by Lola Karns
He rubbed his temples trying to make it all go away. His mind flashed to another time, another place where he once again stood on the outskirts, watching and listening, but not participating. He had cancelled the display and yet people came together to make it happen because they needed it. Claire had been there, shouting words of encouragement and moving forward in spite of his efforts to ruin the display. Mr. Schmidt’s words echoed in his ear: there are many paths to the same place. Those little trains weren’t in the same place, but they would run all the same because of vision and cooperation.
The other Fordham voices droned on, an endless loop to an ugly place.
James stood. “Fuck this.”
He tucked his unlit cigar into his jacket pocket and left the room. His path to his suitcase in the coat check took him past the dining room. Illyana and Cassia sat side by side, nearly identical blond heads tilted together in hushed conversation. Kaitlyn wore a look on her face like she’d rather be getting a root canal. He went to the table.
“Illyana, I must be going, and I’m really sorry I won’t be able to go to that gallery with you.”
“Why not?
“I need to get back to Ohio. You could come visit. There’s an amazing artist in town. You’d like what she does.”
Illyana stood and then wrapped him in a hug. “Come back soon. We miss you. Thomas is so worried about this whole work thing. With you gone and him working, no one goes to galleries with me and Cassia. Well, Danny, but...” She rolled her eyes, and then gave him a warm smile. “Hurry home.”
Home was a weird word. He didn’t have a home. He had a rental and an apartment. He gave Cassia a kiss on each cheek. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
He went to the other side of the table where Kaitlyn sat.
“You could leave.”
She raised her head and met his gaze, her brows drew together. She was beautiful, but nothing stirred inside him, no speeding heart or rebellious fingertips reaching out to touch. Kaitlyn struck him as a decent human being. The kind who would refuse to serve coffee to someone who upset her friend.
“No. I should stay. I don’t want to be rude.”
He scoffed and crouched to be lower to her level. “Rude is leaving someone alone with their phone and more or less ignoring them through the meal. Your fun stories were the highlight of the afternoon so far as I’m concerned. You deserve better than sitting around by yourself.”
“Are you hitting on me?”
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so. You looked at that empty chair a few times like you wanted to share an inside joke with someone and were surprised they weren’t there. Are you leaving?”
“Yup. I’m headed to the airport to get a standby flight out of here. Can I ask, why did you end up here with Danny?”
“Sometimes a girl gets swept up in the glamor, but even glitter can’t make a mud puddle something it’s not.” A sly smirk spread across her face as she glanced at the other end of the table. “Let’s go, James. Illyana, Cassia, see you around.”
Kaitlyn spoke loud enough to make sure she was heard as she stood and offered him an elbow. He linked his arm through, accepting the friendly gesture, so out of place in the hushed room. “My sister’s been texting me photos from the get together back home. I want to get back to my apartment and Facetime them. Thanksgiving isn’t the same without football and burnt stuffing.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“No you wouldn’t, and that’s a shame.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” As they walked, Kaitlyn kept pace stride for stride. He glanced at her fuzzy-boot-clad feet.
“It’s too cold for sandals.” He’d been caught staring, but she didn’t seem to care. “And I’m not being paid to wear heels today, so no way.”
They collected their coats. James held hers as she put her arms in. “I think I need more football in my Thanksgivings. I’m not sure about burnt stuffing.”
“Nobody is. It’s good for a laugh if nothing else. I’m going to wait here for a car. It’s warmer inside.” Her Texas drawl came through.
“Bye, Kaitlyn, and um, no offense, but I hope I don’t see you at future Fordham Thanksgivings.”
She laughed and pulled out her phone. “None taken. My sister and I were texting about that.”
He looked at the screen. “She’s right. Gaslight him. It would serve him right given how often he’s done it. But don’t date the cousin to piss him off. The cousin is done with games.”
“I thought so, but if you have a hankering for burnt stuffing, let me know.” She threw her arms around him in a quick hug. The gesture was unfamiliar but right.
