Roller Coaster Romance

by Kate Moseman

  She found the front entrance to the Coffee Garden locked, but a gap in the wall of living bamboo gave access to the outdoor garden adjacent to the building. Vanessa climbed through and collapsed on a padded outdoor bench.

  No one will bother me here.

  The thought contained relief and despair in equal measure.

  Exhausted, she stretched out full length, laid her head on her arms, and closed her eyes.

  Her thoughts echoed without cease until—without intending to—she drifted off to sleep.

  She woke to the sound of leaf blowers.

  Had she fallen asleep outside?

  Why was she snuggling a traffic wand?

  Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes to clear her vision. A glance at the sky, visible above the bamboo, revealed a pale hint of the rising sun.

  Vanessa stood up and attempted to tug her clothing into a semblance of respectability.

  It was hopeless.

  Tucking the traffic wand under her arm, she climbed through the bamboo gap the same way she came in.

  Along the street, landscapers busily replanted flowers under the glare of floodlights. No one paid her any mind as she groggily made her way back to Legacy and downstairs to the office.

  She unlocked the door and switched on the lights, then dropped the traffic wand on the counter and fired up the coffee machine. While it brewed, she retrieved her purse and went to the ladies’ room to splash water on her face and apply a little hand cream, lipstick, and pressed powder.

  None of her efforts removed the creases stamped into her cheek by the bench pad.

  Back in the office, she sat down with the first of several cups of coffee, then pulled her resignation letter out and laid it on her desk.

  By the time she heard the office door open, heralding Charlotte’s arrival, she had polished the letter to her satisfaction.

  Charlotte poked her head into Vanessa’s office. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “I had to get some work done,” said Vanessa.

  Charlotte peered at her. “Isn’t that the same outfit you had on yesterday?”

  “This?” said Vanessa, looking down at herself as if this was the first time she’d noticed anything amiss. “I suppose it is.”

  “What did you do last night? Did you go out?” Her eyes widened. “Were you on a date?”

  “No! No dates. Just a late night,” Vanessa explained.

  “What are you working on this early in the morning?”

  Vanessa panicked and turned the letter facedown on her desk. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing,” repeated Charlotte, eyeing the paper. “All right, you don’t have to tell me anything.” She walked away slowly. “I just work here.”

  “Wait,” said Vanessa. “Come back.”

  Charlotte came back so fast she nearly skidded into Vanessa’s office.

  “Sit down,” said Vanessa.

  Charlotte sat.

  “I don’t know how to say this, but … I’m leaving, Charlotte.”

  “You’re what now?”

  “I’m leaving,” said Vanessa.

  “You’re leaving? As in on a jet plane?”

  “More or less.”

  Charlotte blew out her breath and leaned back in her chair. She broke eye contact with Vanessa and examined her nails instead. “Really.”

  Vanessa didn’t know what to say to that.

  Charlotte continued, still refusing to look at Vanessa. “So that’s it, then. You’re gonna waltz right on out of here?”

  “I don’t know if that’s how I would—” Vanessa started.

  “How you would put it?” finished Charlotte. “You want to know how I would put it?”

  Floored, Vanessa simply gestured for Charlotte to continue.

  “You’re the one who told Maribel you’d do your best to be there for her, and now you’re walking out when things get hot?”

  “Charlotte, for all I know”—Vanessa got up, shut the door, sat down, and lowered her voice—“they’ll make me the one who has to do the firing. Isn’t that worse?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “All these people want to do is make a choice without interference. Do they want a union? Do they not want a union? Who knows?” Charlotte threw up her hands. “But it’s not a fair choice when management is throwing everything at them from threats to free t-shirts.”

  “I know that,” Vanessa said, lifting her chin indignantly. “You know what else I know?”

  Charlotte crossed her arms.

  “I know you were copying those names and addresses for the organizing committee. I also know the company was legally required to give the organizers that information as soon as the campaign became official. So I asked myself, ‘Why would Charlotte need to do it secretly?’”

  Charlotte stared at the ceiling as if she were looking for leaks.

  “And you know what? I did my homework and found out the company gave the organizers a pile of useless paper, full of missing information. So you did what you could to help, and I pretended I didn’t see it.” Vanessa placed both hands on her desk for emphasis. “You think I don’t want people to make a choice? You’re wrong. I’ve been fighting to protect that choice since the get-go.”

  Charlotte uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “Then why are you giving up the fight?”

  “Because I can’t win. At this point I can only hurt people.”

  “You’re wrong. At this point you might be the only one left to defend them.”

  They glared at each other.

  “I have to get some work done,” said Charlotte. She stood up and stalked out, slamming the door behind her.

  Thomas

  Thomas, bleary-eyed and fatigued, blessed his stars for landing him at Ghost Factory for the day. The dark interior soothed him, and the visitors found their experience enhanced rather than diminished by his sleep-deprived scowl.

  From his station at the unload area, he had only to keep an eye on the visitors exiting the carriage vehicles. He tread the moving walkway on automatic pilot, placing one foot in front of the other without having to think about it.

