by Jolene Perry
This sucks. If I’m going to be stuck out here, it would be nice if we could at least talk a little. Be civil. Without meaning to, I’m blinking back tears as I step outside. I must be really tired because it’s not like me to be this emotional. So what if he doesn’t like me? It doesn’t matter.
Boz waves as I make my way across the yard.
“Hey, Dana.”
“Hey.” I wave back.
“You did good last weekend.” He nods once.
“Thanks.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this.
“Jason will loosen up. Don’t let him get to you.” Boz shrugs as if in partial apology for his friend.
I feel even more emotional after that simple comment. Maybe it’s bothered me more than I even let myself think about. And did Boz get me that fast? I pride myself on being impossible to read. I just nod once, clenching my jaw to push back tears. I’m completely unconvinced about Jason. I don’t want it to matter. But when we’re the only two people in the place, it definitely does.
After Tuesday and Wednesday of near silence, and me sneaking down for bowls of cereal when I’m hungry, I’m sort of sick of tiptoeing around here. When I walk into the living room, Jason is catching up on episodes of The Daily Show. I decide that Jason is a puzzle, and I want to know why he ditched Oxford for this. Is he hiding? Did he chicken out? Is he lying? And this not talking stuff is bullshit.
“So, The Daily Show, huh?” I ask. “Doesn’t it seem a little pointless to watch a show about what’s going on in the rest of the world when you don’t actually live in it?” I try to keep my voice nice, light.
“You have Project Runway, America’s Next Top Model, and something called Say Yes to the Dress set to record. Does that sound right?” He’s mocking.
“You think you have me all figured out.” I’m bored, tired, and a little annoyed. He gave me a once over when I got here and a snap judgment to go with it. I worked hard last weekend and it hadn’t made any difference.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says.
“It does to me,” I insist. Am I picking a fight because I’m bored?
“I spent four years of college at Yale. There were a lot of people there like you. Smart and spoiled.” He turns back to the TV. Again, he’s not snotty or snooty. He’s just stating fact.
Whatever. It isn’t even that bad of an insult. I am smart and spoiled. I can’t help it, and it’s not like I’m going to go out of my way to stop it. I have a degree from an Ivy League school that has already accepted me for my master’s. I own my house outright, and I drive a great car. Well, I did drive a great car until it got nearly totaled. There are worse things. At least I recognize it.
“So, that’s why you don’t like me?” I ask. It shouldn’t matter what Jason thinks. He’s kind of nobody. I’m hoping to not be here much longer, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never see him again after I leave.
He looks at me as if deciding something and then takes a breath out, letting his shoulders fall. “Craig’s wife is my cousin, and a good friend of mine.”
It’s like someone shoved a lead ball in my stomach. He knows full well what’s going on. I don’t say anything. It’s the second time I’ve gotten a twinge of uncertainty about what I’m doing with Craig, only it’s way more than a twinge. Jason turns back to the TV.
My heart starts to pound, pushing a lump in my throat.
His words make me wonder how truthful Craig was about he and his wife. Are they together and fine? Well, they’re not fine. Not if he’s with me. Is he with her, too? My stomach sinks in.
Okay. Too heavy. Too much.
I need to lose myself in something inconsequential. I don’t want to think about what I should or shouldn’t be doing. I head over to popsugar.com and immerse my brain in trashy celebrity gossip. It’s the perfect antidote to the grungy lodge.
Craig’s out to see me, as promised, but his two days are flying by way too fast. He’ll leave for home tonight. And if I thought Jason was grouchy before, it’s nothing compared to now. It’s fine because I avoid him as much as he avoids me.
The problem is that every time he purposefully doesn’t look at me, I feel a tinge of uncertainty about what I’m doing with Craig, that’s immediately followed by a flash of anger. Craig started this, and to say that sex with him is good would be a ridiculous understatement. He’s barely with his wife, and anyway, I don’t want anything long-term. This is not Jason’s business.
