What The Heart Finds

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “Tubs can be a lot of fun,” James chimed in, his eyes bright.

  “Not when you're staying there alone. Or if you need to get somewhere quickly.”

  “So you seemed impressed with all the staff,” Elliott broke in, ignoring his brother's comments.

  “Everyone seemed well trained and efficient. Of course, as the inn gets larger and there are more guests, there will need to be more staff members. Especially one who is always posted at the front.”

  “Yeah,” Elliott said, his eyes far away with some memory. “Emily was off doing something when I arrived. She came scrambling out cursing as she knocked something over.”

  “Yup,” Lena agreed. “that's Emily. I guess right now, there are very few people just randomly showing up so there is no need to constantly man the check-in,” she said, feeling the need to defend Emily.

  Elliott grabbed a stack of papers and handed them toward his brother. “You have some researching to do,” he said, then reached for another, much larger stack, and handed it to Lena. “you too. This should get you pretty prepared for your new job. You'll need to review all of this before you can start.”

  –

  Lena fretted over her clothes for almost an hour. It was so easy for men. They just threw on any old suit and they looked professional, commanding, in control. Was she supposed to wear a pantsuit? Or would a skirt be appropriate as well?

  She eventually settled on black slacks, a tight lightweight white shirt and a suit jacket which she could or could not wear. And heels, with the hopes that it sent the message 'if I can be on my feet in these torture devices for twelve plus hours, you know I got this shit handled'.

  She made her way into the office with a nagging, twisting feeling in her belly. A feeling she was trying desperately to blame on nerves. She took the elevator to one floor below her old office. Stepping out, she saw desks. At least a dozen black desks, six on each side of the room with a low black counter running along the center covered in fax and copy machines. Everything was loud and crazy, people talking and typing at the same time, others yelling across the room at each other.

  Lena turned, looking back toward the elevator as it closed. To the side of the doors was a snack bar with a four burner coffee machine, a sink, and a mini fridge. She looked back out into the room, noticing a few eyes falling on her curiously.

  What the hell was she supposed to do?

  Then an arm linked through hers. “Kinda intimidating, huh?” Hannah asked, smiling a warm, encouraging smile.

  “That's an understatement.”

  “Alright, lets get you to your office first,” Hannah said, leading her past all of the desks toward the back where a half-glass wall was, the bottom a simple black paneling. It spanned the entire length of the room. “God, it's loud out there,” Hannah said, closing the door behind her.

  Lena looked around. There were two desks, one toward each end of the room, facing each other. Windows were floor to ceiling like the ones in hers and Elliott's offices. She looked over toward the second desk, already piled with paperwork, a bag sitting on the chair.

  “Oh,” Hannah said, waving at it. “this is where Elliott threw James. On the rare occasion that he shows up. He figured that it was the most appropriate place for him since he works so closely with acquisitions. You wont see him here much. This is pretty much your office.”

  Lena nodded, looking at her desk, empty except for a computer and a holder with pens. Because the last person to sit there had left. To pursue a wholly impractical dream.

  “Well, I am going to let you settle in. Don't be freaked out,” she said, walking to the door. “everyone out there knows and respects you. And if you have any issues at all, just give me a call.”

  “Thanks Hannah,” she said, meaning it.

  “Don't mention it,” she said, walking out.

  Lena sat down on the office chair, laying her hands out on the clear desk, looking out into the other office. This was what she wanted. This was it. She got everything. She should be ecstatic. Positively beaming. She had worked so hard. She had sacrificed so much. She deserved to feel the pride and joy that was accomplishing a lifelong dream.

  Lena reached for her purse, opening the bottom drawer of the desk and slipping it inside. Then she reached into her purse, unsure what was driving her to do it, into the pocket. She pulled out the red rock, staring at it for a moment, before placing it down on her desk next to the computer.

  She sat there for a long time staring at it. Seeing it as more than a rock. More than a memento from a date. More than the only evidence of her vacation. More than a gift from Eric.

  It represented everything she had been denying herself in the pursuit of a more stable life. It represented all the long-buried dreams. It represented every time she decided to do paperwork instead of making new recipes. It represented every man she never had time for. Every event she never attended. Every trip she never took.

  It represented everything that actually mattered in life.

  Sitting there on the desk. In the office she had wanted. In the building she had devoted her life to.

  And she felt nothing but sadness. A bone deep regret.

  Lena put her head in her hands for a moment, willing herself to pull it together. Put on a brave face. Get up and handle her business.

  She grabbed the rock in her palm and got up. And did just that.

  Twenty-Three

  Eric paced his kitchen, restless. What did he normally do with his free time? Watch movies? Chase women? He ran a hand down his face. He didn't want to do either of those things. What he really wanted to do was forget about Lena. He wanted to have the memory disappear so he could go back to his meaningless pursuits, blissfully ignorant of how hollow they were.

  He sighed, going out and down the stairs. He walked down the street, nodding at everyone who waved at him, half out of guilt for the way they had treated Lena, knowing that he had been her only defender.

