Fly by Night (15 page)

“Really. Since when?” TJ hadn't expected that.

“Ooh…” The secretary seemed to be thinking. “A little over a month ago.”

“What happened to her lab?”

“The operation closed down.”

He didn't know what to say.

“Do you know where she went?”

“With whom am I speaking?” the woman asked.

“I'm a wildlife biologist and would like to speak with Dr. Drakos,” he said.

“Are you a prospective employer?” the secretary asked. The woman sounded nervous and he bet it was about breaking protocol.

He didn't say no. He'd thought to say “family” but then family would know that she'd left.

“Do you have a contact number?” he said without answering her question.

“In that case, yes.” The woman's voice relaxed. “She'll be happy to hear from you. You can reach her at Sea Life in Minneapolis. I don't have a forwarding address as of yet—”

“Sea Life?” he said. “Mall of America, Sea Life?”

Charlotte made a funny face and then clapped her hands together.

“We're in Providence, Rhode Island, sir,” the woman said. “So I'm not familiar with Minnesota—I just know she's moved to Minneapolis.”

“Would you happen to have a number?”

“I can't give out her personal number, but I have a general number for Sea Life information.”

“That'll do, thank you.”

TJ wrote down the number and sat mesmerized. She was only three and a half hours away by car.

“In Minneapolis?” Charlotte asked.

He nodded, not sure what to make of it.

“At the mall?” she asked, filling the teapot under the faucet to make another pot of coffee. “The place we took the boys all those years ago?”

He nodded and looked back at the number he'd scratched down on the side of some of his papers.

“You've got that conference down there next week,” Charlotte said.

He nodded and slowly looked up at her.

 

13

It had been September of Amelia's sophomore year in college, months shy of the one-year anniversary of her parents' death, when she met Christopher Ryan. Amelia had been selected for participation in the Semester by the Sea program, usually reserved for seniors.

Ryan, a visiting professor of marine biology from California, was prematurely gray, wore rumpled clothing, sported a reckless attitude along with a beat-up Jeep with a canvas roof and no doors. His skin was deeply tanned from being outside, didn't give a shit about convention, and had quickly become everybody's favorite. Amelia's command of marine biology came under his notice and she was asked to become one of his ad hoc helpers.

After the first two weeks he and Christina Kingsley, the other professor, invited her along with them after class to Nathan's for hot dogs. The three of them had sat at the counter as Amelia listened in awe about their dives and explorations of deep ocean trenches where volcanic activity had prompted the growth of strange wormlike creatures living near the heat vents deep in the ocean floor.

“You know, Amelia,” Kingsley began. She and Ryan could have been siblings. No makeup, hair pulled straight back into a ponytail, tiny button earrings, windburned face with no regard to appearance. “Stick with your studies and you'll be doing work like this.”

Chris Ryan nodded as he tipped back a Heineken.

*   *   *

A week later at the end of the day, Professor Ryan asked if Amelia could stay behind to help with docking the boats and preparing slides for tomorrow's lab class.

Amelia lit up. She worked alongside the grad students and Dr. Ryan as they pulled in the rest of the booms and buoys and shored up the equipment until the next day.

He started walking to his Jeep, keys jingling as he stopped.

“You gonna go eat?” he asked.

She looked at her watch and shrugged. “Nah, looks like I missed dinner again.”

“Well how 'bout dinner at Nathan's again? My treat for helping.” He placed both hands on his chest and bowed in apology.

“Professor Kingsley coming too?”

He took a few steps, craned his neck to look toward the parking lot. “Car's gone; looks like you're stuck with me.”

Amelia looked at the empty space.

“That is, if you can stand me.” He'd said it in such a disparaging way that she felt at ease.

She hoped there would be enough to talk about and felt odd at being singled out. The man had a shiny gold wedding ring that made her feel safe and she chided herself for being skittish. After all, he was old enough to be her father.

She looked around to possibly drag someone else along but the other students were gone.