Crowds should start coming in to rent cabins tomorrow, and Jason hasn’t spoken to me once since Craig arrived. Instead he’s typing away frantically on his computer. Again.
I stare at him for a while over my laptop to see if he’ll notice, but he doesn’t. What is the guy working on?
The sound of snowmachines goes by on the trail below the lodge, and I peer out the window wondering if Craig and his group are back, but it’s someone else, so I sit back.
The lodge phone rings and I jump.
Jason stands up to get it. He mumbles into the phone, glances over at me and disappears into his apartment.
Heart hammering, I eject my thumb drive and move quietly over to his computer. I can’t help myself. It looks like he’s writing something. I look back over my shoulder to Jason’s door and make a split second decision. I slide in my thumb drive in his computer and save the parent file to whatever document he has on screen. I make it back to my seat just as he walks out of his apartment.
Wow. That was close. I take a few deep breaths as I try to stop the shaking in my hands from almost being caught.
I keep staring at my computer and slide the drive into the USB port. The file is called Jason’s Writing. Jason is a writer, or more likely, wants to be a writer. Hmm. I’m wondering if I should open it and read, or if I want to or if I care aside from being nosy when I hear a group drive up and stop. The timing is right for Craig. I try not to leap to attention, but Jason glances at me as I stand, and then frowns.
I feel another pang of guilt but brush it aside as Craig comes in the door, looking snowy, flushed and really, really sexy.
My midweek is pretty nice.
Friday morning, Craig’s gone, and there’s nothing left to do to prepare for the weekend. I’m wandering back down the stairs when I hear Jason’s voice.
“Justine. It’s Jason.” I immediately sit down on the steps. I want to hear how he is with his little sister. With my brief interactions with Jason, I’m guessing he’s a lot like Keith—over-protective and bossy.
“Well, you called me a lot the first week you were there, and now I haven’t heard from you in a while so I was worried.” He pauses. “Are any of these new friends boys?” He chuckles a little. “Ohhh. I don’t want to hear about boys…. I don’t care if I asked. When I ask I want the answer to be a definite ‘no’…” I smile now. He’s protective, but in a good way. It’s cute. My brother used to set me up with his friends. It never ended well. “Stay away from him.” I can hear a smile in his voice. “I don’t care how nice he seems, all sixteen-year-old boys are after the same thing… What do you mean how do I know? I was one.” He laughs. “I’m not that old.”
I suddenly feel bad for intruding and head quietly back to the room I spend way too much time in.
Because Apparently Sometimes We Need to be Taken Down a Notch – Even if We’re Already Pretty Low
“Hey, Dad.” I try to put a smile on my face. I walk and stand looking out the window near the corner table. It’s becoming my spot. It has the best view, and the farthest table from the kitchen, where Jason spends a lot of time.
“Something’s up, Dana.” He doesn’t sound mad or disapproving or anything yet.
“Why do you say that?” I try to put on my best ‘nothing’s happening’ voice. But I’m still a little shaky from the call from the police station this morning. They arrested Workman again, so I don’t have to worry about him showing up at my house anymore. It’s something, but doesn’t feel like enough.
“Because you took a leave of absence from w
ork.” Crap, he called my work.
“My ribs,” I say.
“Still?”
I can’t lie to my dad, at least not completely. “I’m helping out a friend while I heal up.”
“Helping out a friend.” His tone is going down.
“It’s just for a little while, Dad. My ribs hurt. It’s hard for me to do all the sitting and planning that I do at the hotel.” Instead I’m washing sheets, scrubbing bathrooms and waiting tables. “I’m at a Lodge near Mt. McKinley for a bit.” I don’t know how my voice sounds. I know I want it to sound like I’m great, relaxed, and things are fine. And then I realize that maybe I could go home. Maybe. But when would I see Craig? He’s here on his days off, and I don’t want to think about where he goes home to after work.
“That sounds an awful lot like goofing off.”