  He walked into the bar, grabbing a stool and waiting. Because the kid behind the bar had gotten used to the routine. Whiskey. Straight. And keep it coming. Keep your opinions to yourself.

  He was on his third when someone sat down next to him, shaking his head at the bartender when he went to put a glass in front of him.

  “I don't want a lecture, Liam,” he growled, reaching for his glass.

  “Wasn't going to lecture you.”

  Eric snorted. “That's a first. Then why are you here?” he asked, turning his head, watching his brother.

  “Just to talk,” Liam said, looking uncomfortable at the prospect.

  “Talk. Talk about what?”

  “Lena,” Liam said carefully.

  “There's nothing to talk about. Lena is gone.”

  “Yeah, that's the thing,” Liam said, looking at the back bar. “Normally when a woman is happy to sleep with you and leave... you're in your glory. Makes your life easier. So... what's different?”

  “You know what's different,” Eric grumbled, looking at his drink but not drinking it. He put it back on the bar untouched.

  “How about you say it?” Liam shrugged.

  Eric eyes his brother for a moment. He must really have been behaving badly for taciturn, bookish Liam felt the need to come out and have a conversation with him.

  “I love her,” he said simply, the words feeling heavy on his lips.

  Liam nodded. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “What the hell do you mean what am I going to do about it? There's nothing to do.”

  “There's always something to do,” Liam countered.

  “She's in the city. I'm here.”

  “Yes, because it is impossible to go from one place to the other,” Liam agreed, nodding.

  “My life is here,” Eric said, his voice sounding resigned. “my job, my friends, you. Everything is here for me. And...” he said, looking down. “her job is really important to her. There's no way she's coming
back.”

  Liam didn't speak for a long time, the silence comfortable between them. Eric sighed. There was really no use talking about it. There was nothing he hadn't thought of. Every time he went over it in his head, he came to the same conclusions. He needed to be where he was. She needed to be where she was.

  He had even given thought to proposing a long distance kind of thing. They could travel on alternating weekends. It wasn't that far. And it seemed like she spent all of her time at work anyway. She wouldn't even miss him on weekdays.

  But what kind of future did that leave? An endless amount of miles driven to spend forty-eight hours with each other? There would be no sharing of every day moments. No curling up into each other at night. No roots to plant.

  “You should go,” Liam said finally.

  “Liam,” Eric said, rolling his eyes. “I just told you I cant...”

  “Why?”

  “Because of you and my friends and the shop...”

  “I want you to be happy. And so do your friends. And you're not happy here anymore.”

  “This town would fall apart without a garage.”

  “I'll handle that,” Liam shrugged.

  “What?” Eric asked, looking over at his brother, shaking his head.

  “I'll take over at the garage...”

  “Don't be ridiculous. You have the bookstore.”

  “So what? I can hire someone to help at the bookstore. I can do repairs part time. The gas station takes care of itself.”

  “You hate the garage. You hated every moment of working there after Dad died.”

  “I hated everything,” Liam said, dangerously close to smiling. “I was a miserable teenager.”

  “Yeah and you still make me fix your car now.”

  “You offer,” Liam shrugged. “I want to do this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you would do this for me. Because, in a way, you already have.”

  “It's not the sa...”

  “You gave up any plans for your future to work like a dog to save money for mine. The least I can do is offer up a few days a week so you can finally have what you want.” He paused for a few minutes, slowly getting up off the stool. “Just... think about it. If you really love her and want to be with her, and the only thing that is holding you back is your obligation to me and the town, then here is your way out. Consider it,” he said and walked away.

  Eric pushed his full drink back toward the bartender. Could he possibly do it? Could he leave everything behind? He looked down at the bar, knowing every face in the building, having known them all his life. There was an undeniable amount of comfort in that. He could walk out of his apartment and start a conversation with any person he came across without it being weird or forced.

  He had hardly spent more than a week outside of Stars Landing in his whole life. It was easy to forget that there was an entire world outside their town that so carelessly revolved around itself.

  Could he leave? Could he leave and go somewhere as unpredictable and different as the city? Where literally no one would know who he was. Where starting a conversation with someone on the street would probably land him with mace in the face.

  And what potential did he have for work there? Sure, there might be shops everywhere... but what if they required actual schooling? His experience might not be enough. On top of that, what would it cost to live there? He couldn't presume that he would move in with Lena. He would have to find a place of his own. From what he knew about the city, it would be insanely expensive.

  And he would need to take her out. Show her things. Get her away from work sometimes. Remind her of who she really was. There was no way he was going to let her pay for the dates either. So he needed a good plan. If he was going, that is.

  Then there was the issue of whatever it was that came between them the night before she left. Something had changed, throwing up a wall, and keeping him away. Would she even want to see him?

  Had he somehow inflated the whole issue? Had he just been a fling for her? Just some out of town strange to scratch an itch? Just some stress relief for someone who was obviously too wound up?