“I'm fine,” she lied, chalking up her reticence to the fear of long silences with a professor.

During the twenty-minute drive, conversation was easy and they'd chatted about one of the boat engines that kept conking out. Laughing about how fifteen of them had been stranded in the sound until one of the grad students came out in a Zodiac to help restart the engine.

Amelia rattled around in the Jeep since it didn't have seat belts, a canvas top, or doors, so she held on to the dashboard as they hit bumps to keep from being thrown. The vehicle looked like it belonged somewhere out in the field. Huge tires, racks welded in places that held all sorts of marine tubing and equipment.

*   *   *

They sat at the counter, each picked up a menu.

“Order whatever you want, it's on me.”

“Wow, thanks.” She ordered franks and fries.

“No fish sticks for you tonight, young lady.” He looked over the top of his menu and smiled. “Bring me a Heineken,” he said to the waitress. “Getting enough time to get your work done or are you fighting off boyfriends right and left?”

“Right,” she snickered. “A few students go out to the Hamptons afterward, but most of us stay behind and catch up.”

“So I take it you're serious, not one of these girls who wants to grow up to be a dolphin trainer at SeaWorld.”

His eyes narrowed. It surprised her. He'd been so encouraging to students no matter how many mistakes they made; she wondered if it was all just an act.

“I don't see anything wrong with being that if a person wants to,” she said.

He smiled with closed lips at her comment, looking amused and pissed off at the same time.

“I-I want to do work like you and Dr. Kingsley, be a professor somewhere.” She felt foolish as she took a sip of the Coke that the waitress had just set down along with the food.

“Boy, I bet your folks are darn proud of you.” He turned on the stool to study her, finishing off his Heineken and motioned to the waitress to bring another.

“Uhh.” She looked down at her hands. “My parents died last year.” Everyone in the program knew. Dr. Kingsley had known. They'd even briefly discussed the idea of putting off the Semester by the Sea until next fall if she wasn't feeling up to it just yet. The one-year anniversary of their death was coming up. At the time Amelia had insisted on going ahead with it, since this is what helped her feel better.

“Oh … I'm so sorry.”

She stopped eating and withdrew her hands, placing them in her lap.

“I didn't know.” He covered her hand with his. It was warm. He reached for the other and held them both. She didn't pull away.

“Excuse me.” She pulled away and hurried to the ladies' room, embarrassed at crying. Confused at how much she liked the feel of his hand. Why did he want to know about her parents? She was doing well in the program; it wasn't interfering with her progress or work.

She soaked bunches of toilet paper under the cold water and pressed it against her eyes, holding it there a few moments to cool them. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and redid her ponytail, brushing back some stray hairs that kept falling in her face.

Walking back to the booth, she sat down. He'd stopped eating after she'd left.

“I'm really sorry, Amelia, I didn't mean to upset you,” he said.

Her hands were in her lap. She then tucked each one under a thigh to warm her fingers.

“Please eat.” He pushed the plate toward her in a way that felt fatherly.

She shook her head. “Thanks but I'm kinda full.”

“Dessert then?”

She shook her head.

“They've got those great ice cream sundaes here,” he offered to lighten the moment, cajoling her to smile but she didn't.

It was an awkward silence as they waited for the check.

*   *   *

As she climbed into the Jeep he reached across the gear shift to hug her.

“I'm so, so, sorry,” he said.

Her body was rigid until he touched the top of her hair with his hand.

“I miss them so much.” She relaxed. His skin smelled of dried saltwater and sun.

“It's okay.” He sighed deeply as he started to rock.

They sat there, rocking, with him cradling her until she calmed enough for him to kiss her on the lips and then he nuzzled into the crook of her neck as he kissed her.

*   *   *

He'd dropped her back at the dorm two hours late. The front door was locked so she had to ring the bell for the RA to come let her in.

Amelia bounded up the one flight to her floor, holding her sides as she jogged down the hall to her room. The odd fluttering in her chest mixed with shame made her feel sick.

