP, BUT I GUESS THE ALTERNATOR SHOWED ME.
WILL: YOU LIKE MY TONE JUST FINE. HOW IS YOUR SCOTTISH “FRIEND?”
DAD: I’M GLAD YOU’RE SAFE. DRIVE CAREFULLY, ANGUS. WE OWE YOU.
ANGUS: IT’S NO PROBLEM.
ME: YOU’RE THE BEST, ANGUS. WILL, YOU’RE JUST A BRAT.
“Help is on the way,” I said. “You can tell Bruce not to worry about it. Angus is coming.”
“Your brother?”
“Practically. Our best friend.”
“Lucky for us there’s an ice cream shop right there.” Flynn pointed at a little place just down the street. “And it looks like we’ve got a brilliant view of the sunset right here.”
It was true. From our picnic table, there was a break in the buildings across the street and we would have a lovely view of the sky as the sun went down.
“Ice cream sounds heavenly,” I said.
A short time later, we were sitting side by side on the picnic table, our feet on the bench, eating ice cream and watching the sky.
The sun felt bigger and golder than usual as it started its descent. Clouds on the horizon turned gold as the giant sun slipped lower. When it hit the sliver of the Pacific that we could see in the distance, it was like an army of leprechauns had scattered a thousand pots of gold into the water. We watched until the sun completely disappeared, leaving behind a sky of pink and lavender and blue. Eventually streetlights flickered to life.
For almost two hours we talked. I learned that Flynn was almost twenty-nine and had been engaged when he was twenty-four to a woman named Bridgett. “She came to live with her aunt in Stornoway and we hit it off right away.”
“What happened?”
“She thought Stornoway was boring. She complained about it a lot and finally said if I wanted to marry her, we’d have to move to Glasgow ‘cause Stornoway was eatin’ her alive. I told her I wouldn’t leave and she was gone within a week.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Aye. If she loved me it shouldn’t have been so easy to leave. But so it is.”
“Did she get married right away?”
Flynn laughed. “I don’t think so. I guess I’m not as skilled as you are.”
We had moved to the ground and were leaning against the trunk of a large tree. I pulled my knees up and hugged them, resting my head on them as I looked at Flynn. “Are there very many girls for you to date?”
Flynn smiled. “Not many. I guess I have too few options and you have too many.” I turned my head and looked out across the road.
“They say it only takes one if it’s the right one,” I said.
“Aye. And we’ve neither one found the right one.”
“What if there isn’t a right one?” I said it quietly, more to myself.
Flynn put his hand on my back. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. There’s a right one.”
A ridiculous tear slid down my cheek. I hated that my emotions were still so close to the surface. I quickly brushed it away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
Flynn moved his hand from my back and pulled me into his side. I leaned my head on his shoulder. His hand was warm on my arm. “Don’t be sad, Charlotte.”
I swallowed hard. “I try not to be, but sometimes it’s hard.”
And then we just sat there. I should have felt foolish, but Flynn’s arm around me felt kind and comforting.
After a while, my phone vibrated. It was Angus telling us he was almost to the park.
Flynn pulled me to my feet and we walked to the road to meet Angus.
There was a short debate about who should sit where before I finally prevailed and Flynn sat in front with Angus. I wanted him to have more leg room after being crammed in my little car most of the day.
I sat behind Angus but stretched my legs across the width of the car. As nice as it was to have a car that easily fit in our tiny garage, I wondered if maybe I should trade the bug in for something larger. My legs were grateful for the extra space.
“You’re a life
saver,” I said to Angus as he pulled away from the curb.
“Mighty nice of ya to drive down to get us,” said Flynn.
“Couldn’t leave Chuck stranded.”
“Chuck?” asked Flynn.
I shook my head while Angus gave Flynn a rundown of my nicknames. Of course he didn’t mention the nickname Flynn already knew.
“I can bring you down to get your car Saturday morning,” Angus said.
“What about work? I’m sure I can get Will or Dad to bring me down.”
“I don’t mind. I don’t work until Saturday evening. Sounds like as good a way to spend the day as anything.”
The guys got along surprisingly well. I picked up bits and pieces of a lengthy conversation about golf as I dozed in and out. They talked about the downfall of Tiger Woods and where they would most like to golf.
“I told Bruce I wanted to golf Pebble Beach when I came, but he’s been tied up during the week and there’s a tournament there this weekend.”
“I’ve always wanted to golf there myself. Crazy that I live this close and I’ve never done it.”
“If I come back, we should do it,” Flynn said.
“Sounds good.”
“Charlotte can join us.” Flynn turned around and smiled.
Angus looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Charlotte’s not much of a golfer.”
“He’s right. I couldn’t justify spending that kind of money when I’m so bad. Besides, I would just ruin it for you guys that actually golf.”
We took Flynn home first. The whole drop-off was awkward. I didn’t really want to stand outside Angus’s car and say goodbye, but Angus had to be exhausted and I didn’t want to leave him sitting in the car while I walked Flynn to the door of his brother’s condo.
I paused and we talked for a minute as I moved from the back seat to the passenger seat.
“We good for tomorrow?” Flynn asked. “I’ll have Bruce’s car.”
“Maybe you can break his car too.”
“Good way to leave my mark here in America, right? Pick you up at six?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll text ya for the address.” We stood there, looking at each other awkwardly for a few seconds too long before Flynn took a few steps backwards. “Thanks, Charlotte. Sorry about your car.”