Find Me

by Liv Leighton

  I spent that night trying to come up with ways to get to the money. The two most likely scenarios was to call either Adam or Aubrey. I felt like I could let them in on what I had done, trusting them to secrecy. But something about that didn’t feel quite right.

  So before sleep started tugging at me, I had another idea—one that made no sense but warmed me inside.

  I’d stay here in Sitka and start a business. What sort of business, I wasn’t sure. But with the funds I had currently available, I figured that I had at least another three months to figure it out.

  ****

  On the third day of my fifth week in Sitka, I watched the news for the first time since staying in the hotel. I flipped through the trashy entertainment channels, curious to see how the search for me was going—or if there was even still a search. My hope was that some teenaged celebrity had gone on a drug binge and done something stupid, making the public totally forget about the fact that the ‘handsome action-and-sometimes-rom-com star’ had gone missing.

  But what I found was the exact opposite. There were multiple rumors swirling over what might have happened to Devlin Stone. One theory suggested that I had secretly become a Scientologist and was being kept hidden by the higher-ups. That was a good one and made me laugh. Another theory was that I had gone back home to where I had grown up in Maine. My favorite, though, was a line of thought that wondered if I was having a secret affair with an older woman who, just last year, had been rumored to be sleeping with me (she had not).

  There were a few shots of reporters trying to get a statement from Aubrey, as she had been the last person of note to see me. They showed footage of us on the red carpet, including the juicy kiss. More recent footage of Aubrey had her giving reporters the bird as they shoved cameras in her face and asked her if she knew where I was.

  Aubrey looked sad and, I hate to admit it, betrayed. I felt bad for leaving her high and dry.

  I cut the television off and looked at the blank screen for a moment. Seeing Aubrey in such a state was the first time I had legitimately felt bad about my decision to abandon the Hollywood ship. She was a sweet girl and didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I wondered if I should call her but I ignored the urge as soon as it was recognized. What a shit storm that would be.

  Instead, I threw on my coat and my boots and stepped outside. It was a typical Sitka day; fat and beautiful puffy clouds rolled by while the sun glared down enough to make things look bright but not enough to make things feel warm. The thermometer read 52 degrees. My cabin looked down a hill that was speckled along its right side with four similar cabins. At the bottom of the hill, one of the few main roads wound out into a small valley. I could just barely see the outskirts of town from my porch. Towering snow-peaked fjords bordered it all to the right. Seeing the sights, it made me feel like I was practically stealing the cabin at the great rate I had been offered.

  I hadn’t yet purchased a car. It felt like a risky purchase to make, seeing as how I wasn’t yet certain how I was going to get my hands on my money. What I had done was dropped one hundred bucks on a used mountain bike. I spent an afternoon keeping my physique in check and so far, during my five week stint in Sitka, riding the bike was the only form of exercise I was doing. It was a welcome change from the workout regimens my movie roles usually required.

  The bike was a great way to enjoy the scenery and just slow down. I think that if I had a car, I wouldn’t have appreciated Sitka quite as much. Sure, it made grocery shopping a pain (I had to pay a teenage kid ten dollars to deliver my purchases to my cabin), but it was worth it.

  I hopped on the bicycle and pedaled out of the yard. I stuck to the side of the unmarked road that led to my cabin, coasting slowly down the hill towards town. I still wasn’t used to the goatee or the shaggy hair, so it still made me want to smile as all of the hair tickled my face when it ruffled in the breeze.

  I made my way down to the main stretch of road that lead into town. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going. I just needed to get out and didn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to trust myself on one of my long reflective hikes out into the wilderness. By the time town crept into view, I thought that I’d maybe ride Tanner’s Fresh Fish down next to the pier to get something for dinner. Maybe I’d swing by a Red Box and see if there were any good movies I hadn’t seen yet. Anything to occupy my mind.

  My attention was momentarily taken off of the Alaskan crab I had envisioned for dinner when I saw a quaint display in the window of a business I had passed several times but had not yet stepped foot into. The display showed a new type of hiking boot that, I hate to admit it, made me want a pair. It was surrounded by a well done set-up of AstroTurf and what looked to be a campfire made of Styrofoam. I peered beyond the display and into the rest of the store to find that it looked right up my alley. The vinyl lettering on the window read The Pine Way and from what I could tell, it was the perfect stop for my future hiking expeditions.

  I walked into The Pine Way and felt right at home. It was more than the goods they were selling, though; it was in the way the place was decorated and arranged, right down to the faint smell of pine in the air. It might have come from the huge pine beams that ran across the length of the roof. I wondered how I had never thought to stop here in the few times I had ventured down to this end of town. It was one of those places that you passed unless you were really looking for it.

  There were three other customers in the store; two wandering the aisles and one at the register paying for their selections. An attractive woman with long, raven hair and a pleasant attitude was behind the register, ringing up the purchases. I made my way over to the small selection of shoes in the far corner of the store, beside a small fireplace that looked as if the entire store had been built to accommodate it. It really was a quaint and truly unique little place.