“Thanks, I think. Good luck, Kaitlyn.”
“And to you, James. That contest? Kick his ass.”
Outside, the cool air rushed between skyscrapers and burned his cheeks. He raised his chin. The sky was growing darker, but between the clouds and buildings, there would be no sunset. Something crunched beneath his foot. He glanced down. A plastic fork. He couldn’t escape the garbage. There had to be another way, and he was going to find it.
Chapter 19
Adrenaline coursed through Claire’s veins. After months of anticipation and hard work, the clock ticked away the seconds until George, dressed in a restrained navy suit, opened the doors to the public. Walter and Bob stood at the engineers’ station sporting overalls, red bandanas, and stripped hats similar to her own. The high school homecoming queen held one basket of miniature candy canes. Sandy, dressed as Mrs. Clause, carried the other.
Claire glanced at the assembled crew. She was so proud of them. “George? Walter? Bob? Who wants to make the announcement?”
“Bob, George, and I agree, kiddo. You did the heavy lifting. Clem would want you to do it.”
Warmth washed across her face as George walked across the room and presented her with the red bandana from his pocket. “You earned this, Claire.”
She traced her fingers across the embroidered words along the bottom edge. “Chief Engineer.” The last time she’d seen this was when Clem waved it in the air to chase out the stragglers at the close of last winter’s display. With a last glance at the clock, she inhaled and raised the bandana as high as she could reach. “All aboard!”
The doors swung open and the orderly line outside shifted and morphed into serpentine mob. The children’s mouths formed perfect round ‘O’s as they tumbled through the open doors. Adult eyes widened before resuming normal shape as they collected hats, gloves, candy canes and everything else being thrust at them.
Between the fairy lights and decorative screens, the room had been transformed to an otherworldly setting. As generations of parents and children paraded before her and wove through the cordoned off maze, years melted away from crinkled eyes. Everyone became a kid again, experiencing the world anew. Transported to a mythical place where magic became real.
The room’s air warmed with body heat and coffee breath as excited shouts blended together. “Look at the train, Mommy.”
“Higher. Want to see.”
“Daddy, that’s my school!”
“The train’s going in the tunnel! Let’s find where it comes out!”
“Can I eat that?”
“That dog looks like Baxter.”
“Remember Mommy, when we stopped for a train on the way here and I counted 29 cars and then 13 but you said you counted 50. Remember?”
Each phrase drifted through the air like a bubble of joy until she’d inhaled so much happiness that the frothiness of it all threatened to carry her away from reality.
The increasing number of fingerprints smudged on the Plexiglas separating the gingerbread house from candy-loving kids kept her feet on the ground. Microfiber cloth in hand, she discreetly wiped them away. Time disappeared as she answered familiar questions that were as natural as breathing.
When Walter and Bob took a break, Claire took over the train controls. George helped, but mostly he worked the crowd, engaging them and answering every
question as if it were the first time anyone asked him. Meanwhile, she bit her tongue so she wouldn’t snap at the kids who said, “Girls can’t be train engineers.” Nothing a day or two of sleep wouldn’t fix.
When Bob returned, she switched to assistant mode. The stream of people scarcely wavered and their energy proved contagious enough to keep her on her feet.
“Claire! Over here.” She turned toward Jo’s voice. She was a few feet away from the engineer table, waving a Kit-Kat and a thermos.
Claire’s stomach rumbled in response. “Hey, Bob. I’m taking a break. I’ll send up Walter or George. Whoever I find first.”
“We should have used the walkie-talkie system. Take a break. You’ve earned it.”
Claire pointed toward the side wall and took the “employee only” route to the meeting spot.
“Where’s Kevin? Is he okay?”
“He’s with Dylan, way back in the line.”
She held out her hands. “Thank you so much for the snack.”
Jo held back “Uh-uh. Is there a break room?”
