by Karey White
“Thanks, Seth.” It came out in a whisper. She felt small and lost. His hand was warm on her shoulder, and at the moment, she really wanted to lean into him and have him wrap his arms around her. She missed being hugged like that. She imagined he was good at it.
He dropped his hand. “You’re welcome. And I’ll try not to smile so much.” He attempted to look stern.
She had to smile again. He said good night once more and got up to go. He turned off the light and climbed the stairs, leaving her there in the dark.
Chapter Five
Oh boy. Ohhh boy. Wren pulled at the long white apron she wore and steadied herself.
“Ready?” Erik, a whiskered man wearing the same apron and black sweatshirt she did, gave her a you-can-do-this look, and heaved.
“Ohhhhh...” Wren held her hands out and caught the large salmon, gripping the leathery scaled skin and bringing it into her chest. She let out a breath of relief as applause rang out around her in the brisk, sea-smelling air.
“There’s my girl!” Dot shouted from the other end of the counter as she wrapped up crab legs under Charlie’s supervision.
Wren shivered and placed the salmon on a piece of paper. She lifted it to the scale, a smile etched into her face. Sam rang up the sale, and Wren handed the bundled fish to the happy customer.
“Well done,” Sam said and called behind her. “Seth? You come around front with me and work the crowd.”
“Yes, sir.” Seth followed him around to the front of the seafood display as Sam turned back to Wren. “You catch. Just like that, okay?”
“Just like that,” Wren said, and laughed nervously.
Today, she, Seth, and Dot were employees of the famous Pike Place Fish Market, throwing fish with Erik, Charlie, and Sam. After a brief training and shouts of confidence in their new and temporary employees, the men had passed out uniforms and had gone to work.
“Wren, catch!”
Seth sent a silvery fish her way as the customer snapped a picture. She reached out and caught it. It slipped, but she caught it again, and a cheer went up from the milling shoppers.
“Just like your Grandpa, eh?” Sam slapped Seth on the back. “Today we’re doing this for Grandpa Billy!” Seth smiled at Wren, and another customer stepped up to ask about some lobster.
“I think I may be a fishmonger in my next life,” Dot said as she hurried past with a basket full of shellfish. “Who knew?” Wren watched her as Dot, smiling, poured the shellfish into a pail to be weighed. This morning, Dot had met them at the breakfast table with bloodshot eyes and a headache. She’d been crying. When she’d suggested that they go without her, the two of them went to work with Excedrin and bacon and eggs. Then Wren had pulled out the big guns: Is that what Billy would have wanted?
Wren placed the fish she’d caught on the scale, and Charlie helped her ring it up.
Yes. This was fun. And Gramps would have loved it.
Later that afternoon, they left the fish market with bags of fresh halibut and king crab legs. They’d had their picture taken with the crew and were promised it would be framed and hung in Gramps’ name. Wren was pretty sure that Pike Place Fish Market would always be one of her favorite places in the world.
The air was cool and wet as they made their way down a series of staircases, pausing at shops along the way. After their hard work, the world slowed down, even with all the bustle around them. The sights and smells of this boho-city culture drew her in.
They reached the large parking lot under the freeway and walked to the car. But Seth only put the fish in the trunk and locked it up again.
“Where are we going?” she asked, as Dot followed him without question.
“To the Market Theater.”
“Are we going to see a movie?”
“No, it’s an improv theater.”
Wren stopped in her tracks. Karaoke was one thing, but improv? Uh, Gramps?
Seth turned and smiled. “Don’t worry; it’s closed today.”
“Oh.” She continued to walk, relieved. “Then why are we going?”
Dot was digging in her purse. “There’s something at the theater I’ve always wanted to see.” She pulled out a small, brightly colored package. “Here, have some gum.”