  The pair of boots I was wearing were comfortable enough, but they left a lot to be desired when it came to long hikes in the woods. I wanted something that had the build and comfort. I turned around to ask the woman behind the register if they had them in my size. When I did, I collided with the woman—already on her way over to be of assistance—and nearly knocked her down.

  I dropped the shoe and caught her by her shoulder as she let out an oof sound. She looked startled and I could feel my face flush with embarrassment.

  “Shit! I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you and—,”

  “No, no, it was me. I didn’t—,”

  “I need to watch where I’m going because I—,”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  We spent five seconds speaking over top of one another as we regained our composure. She gave me a beautiful composed smile and said, “Let’s try that again. How may I help you?”

  I looked over her pretty face for a moment, taking in the bright green and golden browns that made up the hazel in her eyes, and smiled. “I need these,” I said, bending down to pick up the display show I had dropped, “in a size thirteen and a half.”

  She twisted her head as she looked at the boot and nodded. “I think we have that size in the back. Let me go check.”

  “Thanks.”

  I watched her walk to the register and then through a small doorway, momentarily taking in her nice figure. While she was gone, I continued to look around. The place was pretty cool, filled with tents, rock climbing gear, survival equipment, and even a selection of knives. A gun catalog sat on the register with a plaque that read WE CAN ORDER ANY MAKE AND MODEL FOR YOU AFTER YOU SHOW SOME I.D. God, Alaska. If the northwest and Texas had a kid, Alaska would be it. I smiled. This place suited me well.

  A small rack of granola and energy bars by the counter and selected a few that were on sale: GoBars, they were called.

  I stood at the counter when the woman came back through the door. Now that I was actually seeing her through clear eyes and not ones shaded by embarrassment, I noticed that she was attractive in a not-made-up sort of way. I know that most women hear that and t
hink it’s a thinly veiled insult, but the woman was legitimately cute. It was refreshing to see natural beauty after having been exposed to chicks with Botox and tons of makeup for so long. While Aubrey hadn’t fallen to Botox yet and used makeup sparingly, there had been that untouchable Hollywood beauty about her. The looks of this woman as she brought me a box of shoes, was on a different level. Beautiful, long inky hair, and her skin had a slight olive tone to it.

  She caught me staring, so I blinked and pretended like I was looking at one of the large pictures on the wall behind the register. There was one of a mist shrouded mountainside and another of two men hiking up an incline.

  “Thirteen and a half,” she said. “Last pair.”

  “Are they good boots?” I asked.

  She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have no idea. These are made specifically for men. But it’s one of the best sellers across the US.”

  “Sounds good enough for me.”

  She started ringing up the GoBars and the shoes and then gave me a curious look. For a moment, I was afraid that she had pegged me. She had seen through the goatee and the hair, past the Bruins cap and the flannel, and recognized Devlin Stone. Panic bloomed in my chest, hot like fire. But then she gave her cutesy little smile again and I realized that he hadn’t notice me at all.

  “You’re one of those eco tourists, right?” she asked.

  “Um…sort of.”

  “I only ask because I’ve never seen you before. Sitka isn’t a very big place, so the local faces get familiar. Yours, though, I’m not familiar with.”

  “I’m a new addition,” I said. “I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be in town. The last few days, I’ve been starting to think it might be for the long term.”

  “Sitka can do that to a person.” She smiled as she put the GoBars in a paper sack. “I take it you’ve discovered the trails all back in the woods?”

  “Yeah. I’m staying at one of the cabins on Moose Hill.”

  She nodded and reached under the counter. She offered me a brochure that folded out into a miniature map. “This is just about every trail you’ll find around here. It’s easy to get lost if you take the wrong turn, so I always pass these out to the newbies.”

  “Thanks,” I said, taking the bag that she had placed the power bars in. “If this thing ever saves my life, I promise I’ll think of you.” I smiled at her.

  Am I flirting? It sure felt like it. And damn, it felt weird… but good.

  She gave me that shy sort of smile again and then extended her hand. “Well, although I am likely not the first, let me welcome you to Sitka. My name is McKinley Blackwell, but folks call me Mac. This is my store.”

  I took her hand and shook it. When I opened my mouth, the name Devlin Stone almost slipped out. “Nice to meet you, Mac. I’m Jack Keith.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said smiling warmly, tucking some of her glossy hair behind an ear.

  “So this place is yours? You own it?”

  “Yeah. The Pine Way has been in my family since the 60s. When my dad passed on seven years ago, I took it over.”

  “It’s an awesome place. If these power bars are any good, I’ll be back.”

  “Or if the shoes aren’t,” she said, nodding to the box I held tucked under my arm.

  “That, too. Have a good day, Mac.” I smiled at her and she returned it with a grin of her own.

  “And you do the same, Jack.”

  I left The Pine Way with a smile on my face. When I made my exit, I tried to coyly look through the display window. Mac was writing something down on a sheet of paper by the register. I grinned. I wasn’t sure why I was so instantly fond of her, but it was a nice feeling.

