by Mia Madison
All in all, it was my first quiet moment since arriving in Zurich. It was relaxing, refreshing, and beautiful, and I wished I had someone to share it with. Someone other than a pair of ducks who were eyeing my bread from a short distance away.
If only Claire hadn’t had to leave. If only Parker were the way he used to be when we were kids. He used to take us places. To the park. Out for ice cream. Even after he joined the army, he’d visit us whenever he got leave. In college, he’d occasionally show up out of the blue even though his school was a five-hour drive away. Then he’d take us both to dinner.
That was one side of him, and it was preferable to when he was being bitter about his family. I don’t know when it had started, but Parker considered himself to be the black sheep of the family, and from what I’d seen, Mr. and Mrs. Grant had sometimes agreed with that assessment. Certainly Mrs. Grant’s mother had. That thought made me wince. She wasn’t the nicest old lady, but I sincerely hoped for Claire and her mother’s sake that she was doing okay.
As I ate the bread—ignoring the ducks since I didn’t know the rules about feeding wildlife here—I thought about another side of him, one I hadn’t seen too often: the soldier.
I’d seen him in uniform a few times, such as on the day he came home on leave. He always looked amazing in his uniform, so masculine and strong and handsome. Even when he was in normal clothes, his posture was ramrod straight and he carried himself with confidence. Since that time, I’d seen glimpses of the soldier in him when he went for a run, moving in a disciplined stride. He still kept himself in excellent shape.
And he could be protective. Once, when a guy had dumped Claire the middle of a party in front of all of her friends, Parker had nearly gone ballistic. Only Claire’s pleading had kept him from finding her ex and beating him to a pulp. And Parker had reacted pretty much the same way when he found out that a teacher had accused me of cheating, when I hadn’t.
Suddenly, I remembered him smoking the other day. That was probably a holdover from the soldier side of him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t last long.
Shaking my head, my lips curled into a half smile. One thing that could fairly be said about Parker is that he always kept you guessing. He was sweet when you were expecting sarcasm. Moody when you were expecting cheerfulness. But somehow… he was always there when Claire or I had needed him.
Until now.
That thought darkened my mood, and I brushed the crumbs off my lap with a few angry sweeps of my hand, scowling when the ducks took that as an invitation to waddle on over and help themselves.
As the original pair of mallards plus their friends scavenged near my feet, I thought about it a bit. Did I really need Parker? Sure, I wanted to share this trip with him. But I could do it on my own if I had to, right? Mrs. Grant had given me all the information. And I was supposed to be smart. So what if I’d never traveled overseas before? Never navigated a city in which English wasn’t the primary language? Never taken a high-speed train?
Maybe I could spend the rest of the day trying to figure everything out. I’d have to pass through the massive train station to get back to the hotel anyway. While I was there, I could see if I could find the right platform for tomorrow when we—or maybe just I—headed to Lucerne.
Yeah. I’m pretty sure I could do that.
Parker
“Hello?” I knocked on the door of the room Lanie had shared with my sister, until recently. The door wasn’t all the way closed, and suddenly, I was worried. “Lanie, are you in there?”
“Yes.”
I took her single syllable to mean “come in.” As I pushed the door opened, I frowned. “You shouldn’t leave that open. Anyone could walk in here.”
“Except you.” Lanie was standing by the closet, taking a shirt off of a hanger and folding it up. She was also confusing the hell out of me.
“What do you mean? Didn’t I just walk through your door?”
“This time, yes. But you seem perfectly fine keeping your distance for the rest of this trip.”
“What?” As I watched, she crossed to her bed and set the neatly folded shirt on top of a small stack of clothing. It wasn’t until then that I noticed she had her suitcase open on Claire’s bed.
“It doesn’t matter now.” She picked up a packet of papers from the desk. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“All of the tickets and information you’ll need for the rest of the trip.”
“Why don’t you keep it? You’re more organized than me. I thought we had one more full day in Zurich, but since you’re packing, clearly I was wrong.”
“You weren’t wrong.” She was still trying to press the papers into my hand, but I wasn’t going to take them—at least not until I knew what was going on.
Lanie sighed, and tossed the packet on the bed. “As soon as it’s morning—morning in the US, I mean—I’m calling the travel agent and arranging for a flight home.” She went back to the closet and pulled a skirt off of a hanger.
The look on her face reminded me of when she was a little. Whenever she and Claire had watched a movie with something sad in it, like Bambi, for instance, she’d tighten the muscles in her face, attempting to keep from crying. It often hadn’t worked, but that didn’t stop her from trying.
I walked over to her, took the skirt out of hands, and pulled her over to the desk. I held the chair out for her, and when she sank down into it, I sat across from her on her bed. “Why?”
“Because I can’t do this on my own.”
“Can’t do what?”
“This. Travel around a foreign country.”
“Why not? A hotel is a hotel.”