  Instead, he thought about the previous night.

  After the fireworks show, he had completed his tasks and stowed away his traffic wand before setting off in a futile search for Vanessa. He’d known it would be almost impossible to track her down if she stayed upstairs in the park, but that didn’t stop him from walking through Legacy, Fantasy, Galaxy, and Discovery just in case, before giving up outside the Coffee Garden and heading home much later than usual.

  He made a mental note to get a large coffee from the cafe on his next break.

  In a way, he was glad he hadn’t found her. He wanted to offer comfort, but he would have died rather than have her feel pressured. He firmly believed that she should do whatever was best for her, and could only hope it would coincide with his fervent wish that she would stay.

  Would she miss the Halloween party? Thomas hoped not. He’d agonized over his costume until—at last—it had finally come together in a way that made him anticipate the party even more.

  Chapter 15

  Vanessa

  On the day of the party, Vanessa locked her office and slung a heavier-than-usual bag over her shoulder. “I’m going to get ready,” she told Charlotte, whose manner had been cool since they clashed over Vanessa’s plan to resign.

  Charlotte didn’t look up. “Suit yourself,” she said.

  At the costume department, Vanessa retrieved an armful of clothing from the pickup window and carried it into the women’s locker room.

  Piece by piece, she traded her clothing for a crew member costume: slacks, shirt, jacket, and finally a wide-brimmed felt hat.

  A red neckerchief remained on the bench.

  She dug in her bag for the pair of scissors she’d pack
ed. Careful not to cut the knot itself, she sliced through the fabric next to the knot, cutting all the way through to the other side. She reached into her bag again, this time for a portable sewing kit and a bit of Velcro.

  Vanessa stitched one piece of Velcro to the back of the knot, and the other to the cut end, adding a few extra stitches to keep the fabric from unraveling and the knot from untying.

  Without removing her hat, she swung the knotted end around her shoulder to meet the other end and pressed the Velcro tabs together.

  Voila.

  At the mirror, she examined her handiwork and smiled. A touch of blush and a swipe of lipstick made her feel fully armored.

  On the walk back to the Legacy office, she carried her head higher. Her spine straightened and her steps rang down the corridor. She reached up to tilt the hat just so before opening the office door.

  This time, Charlotte looked up, disbelief written across her face. “You’re wearing … that?”

  “Yup,” said Vanessa, breezing past Charlotte into her own office, where she pulled open a drawer and retrieved her letter of resignation.

  She turned on the office shredder behind Charlotte’s desk and fed the letter through with a sigh of satisfaction.

  “Did you just … ?” said Charlotte.

  “Yes ma’am, I did.”

  “You’re going to fight the good fight!” said Charlotte. She punched Vanessa playfully on the shoulder.

  “Ow,” said Vanessa, wincing and laughing at the same time. “I’m sure going to try.”

  Thomas

  In the men’s locker room, Thomas pulled out the items he’d carefully hung up in his locker earlier that day. Tonight, he would forego a traditional Halloween costume in favor of something more refined.

  He discarded his Ghost Factory shirt for a lightly patterned silver-gray long-sleeved dress shirt. He shook out a pair of finely woven black slacks before slipping them on, neatly tucking the shirt into the pants. He added a supple leather belt, soft dress socks, and leather dress shoes, followed by a handsome waistcoat to match the slacks.

  For the final sartorial touch, he carefully tied a black silk necktie with an elegant knot.

  His costume remained incomplete without one crucial, signifying accessory. He reached into his locker, pulled out the radio he’d borrowed from Ghost Factory, and clipped it to his belt.

  Thomas checked his appearance in the full-length mirror. Nice.

  The spring in his step propelled him up and out into the park. The setting sun gilded the nearby buildings with light. In such a glorious setting it was difficult not to be optimistic for the future.

  He followed the Legacy Halloween party signs through Discovery to Aquaverse, then bounded up the stairs to the double doors of the Aquarium Room.

  Thomas pushed open the doors and walked through a row of giant sea fans studded with tiny blue bulbs. Their undulating light reflected on a transparent acrylic piano in the center of the room, its keys depressed by an unseen hand as it automatically played a delicate melody.

  A table stood nearby, piled high with seafood of every kind: lobster tails, stone crab claws, and oysters on ice; towering displays of crab legs; peel-and-eat shrimp; and bowls of crab ceviche. A separate table displayed tiers of key lime pie, cheesecake, and petit fours.

  Thomas spotted Charlotte at the bar. She noticed him and raised her glass of champagne in greeting.

  “This is something else,” said Thomas as he signaled the bartender.

  Charlotte sipped from her glass. “Enough to make you vote no on the union?”

  Thomas laughed. “Hardly. But I’ll happily enjoy the attempt at bribery.”

  He collected his own glass of champagne and they moved to the buffet.

  Thomas had picked up a plate and was piling it high with every available crustacean when he noticed Charlotte staring over his shoulder.

  “I’ll catch you later,” Charlotte said. She glided away.

  Thomas turned around to see what Charlotte had been looking at.