“Trust me, Dad. It’s not.” I think about how much work I do out here.
“Dana, you could be doing so much right now. You were way up near the top of your class.” There’s a shuffle of papers, and I know our conversation is about over because he’s at work.
“I was number five, Dad.” How can he not remember this? Or maybe since it’s a five and not a one, it’s not important. I’m not sure.
“Exactly!”
“I’ll be back on track soon.”
“You need to be.” He’s trying to agree with me. My dad agreeing with me is like him pushing me in the direction he thinks I’m headed with the subtlety of a bulldozer. It’s just as much my fault as it is his, because I let him do it. “Your brother is really making good strides at the firm.”
Does he add that to make conversation? Or to put the pressure on? “I know. He usually is. Keith is very driven.”
“Wait, does this have anything to do with a guy? This whole lodge thing?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Definitely not.” I think about hairy Jason and want to laugh. Oh wait. Craig. Maybe it could be a little bit about a guy.
“Well, you take care of yourself. You know I don’t like you so far away.” His voice is softer now.
“I know.”
“Love you, Dana Bear.”
“Love you, too.” I want to cry. I hit end, set the phone on the table, and slump down on the bench.
“You okay?” Jason asks behind me. So much for my theory of him not noticing me at the far table.
I jerk around to face him. “Great, yeah.” Why would he care anyway?
“Your dad?” His voice is quiet.
“Can I have a private conversation?” I stare. Sympathy from someone who doesn’t like me sort of sucks.
“Sorry, I just don’t really see you on the phone much and—”
“What?” I snap back. What is he implying? Is he implying something?
“Nothing. Sorry I asked.” His voice is still quiet. He turns and heads into the kitchen.
I grab my computer and head back to the land of the Twilight bedroom. I need a kickboxing class right now or something I can destroy. Instead I realize that I hear people coming in the front door downstairs. Crap. I check myself over in the mirror, put on my best smile, and head back down.
I’m Not James Bond, and I Don’t Like Being Followed
I step out of the grand jury room, shaken, but okay. No defendant or his family today. Just me telling my story so the prosecutor can file official charges or something. I’m still not sure how all this works. I scan the hallway for Craig.
He grins as our eyes catch. It’s exciting again to see him. It’s even more exciting because I have to play cool and can’t touch him while we’re here.
“I’m in the middle of work,” he says, “but I can at least walk you out.”
So nice to see him, only it seems like nothing’s happening between us today. All I can think about now is how I still have a two-hour drive, and then either Jason or Boz is going to have to come out to the parking lot so I can ride behind one of them to get back.
“You okay?” Craig lightly touches my lower back as he holds open the door.
“Yeah. Long drive ahead of me.”
He walks too close and smiles again. “I’ll be up again soon. Maybe I’ll leave the friends at home this time, and you and I can just hang at the lodge for a day or two. Life here has been crazy, and I think you’re exactly what I need.”
I lean against my rental car. “Is that so?”
“You look so damn good.” He sighs as he faces me and then glances around the parking lot. It’s near lunch, and a lot of people are coming and going. “Wish I had some time.”
I shrug, trying to play cool, when I’m actually a little disappointed. A lot can be accomplished with ten minutes in a car, but maybe I don’t understand his job, and I definitely don’t want to come across as too needy. “Guess that means I’ll be seeing you.”
He runs a hand down my side. “Definitely.”
Just as he starts to move away, I take a pinch of his jacket, and in seconds he’s spun around, his mouth on mine. Intense, warm, and way too brief.
“Gotta run, beautiful.” His lips tease my neck as he speaks, making my knees weak enough for me to lean against my car.
Craig moves away, and I need to get out of here before I say or do something that makes me seem pathetic.
As I drive, the small trickles of snow from this morning have turned into a real snowstorm. The drive back will be interesting. I notice a small blue car pull in behind me as I’m leaving Palmer. Were they behind me before? I’m not sure.