She glared at me, an unexpectedly fierce sight from a face that was normally so open and earnest. Had she been upset this morning at breakfast? I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t the best at figuring these things out.
“It’s also figuring out how to get around a country which has signage in three languages I don’t speak. It’s dealing with all these expensive restaurants and shops. And it’s the trains.”
“I thought you were excited about the trains.”
Her face fell even more. “I was. But I went to the train station today to see if I could find the platform we’d leave from tomorrow. Spoiler-alert: I couldn’t. Not even after an hour of trying. That station is huge, and so crowded. There are over sixty platforms—sixty! I kept getting bumped into, and I couldn’t find anyone to ask questions to, and then I couldn’t find the way back to the hotel…”
She paused, and took a deep breath. I could see tears threatening to overflow her lower lashes. Blinking them back, she said, “I just… I can’t do this on my own.”
I wanted to hold her in my arms, but I was afraid that if I started down that path, I wouldn’t be able to stop. “You’re not on your own.”
“Yes, I am.
“Am I that bad of company?”
“You’re not company. Company is present. You seem to want to be a million miles away. From the Grants, from Claire, from me.”
Shit. Only the first item on that list of three was true.
Lanie’s face had changed now—from despair to frustration. Not sure if that was a step in the right direction, but I’d rather she be mad at me than downtrodden in general.
“Ever since we landed, you’ve made it clear you’d rather smoke with strangers instead of hanging out with us. And drink with strangers. And with pretty women who light cigarettes for you.”
Whoa. Where had that last part come from? But it was obvious she was upset, and that was my fault. But how could I explain that I wasn’t avoiding her when that wasn’t entirely true? I was a life-long bastard, that much I knew. But if I wasn’t careful around someone as sweet, beautiful, and innocent as Lanie, I’d sink to new level of shitty that even I couldn’t condone.
On the other hand, I couldn’t stand to see her hurting. “I’m sorry. It’s just second nature to me to try to avoid family events.”
She stared at me. “Th
en why did you come on a family vacation?”
It was a good question—one that I didn’t want to get into right now. “Hey, it’s a free trip to Europe.” She nodded, but I could tell that she didn’t entirely buy my glib answer.
Lanie sighed. “So, since you ditched me this morning, does that mean you consider me family?”
“No.” The syllable came out harsher than I intended, and she looked away. Crap, I’d hurt her. But shit, the things I’d been thinking lately—they weren’t the things you thought about family. And to me, calling someone family wasn’t a compliment in my world. I tried to explain that second point to her.
She nodded, but she still looked hurt.
“Look, it’s not you,” I said, falling back on clichés. “When you mentioned the museum tour this morning, every brain cell I didn’t drown in alcohol yesterday sat up and said: that sounds like something my stepmother planned. And then something inside me rebelled. You may have noticed that being around my dad and stepmother don’t exactly bring out the best side of me.”
Lanie didn’t say anything, but she actually made eye contact for a brief moment. Small victories seemed to be the only kind I was going to get right now. It would be too much to think I could make her smile. But what the hell, I’d try anyway. “Besides, it sounded really boring.”
“We could’ve gone to that scenic overlook instead.”
I ignored that. “Museums are like schools, and I find both institutions sleep-inducing.”
“The building was magnificent. And… and the ancient coins were interesting.”
“And the tour?”
“It was… it was a bit on the boring side.”
I laughed, and though she ducked her head, I thought I saw at least a half smile. “Guided tours always are. Guided anythings always are. Much more fun to explore on your own. Or with a friend.” That was the truth, and I was damn well going to remember that. Though Little Lanie had grown into an amazingly gorgeous woman, with an adult body that kept me up at night, she was still inexperienced and insecure. And if I kept my distance now, when she was feeling uncertain and overwhelmed, then I was an even bigger bastard than everyone thought.
“It’s hard to set out on your own when you can’t even figure out the trains.” Lanie’s voice had a note of pouting in it, and I had to bite back a grin.
“You’re not used to failing, are you?”
She actually seemed to be contemplating my rhetorical question. “No, not really.”
“Well, I happen to be an expert at it. I could give you lessons if you want.”
Lanie didn’t laugh, but at least I’d wrangled a smile out of her. Let’s see if I could keep things headed in that direction. “How about we try to figure it out together?” The pleased expression on her face made me feel even more like a jerk this morning for not going with her. I nodded in the direction of her backpack, which was sitting on the desk. “You have all the travel info, right? Let’s go through it and try to figure it out together. We could even go back to the train station and do a dry run for tomorrow’s trip to Lucerne.”
“I’m not even sure I can find it again,” she said, but she opened her bag and pulled out the travel folder.
“So? Two heads are better than one… even when one of those heads is in a genius. Besides, I know who we can ask if we have problems.”
“The travel agent? But it’s still the middle of the night back home.”
“Not the travel agent. I know a guy. He’s my secret weapon, actually. Knows everything. Never sleeps.”
The puzzled look on her face was absolutely adorable. “Who’s that?”