  It was Vanessa, dressed head to toe in the Gold Rush costume. She smiled at him from across the room.

  She walked toward him.

  Suddenly, he wished he wasn’t carrying several pounds of seafood. He hastily set down the plate and tried to be subtle about brushing off his hands.

  “Thomas,” she said, almost solemn, but with a hint of mischief in her eye.

  “Vanessa,” he replied. “I like your choice of costume. You look like one of us.”

  “Thank you,” said Vanessa. “And is that a radio I spy on your hip?” She took one step back and looked him up and down.

  He awaited her verdict.

  “You’re dressed as a manager!” she said.

  “Happy Halloween,” said Thomas, and raised his glass to her.

  “Happy Halloween,” said Vanessa. She reached out near his shoulder and felt the shirtsleeve fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s beautiful. I would toast you, but I haven’t hit the bar yet.”

  “Can I get you something?” he asked. He leaned in and spoke quietly. “My treat. For a farewell toast?”

  “About that,” she said. Vanessa drew him aside near the aquarium. “I changed my mind. I’m staying.”

  He wanted to hug her. He wanted to grab her hands and spin in circles like children until they both fell down, dizzy and laughing. Instead, he let his joy shine forth in a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “That’s wonderful news. A celebratory toast is much better than a farewell toast, anyway.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I will have to give you a raincheck for later, though—for now, I must mingle. And you have a plate of seafood to get back to, I think.”

  Vanessa

  Vanessa moved through the crowd, greeting crew members and admiring costumes, until she became too hungry to abstain from the buffet any longer.

  It’s my turn to pile up a plate.

  Fully provisioned, she found Charlotte’s table and sat down. She complimented Charlotte’s radiant green sequined cocktail dress, then fell to cracking crab legs with a practiced hand.

  They chatted amiably, back on solid ground after their temporary falling-out.

  Across the room, Thomas appeared to be telling a story that involved balancing on one leg and gesturing wildly.

  Charlotte followed Vanessa’s gaze. “You’re staring,” she said.

  Vanessa choked on her drink.

  Charlotte laughed. “Vanessa, you are too easy to rile.”

  “I am not,” Vanessa protested. “Besides, this is Destiny Park, not ‘The Dating Game.’”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” said Charlotte.

  “What are you doing with your art lately, Charlotte?”

  “I see you changing the subject. But I’ll let you do it because I love to talk about myself.”

  “Please do,” said Vanessa, with a flourish of her hand.

  “I am still working on my portfolio. Someday—when it’s ready—I’ll submit it to the design department, see if I can get on the art team.”

  “Don’t stop,” said Vanessa. “I’m rooting for you.”

  “Thank you,” said Charlotte.

  Maribel approached the table. “Is this seat taken?”

  “No! By all means, have a seat,” said Vanessa. “I love your witch costume.”

  “Thank you,” said Maribel. She set her plate and glass on the table, removed her pointed hat, and sat down.

  “That reminds me,” said Vanessa. “I have something to show you. Grab my neckerchief.”

  Maribel looked at Vanessa like she’d gone mad.

  “I haven’t lost my mind. Yet. I promise. Go on, give it a pull.”

  Maribel reached toward Vanessa, seized the fabric, and tugged on it.

  It came away in Maribel’s hand. Sh
e laughed. “What’d you do?” she said.

  “I altered this one. It’s a prototype,” Vanessa said.

  “I like it,” said Maribel. “Now you just have to get Mr. Destiny on board.”

  The three women settled into pleasant conversation punctuated by occasional refills of their glasses and plates.

  “Oh, my,” said Vanessa, staring past Charlotte.

  “What?” said Charlotte. She whipped around to see what Vanessa was looking at.

  Dirk marched through the rows of sea fans, dressed like a Prussian nobleman, complete with dress military jacket, gold epaulets, a sash, and a crown.

  Crew members were already crowding around to admire his choice of costume, blocking Vanessa’s view.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Charlotte and Maribel. “I’ll be back.” She pushed back her chair and stood up, determined to greet Dirk and take a closer look at his Halloween get-up.

  “Are you a … prince?” Vanessa said, joining the crowd that had formed around Dirk.

  “Prince Dirk, at your service.” He bowed stiffly, from the waist.

  “That’s quite a costume,” Vanessa said. It was so over the top that she almost found it endearing, in a weird way, despite her dislike for him. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time.

  She withdrew from the group and took a turn about the room, soaking in the beauty of the undersea-themed lighting and the flashes of silver from the fish in the aquarium. The sound of the self-playing piano mingled with the chatter of crew members and the clink of glasses and silver.

  As the night progressed, enough of the crew members partook of the cash bar to loosen their inhibitions. Laughter grew loud and stories more outlandish as Vanessa circulated through the crowd.

  A commotion in the center of the floor drew her attention. Someone figured out how to shut off the piano, and someone sat down to play.

  The crowd cheered as Dirk launched into a spirited performance.

  Vanessa watched from a distance. Absorbed in the strange spectacle, she didn’t notice Thomas standing quietly next to her until she caught the scent of pine.