  As I made my way to Tanner’s Fresh Fish, I saw the float plane. What occurred in my head in that moment was very much like those cartoons where a character gets an idea and a very exaggerated light bulb pops up over their head. I saw the banner on the propeller and as I walked into Tanner’s Fresh Fish, I once again started to furiously try figuring out how I could get to my money without revealing my whereabouts to the rest of the world.

  Mr. Tanner, as always, was sitting behind the counter when I walked in. He saw me when I walked in and instantly smiled. Mr. Tanner had given me quite the lesson on which crab was the best. The old man prattled on and on but he seemed to like it. He reminded me of my grandpa I’d taken my new name from in a way, so I didn’t mind the excessive talking.

  “Jack,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “ I’d like to talk to you about buying that plane.”

  5—Mac

  The idea of actually buying the float plane from Mr. Tanner became more and more of a motivational tool for me. I let two days pass after I spoke to him, making myself wait before I did my creative budgeting to see if I could even afford the damn thing. The hope was that if there was any viable reason that I shouldn’t buy it, I’d come to the realization and talk myself out of it. But forty-eight hours later, I could find no reasons whatsoever. In fact, I wanted that plane more than ever.

  So I went to talk numbers and scheduling with Mr. Tanner. I had one of my part-time workers manage the shop for an hour or so while I went out and started what I hoped would be my path to getting the plane.

  One great thing about The Pine Way is that it is located right in the middle of Sitka’s central hub. This meant that I can walk just about anywhere during the day and not be gone very long. My first stop was going to be to the bank, just to make sure I had everything in order. After an in-depth look at my personal checking account and the store’s account from my home computer, I was pretty sure I’d need a small loan just to have as cushion for a few months. I hated numbers, I hated dealing with money, but it was a necessary step I was going to have to take.

  I walked to the bank, dreading this step in the process. But as it turns out, it was pretty easy. I asked for a loan for $5,000 and submitted the paperwork for a credit check. I was told I’d know something for sure by the end of the day but that, based on my credit history and the performance of The Pine Way, it was basically as good as mine if I wanted it.

  It was great news, but I was still very glad to be out of the banks and headed to the Tanner’s Fresh Fish. Being in an office and sitting behind a desk made me uncomfortable and trapped (especially when it was someone else’s office and desk). I was better when it came to laid back and casual environments.

  I made the half a mile walk between the bank and Tanner’s, passing a few people I knew and giving polite nods as we passed. Instances like these made me wonder if I was too anti-social. When my husband had walked out on me three years ago, he’s taken a lot more than himself; he’d also taken a nice portion of our money, the better car, and my confidence. The one close friend I’d had in Sitka had moved for a better job last year, leaving me in a town I loved dearly, but without anyone in that town to share any time with.

  Of course, it was my fault. A night out for me consisted of heading to Twin Moose Tavern for a glass of wine, getting irritated at the patrons, and then heading home to be by myself. My weekends usually consisted of working on a novel that I had forced myself to start after Husband had left (I referred to him only as Husband because the thought of his name made me nauseous even to this day).

  But maybe this plane would be the start to changing those things about me. If all went as planned, the plane would not only give The Pine Way a huge boost in business, but it would also likely open up my social life. This was not a pitching point that I intended to share with Mr. Tanner, though.

  When I walked into Tanner’s Fresh Fish, Mr. Tanner was behind his counter, wrapping up a purchase for an elderly woman that stood on my side of the counter. I watched him roll a sheet of butcher’s paper around a three large salmon, fascinated with just how quickly and artfully he was able to do it. Once he had taped up the butcher paper, he placed it all in a plastic bag and handed it over the counter. It was refreshing to see an older man that still loved his wor
k, still able to perform his craft with the materials he was comfortable with and not forcefully pushed into technology.

  I waited for the elderly lady to pay for her salmon and then approached the counter. Behind me, the small bell over his door jingled as the woman made her exit.

  “Hey, Mac,” Mr. Tanner said. “What’s up?”

  “I want to buy your plane,” I said with a smile. “I crunched the numbers and am confident that I can make it work. I just wanted to let you know. I can probably be over in a few days with a check for you.”

  “That’s great,” he said. “But I need to tell you that I have one other interested party. I’ve actually had several people ask, but when I shot the price at them, they backed away. But you and this other person seem pretty determined. Looks like I might have something of a bidding war on my hands.”

  I didn’t even bother trying to hide my surprise. “Who is the other person?” I asked, hating the way I sounded. I sounded spoiled and slightly fretted.

  “Now, I don’t think I can tell you that,” Mr. Tanner said with a knowing smile. “I don’t want to start any arguments.”

  “Well, have they offered money?”

  “Yes. In fact, they offered to place a down payment on it until they could bring me the rest of the money. But I told them that there was no need in that.”

  “How will you decide who to tell it to, then?” she asked.

  “I really don’t know,” he said. “Mac, I’d love to just give it to you because I’ve known you for—what? Damn near fifteen years now. But I have to be fair. I may just have to sell it to whoever can come up with the money first.”

  I wanted to be upset with him but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. He was trying to be fair; playing favorites in a business decision was a bad decision. My own father had taught me that a long time ago. Surely a man of Mr. Tanner’s background and stature knew that sage old rule of business, too.