  Maybe all the opening up wasn't special. Maybe it was what happened as soon as she stepped out of her work shoes. Maybe it wasn't some special thing she had only shown to him.

  Eric paid his tab and walked out of the bar, walking down Main Street aimlessly.

  “Slow down,” a voice yelled behind him, making him stop cold. Of course. Of course it would be her.

  “Hey Anna,” he said, turning around to face her.

  “You look like hell,” she said, tilting her head to the side. Her hair had grown since she moved to Stars Landing with the awful almost-shoulder length bob. It fell past her breasts, blowing crazily around her face as the wind picked up.

  “Gee,” he said, sinking his hands into his pockets. “nice to see you too, darlin',” he smirked.

  Anna swatted the hair out of her face, holding in a twist at the side of her neck. “It's been forever. How come you don't meet me for junk food dinner at the diner anymore?”

  “Sorry. I haven't...”

  “Been yourself lately,” Anna finished for him. “Come on,” she said, bumping her hip into his. “let's go get some mac & cheese with a side of pizza,” she suggested, leading the way toward the diner.

  Eric slid into the booth by the window across from her, familiar. Easy. They had made a deal shortly after she chose Sam that they would be friends since they had so much in common. And that, no matter what, they would meet up once a week for her impressive selection of junk food at the diner. They'd only missed two weeks in the past two years. Once when Anna had the flu. And... well, the day after Lena left.

  “So how's business?” he asked, accepting the cup of coffee the waitress offered him.

  “Fantastic. How's the week-long hangover?”

  “Yeah, I know. I get it,” he said, sounding surly. He had been told at least five times that he was drinking too much.

  “It's about her, isn't it?”

  Eric fell silent as Anna ordered for them both. “Yeah,” he said after the waitress walked away.

  “What are you going to do about it?” she asked, leaning her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together and resting her head on them.

  “That seems to be the question of the day.”

  Anna smiled, her green eyes looking patient, understanding. “You love her, right?”

  “Yup,” he said, looking down.

  “So you do whatever it takes,” she shrugged.

  Eric chuckled. “Like what you did to get Sam?” he asked, thinking about how he had helped her pick out the dress and lingerie for her to go over to his house and seduce him. How much he had wished it had been him. Any time he thought back on that, he got a pang. But, suddenly, it was just nostalgia... not pain.

  “Hey that was hard for me,” she pouted, wrinkling up her nose at him. “Besides, I mean I essentially had to move from my old town to come here to meet Sam. So it's...” she shook her head. “it's not the same at all I guess.” She smiled and thanked the waitress, quickly digging into her macaroni and cheese. “She seemed to like it here.”

  Eric nodded. “Not as much as she likes her job.”

  “You're going to leave?” she asked, her tone sadder than he had heard it in a long time.

  Eric took a bite of his pizza, the crust too mushy and the sauce too garlic-y. But it was all they had. “Liam offered to take over the shop for me.”

  “Liam? Doing manual labor? I'd pay to see that.”

  “You got him to do it once.”

  “Only because I sort of conned him into it.” She chewed silently for a moment, watching him. “You should do it.”

  “It's not that easy,” he shook his head. “Before she left, things were... weird. Strained.”

  “So you find a way to fix it,” she suggested. She rolled her eyes at him. “What the hell is go
ing on with you? You're Eric-friggen-O'reilly. You are bad news three counties around in all directions. You can charm every woman eighteen to eighty. Get your head out of your ass and go out there and get your woman.”

  Eric smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “Nice language,” he chuckled.

  “I can bring out the curse words when you need a pep talk. So are you going to go?”

  “I'm seriously considering it,” he said, surprising himself. “There's a lot of things I need to line up though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a house and a job and...”

  “Wait... no,” Anna broke in, shaking her head. “you don't need to do any of that. You pack a bag and you drive up there. You track her down and you tell her you love her.”

  “This isn't some rom-com, sweetheart,” he said, smiling. “It doesn't work like that.”

  “But it should,” Anna broke in. “Rom-coms are so popular because that's what women want. It's like... porn for us. We like the stupid kissing in the rain. We like the grand romantic gestures. We want the guy breaking up a loveless wedding. And the guy standing outside our apartment and telling us they made a mistake. Or the guy charging into our work and declaring, in front of everyone, how much they love us. It might sound stupid to you guys, but it's what we all secretly want.”

  “So just... show up in the city with nothing but a change of clothes and hope for the best?”

  “Yeah,” she said, chewing. “What's the worst that could happen? She doesn't want you? So you turn right around and drive back here to lick your wounds.”

  “I'm just worried that there is going to need to be some mending fences before she would consider me again.”

  “If she feels about you like you feel about her...”

  “That's the thing, though. Even if she does... I don't think she would realize it herself, let alone admit it.”

  “So you go charm her socks off. Put on a suit. Go get her flowers or candy. Put some effort into it.” She pushed her empty dishes toward the end of the table. “You know... it seemed like Maude was pushing for this,” she said, her words implying that it must have been a good match.”