I take the right turn in Wasilla that leads out of town. The blue car follows. It’s odd, but not too strange since there aren’t that many main roads up here. I keep my eye on the car, but expect it to turn off at any moment.
I drive through Wasilla and out the other side. I drive past Big Lake and past the Big Lake cutoff and the car is still on my tail. More than thirty minutes, and still following. I try to see who’s driving, but they aren’t close enough, and I grasp the steering wheel more tightly.
The snow is coming down hard now. Even if they were closer, I’m not sure if I’d be able to see. I’m pretty sure there’s only one person in the car, but I’m mad at myself for not looking more carefully when I was in Palmer, and the car was closer on my tail. It’s keeping a distance, but never lagging. Finally, I pull out my phone and call Craig.
“Craig? It’s Dana.”
“I’m at work.” His voice is clipped, and this reaction is the exact thing I was trying to avoid by not asking him for a few extra minutes back at the courthouse.
“Yes, thank you, I’m aware of this, but I think I’m being followed.” That’s kind of a big deal, right?
“What do you mean?” He sighs, obviously not taking me seriously.
“I mean, I think I’m being followed. I’m past Big Lake and this same car has been behind me since Palmer.”
“So?”
“So, it’s just a little scary that’s all.” How can he not be taking this seriously? He’s the one who stayed at my house in Anchorage, and all that happened was the guy showed up at my work. Now I’m being followed, and he’s shrugging me off.
“Well, we have the guy in custody.”
Now I’m starting to get mad. “Yes, I know. It’s just that—”
“Dana. Pull over and get some gas. If they stop with you and then start following you again, give me a call. I have to go, I’m at work.”
I hang up. The problem with my iPhone is the inability to slam it shut. I figured he’d be making calls for me or doing something. He has to have some trooper friends way out here, doesn’t he? I don’t want to be feeling this scratching in my chest over how he’s not doing anything right now.
I keep checking my mirror. Still there.
I get close to the Talkeetna cutoff, a little over an hour from Palmer. There’s a small gas station here. I almost pull over, like Craig suggested, but keep driving. What am I supposed to do if they’re following me, and I’m suddenly stopped? That would mean they’ve caught me.
The blue car pulls over and into the gas pumps, and I realize how tense I’ve been. I take a few deep breaths and relax, letting my shoulders fall. I’m only a few miles from the Petersville Road cutoff now, just a little ways left. When I pick up my lip balm and check my mirror, the car is there again, what feels like only a few feet off my back bumper. I drop my container on the floor, heart racing, and call Jason.
JASON
Mixed. Mixed. Mixed.
Relief fills him as he checks into the hotel under a false name. He’s safe. The girl is safe. The second he steps inside the room, her arms are around him—
The damn phone. Of course.
“Denali Lodge. This is Jason.” I glance back over the last few words, half thinking about what comes next between the couple in my story.
“Jason, I’m being followed. I’m sure of it. Well, almost sure of it.” Its Dana, half gasping for air on the line. I’m immediately tense because I don’t think she’s the type to bring drama for the fun of it. On top of that, she sounds honestly panicked.
“Dana, take a deep breath.” Without meaning to, I’m taking a breath with her. “Have you called the troopers?”
I don’t know what on earth she thinks I can do to help her. I’m thirty miles off the main road and have no idea where she is.
“I talked to Craig. He didn’t seem worried, but this car has been behind me since Palmer. That’s a lot of turns!” It takes her a moment to catch her breath again. “And then the car pulled off, and I thought I was okay, and now it’s behind me again, and I don’t know what to do!”
“Dana, take another deep breath, okay?” I jog into the entry and start gearing up. “Now, it could be nothing, right? But maybe somebody is following you. Let’s plan for the worst. It’s probably nothing, but at least we’ll be prepared.”
My heart’s hammering as I slide on my holster. What the hell, Craig? And then I have the thought that maybe Dana is the kind to bring drama, and Craig already knows this, and I’m about to learn.