“Kitchenette.” They wove through the crowd, and past the scrawled “employee only” sign taped to the door.
Jo gave her the bar. Claire barely had time to remove the wrapper before the chocolatey goodness filled her mouth.
“When did you last eat?”
“Breakfast?”
“Gracious. It’s 7:30. You need to remember to eat or else you’ll pass out from low blood sugar.”
“Yes, Mom.” She nudged Jo. “Thank you. I needed that. Maybe I should have more of a snack. Popcorn? So what’s up?”
“You know how I said I thought Dylan was not going to be back as Kevin’s therapist?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s not.”
“I have to say, you don’t sound too upset.”
“That’s because while Kevin was getting his shoes on, Dylan told me he asked to be reassigned, so he could spend more time with us, doing not just physical therapy. He also asked if he and I could have dinner sometime, just the two of us.” Jo’s eyes sparkled.
“Didn’t you say he was a little young?” Claire tried to hide a smile. She hoped they would all see what she did at the same time, although she might want to stand on the far-side of Jo in case she wasn’t entirely down with her vision.
“Only three years, I guessed wrong before.”
“Cougar.”
Jo stuck out her tongue, and Claire’s frothy bubbles of joy spilled forth as giggles as she wrapped her arms around her friend. “He’s a good person. I’m so glad you’re willing to give him a chance.”
“I’m excited. More than I should be.”
“What?”
“I’m happy, but I feel a little guilty after what happened with you...” A whistle blew in the background.
“Who needs that when I have all this?” She hoped Jo didn’t hear the way her voice cracked on the word that. She didn’t have time for frivolities of the heart. Not during train season, and maybe not ever. “You better get back out there so you can be there when Kevin gives the tour. I’ll get some water and try to catch up.”
“I brought you coffee.” Jo pointed to the thermos as she opened the door to leave.
“Even better.”
The hot coffee provided fortification and sealed the little pang of what could have been. She extended her break with a bathroom visit. Sometime during the chaos of the day, her left elastic had slipped out and her braid was working loose. She redid her hair into a ponytail using the one remaining elastic. By the time she went back to the display, Jo had caught up with Kevin and Dylan and they stood near the recreated Belkin. Kevin was pointing and saying something. Dylan and Jo’s gazes met above his head and Claire swore the temperature rose another ten degrees in the room. Dylan draped a giant arm over Jo’s shoulders and she leaned toward him, mimicking their position together on the miniaturized porch swing. If Jo or Kevin said anything about the swing being on the wrong side of the porch, she’d shrug her shoulders. Her Dylan colors were off, the hair not quite right – the problem of memory not a photographic reference – but the smiles were spot on. Anyone who came to the holiday trains could see how happy Jo and Dylan made each other, including the two of them.
Bob waved her over.
“I have to go – Patti likes me around when she does her breathing machine.”
The crowds began to thin after another hour. Walter snuck out, presumably for a cigar break. She initiated shut down procedures, which helped George corral the stragglers and usher them out the door.
“You got everything under control? Walter’s still here to help out.”
“I’m fine. Go on home.”
“Okay. It will get easier. My son-in-law’s going to help out tomorrow.”
The door closed with a clang as she drew the dust cover over the engineering board. A cool draft assaulted her and Walter came back in.
“That was a long day.” His voice sounded as if he’d eaten a handful of glass between puffs on the cigar.
“Thank goodness for the adrenalin rush. Day two is when the tired gets to me. But usually I get a cat nap on one day or the other.”
“You know Claire-bear, we need to bring in someone new. We can’t keep running this with four people, especially when three of us are old men.” He wrinkled his nose. “Some damn kid put a lollipop in the collection box.”
“Let’s hope it was a kid. The bank can separate the bills.”
“Take the final path walk?”
“Sure.” This was another task she used to do with Grandpa Clem. He’d look high and she’d look low for garbage. Then they’d walk the course from back to front for anything, from trash to damage, that they had missed the first time through. She stooped for a candy cane wrapper. “You’re not that old, Walter.”