“I call him… Google.”
Lanie
“Should we ask someone if this is the train to Lucerne?” I asked nervously as Parker lifted my suitcase up onto a shelf at the end of the train car.
“We downloaded the app. We double-checked the platform number. We saw the destination on the front of the train. I think we can feel pretty sure we’re in the right spot.”
“But what if we’re not?”
“Then we’ll end up in another beautiful place instead of Lucerne.”
Oh. That was a good point. Although I hoped we ended up in Lucerne because our hotel reservation was there. I followed Parker down the aisle until we found a pair of seats in the middle of the car that faced each other. “Do you mind riding backwards?”
“Nope.” He hoisted his olive green duffle up to the rack above our heads as I admired the way his biceps bulged underneath his black shirt.
Hastily, I sat down in the window seat facing forward before he could catch me watching him.
Parker sat down across from me, his long legs stretched out at an angle so that I had room for my feet. Fighting the temptation to stare at him again, I instead looked out the window at the train the next track over. “Do you know why some trains are marked SBB and others CFF?” That was one of the things that had confused me yesterday.
“I think that’s the abbreviation for the Swiss Railway Station in different languages. I’ve seen a third one, too. F-something-something, I think.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
“Even us non-geniuses get it right sometimes.”
I shook my head, silently disagreeing with him. He teased me about being smart, but doing well in school was a different kind of smart. He was smart about the world. And confident. Yesterday he’d embarked on a crash course on learning the train system here. We’d toured the train station. Found information online Talked to people in the station. When he wanted to, he had an easy-going manner that people responded to. Not just female people—all people.
The train started forward with a lurch. Getting excited, I peered out the window, watching as we passed the end of the concrete platform.
“See any mountains yet?” Parker teased.
“Hopefully soon.”
“What’s with you and mountains?”
“What do you mean? Who doesn’t like mountains?”
He leaned back in his seat, putting one hand behind his head, getting comfortable. “But you’ve always liked them. Remember? You used to draw them when you were little. Claire drew rainbows. You drew mountains.”
“They were easy to draw. They’re just an upside down Vee.”
Parker laughed, but his eyes were still looking at me in an expectant way.
I thought it over for a moment. “They’re just so… massive. Immovable. Forces of nature. A mountain can withstand anything. And they’re majestic. They fill me with hope.”
“Hope about what?”
“Hope about everything,” I answered, and that seemed to satisfy him.
Twenty minutes later, Parker got up to find the car with the snack bar, returning with coffee for himself, a soda for me, and a pretzel to share. It wasn’t as good—or as big—as the first pretzel, but it wasn’t bad.
The train made a brief stop at a small city, and new passengers joined our train car. Parker moved over to sit next to me in case someone needed the other seat. At least I think that as the reason. Whatever the reason, it was okay with me. From time to time, my arm brushed against his—at least when I didn’t have my nose practically pressed up against the window. Talk about being torn in two directions—the view outside and view of the man sitting next to me were both enticing but in very different ways.
“So what’s the plan when we get to Lucerne?”
I handed him the rest of the pretzel and pulled out the folder of travel info, scanning the itinerary. “I think the rest of today is a free day. Claire and I’d planned to do a bit of a walking tour. I want to see the Chapel Bridge.”
Parker gave me a suspicious side-eye. “More church stuff? Haven’t we tempted fate enough?”
I couldn’t help giggling at that. “I don’t think it’s associated with a church, or at least not anymore. It’s actually just kind of a covered walkway across the river. I’m sure you’ve seen it—they show it on every single picture of Lucerne.” I opened my guidebook a
nd showed him. “As you walk through it, there are paintings above you. Some are the originals from the 1600s, but some are copies because there was a fire.”
Parker looked at the guidebook for a few seconds and then handed it back to me. “Okay… an art museum over water, check. What else?”
“Does that mean… that you’ll go with me?” It seemed like that’s what he meant, but I thought I’d better check. I’d been such an emotional wreck last night with the train situation that I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed today.
“Of course, Squeak. Someone needs to be there to save you if you’re looking at the artwork and walk right off the bridge into the water.
I laughed lightly, trying not to show how happy his answer had made me.
“What else is on this walking tour of yours?”
“This.” I flipped to a picture of a stone lion with a spear in its side. “It’s the lion monument. It’s in honor of a unit of the Swiss Guard who were killed in battle during the French Revolution.”
Parker took the book from me and this time, he actually read the accompanying text—perhaps because of his own military background. A few minutes later he handed it back to me. “I’d like to see that.”
Pleased that he liked my plan, I looked out the window at the passing countryside and the mountains in the distance. Maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be so lonely after all.
The hotel wasn’t far from the train station. Parker insisted on carrying his own duffle and pulling my suitcase, leaving me just my backpack with my guidebook, travel info, and purse inside. He took charge once we got to the hotel, too, getting the keys for both of our rooms and informing the front desk staff that the third room wouldn’t be needed.