Wren hesitantly took the package of Hubba Bubba Max Mystery Flavor Bubble Gum. Dot was full of surprises, but this wasn’t the kind of gum Wren expected a seventy-year old woman to have in her purse. Still, they’d been working for hours in a fish market, and the garlicky pork steamed buns they’d bought from a vendor clear back at lunchtime probably hadn’t helped her breath any. She took a small brick of the bubble gum, thanked Dot, and popped it in her mouth.
After Seth took a piece, Dot took two pieces and shoved them in her mouth. Seth didn’t seem to find this unusual.
Just before they reached the theater, they turned down an alley and stopped.
“Wha—?” Wren scrunched up her face, not sure what she was looking at.
“Oh my,” Dot said. “It’s sort of beautiful, isn’t it?”
Seth chuckled. He took out his piece of gum, surveyed the massive theater wall in front of them, chose a spot above him and stuck his gum between blue and green wads. He pulled at the sides a bit until it resembled a little sun. He stepped back and assessed his work.
“It’s... it’s bubble gum. Chewed-up bubble gum.” Wren looked at Seth. “What is this?”
“You just said.” He opened his arms wide. “A wall of chewed-up bubble gum in every color you can think of.”
Wren stared at the rainbow of blobs covering every inch of the alley wall in some Willy Wonka version of graffiti. Dot was already getting to work on the piece she’d been chewing, rolling it into a snaky shape.
“How long has this been here?” Wren asked.
“I don’t know. Years?”
“And they let people do this?”
“Yep. I think they tried scraping it off a few times, but people kept sticking their gum here and started showing up to take pictures. So they just let it grow.”
“That’s... absolutely disgusting.”
Seth laughed and nodded. “Agreed.”
Dot was smashing her snaky pieces over some old wads in an intricate way. Seth and Wren walked over.
“There,” she exclaimed in complete satisfaction. “What do you think?”
It read, in brilliant orange Hubba Bubba bubble-gumminess, BILLY.
Wren nodded and pulled out her gum. She worked at it a bit, then stuck an X and O just above his name. “There’s a kiss and hug for you, Gramps.”
“Perfect.” Dot said.
“Gross,” Wren said.
Seth laughed.
Dot passed around wet-naps from her purse.
As Seth took pictures, Wren felt the silliness of this wall, right next to the heavy fact that Gramps would have been here, should have been here, instead of her, plastering his own wad of bubble gum and smiling with his arm around Dot.
“What would your grandpa have thought of this?” Seth nodded toward the wall.
Wren faced the wall, and Dot linked her elbow with her own.
“He would have thought it was unsanitary and disgusting—”
Dot chuckled.
Wren finished. “—and incredibly human. He would have loved it.”
Dot nodded her approval. “Let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”
Chapter Six
Friday’s bucket item was a hike.
At least, Wren thought it was a hike.
“This is what you meant when you said I probably didn’t need a swimsuit?” Wren glared at Seth. She had stopped in her tracks after Dot explained the actual destination for the day.
Seth grimaced.
Wren dropped her backpack and turned to Dot. “This can’t be on Gramps’ bucket list. I’m pretty sure my grandpa went skinny-dipping. He walked around the house in his boxers. Swimming naked was second nature to that man.” She folded her arms, suddenly very cold after their four-and-a-half-mile wa
lk through some of the most breathtaking rainforest she’d ever seen. The only rainforest she’d ever seen.
“Actually, Billy did skinny-dip a time or two,” Dot said. “But I never have. This is my addition to the list. The website calls it a ‘wilderness experience.’”
“Well then, I don’t have to do it!”
“You don’t have to do any of it.” Dot put her hand on her hip. “But Billy’s twist on this particular activity was that he’d never been skinny-dipping with me.”
Wren’s jaw dropped. She covered her mouth and turned away. “Ew,” she whimpered.
Seth chuckled, then it grew into a laugh.
Wren picked up her backpack and marched past him to the entrance of the Goldmyer Hot Springs “wilderness experience.”
“At least I’m not skinny-dipping with my own grandma,” she muttered as she passed.
Seth shut up.