“Bob is two years younger than Clem and both George and I are well past retirement age. We’re old, kiddo, and you’re so tired you look like a raccoon who got hit with red and green spray paint. What are you getting? Two or three hours of sleep a day?”
She snorted. “Something like that. It’s only for a few weeks. Who could we bring in? Jacob would, but he’s only seventeen. I sure hope he gets into that architecture program. We’re lucky he helps with the store.”
“So many of the kids and grandkids have moved away. Bob’s son-in-law has rehomed a few of Bob’s trains. We can get him on the weekends, maybe, but we need someone in town.”
“Maybe we can recruit Dylan.”
Walter scoffed and reached into the mountain scene. “Not in town. Next time I see a kid with a lollipop, I’m going to yank the stick out of their mouth. I have another idea. How about James Fordham? Maybe he’ll give us our space back if he gets to play too.” At least he didn’t call out her eye roll. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you at him.”
She crouched down. In her quest hide out by picking up a non-existent candy wrapper she found a real baby binky hiding by a table leg. “He’s an idiot and a jerk.”
“But you clued him in to Miss Jones and her gang, so you must not think he’s all bad.”
She glared at him. “How did you know?”
“Don’t deny it. You know Clem didn’t tolerate lying.”
That was a low blow. How dare he invoke his memory to make her come clean about emotions, or at least physical lust, she preferred to deny.
“I meant about Miss Jones.”
“I overheard Sandy on the phone with Jennifer Grant asking where she was supposed to store the toilet paper. After you left yesterday, she confessed to the whole scheme.” Walter shook his head. “Those girls always have been such troublemakers.”
“Takes one to know one. Can you believe someone lost this? Should I put it in the lost and found?”
Walter glared at her.
“You’re right. I’ll put it in a baggie first – someone digging for a glove might not want to touch a strange binky.” She walked toward the kitchenette. Walter followed, grabbed the
binky from her hand and threw it in trash.
“Hey!”
He touched his hand to her arm. “No one needs that. Sometimes I wonder what goes through that head of yours. For what it’s worth, I don’t think James Fordham is a horrible human being, even if he did try to cancel the display. Have you seen the way he chomps antacids? He doesn’t like firing people. He could have cut half my department, including me. But he didn’t. His heart’s in the right place, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.” He looked at his watch and harrumphed. “I need to get going.”
A blast of cold air caught her attention. Quietly she asked, “Did you lock the door?”
“No. I thought you did.”
“When was I near the—” Footfalls echoed. “We’re closed.”
She stepped toward the door so she could see into the short hallway and she nearly swooned.
“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but I guess I’ll come back another time. When aren’t you busy?”
“You’re here,” Walter piped up. “You may as well stay. Claire will give you a quick tour, but I’ve got to run. Sandy’s expecting me. Don’t forget to lock up.” He flashed a quick grin and a wink as he ran for the door. She couldn’t remember the last time he moved that fast. Suspicious. Especially since he hadn’t removed his coat earlier.
James rocked back and forth on his heels, his open black trench coat swinging rhythmically. He wore the same shade of burgundy that she used on her favorite figurine of him. It looked even better on him in person.
He started toward her but stopped in front of the donations box.
“It’s empty.”
“We cashed out already.”
Extracting his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled out a couple of bills and stuffed them into the Plexiglas box. “Starter money.”
“Hrumph. What did you do to Walter? You broke him somehow.”
“I bribed him with a Cuban cigar.”
“The man has no shame. And he sold himself out for cheap. Give me a minute to undo the closing and I’ll start the trains. Well one anyway.” She covered her mouth as she yawned so wide, her jaw hurt. She pulled back the cover, and flipped the switches, powering up the electrical board. “The view is better when you’re up close and not back in the entry. I’ll run the outer track.”