“Hi.” Her roommate for the summer sat on the floor with two other students. “Wanna play hearts? We need a fourth person, Amelia.”

“I thought you said she always wins,” one of the other students muttered.

“No, thanks,” Amelia said. She hid her eyes, not wanting to make eye contact. “I don't feel good; think I'll shower and crash.”

“You okay?” the roommate asked.

“Getting a cold.”

“Ooh, summer colds are the worst.” Her roommate collected all the cards, the bowl of popcorn, and stood. “Let's go down to the lobby, maybe we can find a fourth person there.”

“Hope you feel better,” they all chimed in.

She didn't answer as she grabbed her towel and hurried down the hallway toward the showers, hoping they were empty. She quickened her pace as she neared the doors. It seemed the only safe place on land. She then stood under the scalding water, face toward the spigot, wondering what she'd done.

*   *   *

Over the next six weeks, for the duration of the Semester by the Sea, they met several more times. Dinner, then make-out session in his car; sex couldn't come too soon as her breasts ached to be touched and her hips arched to take in the sweet dampness of it all. Then during the day when taking water samples he'd act like he barely knew her. And while Amelia was relieved that no one could tell, it hurt that he could be so aloof. She'd lie in bed confused, longing yet ashamed. It hurt to look at him with such desire on the boat as they waited to collect samples. Amelia's face would blush scarlet knowing where his fingers had probed only hours earlier while he demonstrated how to preserve sea grass samples. Grateful she was at the back of the group instead of the front where she'd usually stood. Withdrawing, she folded her arms and averted her eyes, avoiding making contact with any of the students.

But she was hooked on Chris Ryan. She'd clasp his back and feel about to burst. In his car, he'd reach over to kiss her and she'd kiss back. The fluttering in her chest became almost unbearable and before she knew it they'd made love in his summer cottage that had been closed for the season.

“I'm assuming you're safe,” he whispered into her hair as she clutched his chest with her legs.

“Safe?”

“On the pill.”

“Oh.”

The expression on his face changed. He pulled out so abruptly it hurt and he sat up on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor.

“Oh yes, yes, of course I am,” she lied. Immediately feeling flushed. It was their second time and she'd figured he'd know what to do.

“Maybe this is not such a good idea after all,” he said, as he bent over, reaching for his clothes.

“What are you saying?” She felt panicky, trying to soften her voice. “Come back.” She reached out her arms.

He looked at her and paused. She could feel whatever resolve he'd mustered, dissolve.

“My God, you're so beautiful,” he said.

Kneeling down on the bed, encircling him in her arms, in seconds he was deep inside. She felt him about to explode.

*   *   *

By the last week in November the Semester by the Sea was winding down. The program ended two weeks earlier than the regular semester and students usually took that time to finalize papers, research projects in the lab.

They all hugged good-bye, they'd become as close as a tribe, except for Amelia who'd stood apart from her classmates in a way she'd never done. Silent, sullen, and off to the side. And while everyone knew it was coming up to the one-year anniversary of her parents' death, they'd said nothing. But it came on the eve of her second missed period.

 

14

“Dr. Drakos! I
thought
I knew you,” the intern exclaimed as Amelia was being introduced during her first day on the job.

Amelia bristled at the young woman's tone. Her scalp tightened. Vaguely familiar, Amelia couldn't quite put her finger on it, although Juney came to mind.

It was the first day of work at Sea Life. Amelia, Jen, and Bryce were each being given separate tours by the staff.

“It's me, Meagan Hanson.” The intern extended her hand to shake, all smiles.

“Amelia Drakos.” She reached back.

“I kn-o-ow,” the young woman said, nodding in a way reminiscent of Eddie Haskell in
Leave It to Beaver.
“A year ago this past summer? I was on that dive in the Solomon Islands? University of New Hampshire's program?”

Bits of vague recollection surfaced and Amelia recalled a controversy surrounding this intern.