“I’ll have you know, young lady,” Dot said, following her. “That I’m in pretty fair shape for someone my age. Better swimming naked with me than some unwashed, hairy backpacking stranger. We’ve got the resort to ourselves.”
Wren turned. “Of course we do! It’s February!” She continued marching, noting the mounds of snow off the trail. I am not over-reacting, she told herself.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” Dot said. “You’ve got a nice young body.”
Wren spun again. She dropped her voice. “It so happens that I like to keep this nice young body covered when I’m in mixed company.”
Dot, who had halted, pursed her lips. “Well... that’s no fun.”
Wren reached for something to say in response but couldn’t think of one dang thing. Finally she let out a yell, turned again, and kept marching.
“Nobody’s making you do anything,” Dot called after her.
Sure, Wren thought. Nobody but Gramps. And time. Precious, elusive time.
Several minutes later, Wren followed the rough-hewn steps from the main building to the hot pools, the soles of her feet cold on the worn wood. She could see steam rising into the trees. The ethereal beauty of the place was not lost on her, but thoughts of what she was about to do, and the goose bumps on her skin, definitely distracted her. She bit her lip, shivering, and as she came up on the pool, glanced around cautiously.
Seth and Dot sat in opposite sides of a hot pool veiled with steam drifting off the water.
They both looked her way. She stood there wearing a gray Pike Place Fish Market t-shirt pulled down as far past her purple Fruit-of-the-Loom hipster panties as possible, clinging to a folded towel.
Seth’s mouth opened and then shut as he met her warning gaze. He looked away quickly.
“Awfully pretty place you picked, Grandma,” he said, studying some bushes topped with snow.
Dot splashed him, and he blinked. “It’s a lot warmer in the water, Wren,” she said.
Wren believed her, and it was the only reason she moved her feet to the edge of the pool. Without looking at either of them, she dropped her towel and lowered herself in, quietly sighing. Her feet burned like hot pokers at first but then acclimated along with the rest of her. Her goose bumps faded, and she nearly slipped all the way under but chose to sit on the underwater stone bench instead.
The t-shirt floated around her, so she pulled it down straight.
“There, now, isn’t that better?” Dot asked. “I may never leave. You know, it’s quite freeing.”
Wren glanced up at Dot, who sat, shoulders just above the water, steam floating around her. Tiny drips clung to the ends of Dot’s short hair, lit up by the sun filtering through the trees. She looked pleasantly rosy and hydrated.
“It’s not exactly swimming though,” Dot said. “I’ll have to go to the lake or something this summer. But for February, it’s the best we could do.”
“Grandma, you can’t go taking off your swimsuit at the lake. They have rules.”
“I know that. I’ll just... have to be stealthy.” Dot grinned and winked at Wren.
Wren fought a smile.
Seth ran a hand over his face and shook his head.
“What?” Dot challenged. “It’s a privilege of growing old. To do what you need to do. I don’t want to be dissatisfied with my life when I die. I want to be content.”
“I imagine you will be,” Seth answered.
She splashed him again, and he sputtered.
“What was that for?”
“Don’t imagine me dead. It gives me the willies.”
Wren laughed. It felt odd to laugh about dying.
Dot lifted her hands out of the water, holding them in front of her as they dripped. She looked at them, front and back. “You know, the human body is an incredible thing. So intricate. So wonderful, if you think about it. And so strong. And then, whether it’s time or... or illness, things go south. Strength. Health. Sight.” She looked up at the trees. “And when those things are gone, you realize you once had your chance. You once had strength. The guts. And you wonder...” She met Wren’s gaze. “You wonder if you’ll ever get it back. If you’ll have another chance.”
“You’ve still got tons of guts, Grandma,” Seth said.
Dot looked at her grandson. “I know I do. I know. The ability to do something with all these guts, though... that’s what I’m racing with, Seth. That’s the race.”
Wren stared at her hands just under the water. There wasn’t anything her grandpa couldn’t do. She’d always been able to ask him about anything, and he’d know; he’d experienced it, or something like it. But what did she know? Would she be able to answer somebody’s every question? Was she satisfied with her life? Or would she just...
She took a deep breath and lowered herself under the silky water. She tugged and pulled and came up, blinking, her t-shirt in her hands. Dot was right. The hot water on her skin, the chilled air on her shoulders. It was freeing. She leaned against the stone wall and closed her eyes, letting her hair float around her, her t-shirt in a ball on the rock behind her.
She smiled, breathing in the winter air.
Chapter Seven
“I’m sorry I yelled,” Wren said.
“That’s okay. I told you the list wasn’t for the faint of heart.” Seth drove, and Dot slept soundly in the back. After a good long soak, they’d hiked five miles back to the car and were now headed back to Marysville. Seth had asked her to talk to him to keep him from nodding off.
“Yeah, you warned me. I was tired and... and caught off guard, I guess.”
“Understandable.”
She looked down at the sweatshirt Seth was letting her borrow for the trip home. Her t-shirt was still in a frozen ball in the trunk of the car. “Any wardrobe issues I need to know about for tomorrow?”
“You’ll need something you can move around in.”
“Move around like playing ping-pong? Or move around like swinging from a trapeze? Please say ping-pong. Or shuffle board. Am I buying cabana wear? Please?”
He grinned, reached over, and squeezed her hand. In that quick, unthinking moment, a thrill shot up her arm. They both glanced down, and he quickly let go. She turned to her passenger-side window to hide her blush of embarrassment. “So, when do things start in the morning?”
He cleared his throat. “Later. You can sleep in. And as far as clothes go, something nice would be good.”
“How nice? I have jeans and t-shirts, remember?”
He looked at his sweatshirt on her. “Medium-nice?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you please just tell me what we’re doing and drop me off at a department store or something that’s still open?”
A few minutes later, he parked the car in front of a Kohl’s. Dot snorted from the back seat. He turned to face Wren, and she peeked at him.
“What?” she said quietly, so as not to wake Dot. “You have to tell me what I need.”
His brow lifted. “What you need?” His very blue eyes studied her face.
“What I need...” she stammered a little an
d looked away. She checked the door of the glove box to make sure it was still secure. “What I need is to know what to wear.” She folded her arms in her lap. “For tomorrow.”
He sat back in his seat and rubbed his forehead. “Yes. Tomorrow... we’ll be traveling. You need something rugged and warm. And then we’ll be dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“With lessons.”
“Lessons?”
“Yes.”
“What kin—”
“That’s all you get.”
She sat back and considered. “It’s not square dancing, is it?”
He chuckled but said no more.
“Well, thanks. That helps a little.” She picked up her purse and opened the door, but he rested one hand on her arm. She turned. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry you felt... pressured. Back there at the hot springs. It meant a lot to Dot that you joined us.”
She shrugged. “Thanks. I’m over it.” She turned to go, but he still touched her arm. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to let you know that it’s...”
She frowned. “What?”
He swallowed. “It’s not square dancing.”
“Oh. Well, good. I won’t buy a poofy skirt, then.”
“Very wise.” He removed his hand, and she got out of the car. She hurried into the department store, her arm still warm from his touch.
She found the women’s clothing department and glanced around. “Oh, no.”
All over, hanging from the ceilings, plastered on the signs and posters, were hearts. Big, red, pink, repeating hearts. She checked her phone and groaned.
Valentine’s Day. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. She’d completely spaced it. Not that she had any... Valentine to speak of. She glanced toward the car. But Dot... Dot and Gramps had picked this week. And she was here instead. Not what Dot had probably imagined. Ugh. And she’d been so awful today. And Seth...
Seth had been trying to clue her in without it being uncomfortable. She checked the time on her phone. The store closed in half an hour. She called her mom.
“Hello? Wren?”
“Hey, Mom, I need your help.”