For the Best (10 page)

I gritted my teeth and held back from saying
angry words defending Hanna. There was nothing to be gained. A long
road of misery, some of which I’d enabled, had befallen my
girlfriend. “Well, thanks for the update. If Hanna ever makes an
appearance, or calls tell her I miss her.”

I left without saying goodbye. I couldn’t
keep up the charade.

Hanna

Being friends with Ansel peppered my life.
We talked or texted frequently when I wasn’t working. We liked the
same movies and music, had similar opinions, but the best was we
both had a huge sense of adventure we satisfied with car trips
whenever we could. He took me to spots only a true Californian
would know. Lonely canyons, beaches you had to hike to reach,
snowcapped mountains a novice could climb. Without him, my Pacific
coast adventure would have narrowed to my job at the winery.

The type of job he held was a downside to
our relationship. It was a career of cheap shots embarrassing and
hurting people who wanted to maintain private lives. Still
sometimes I accompanied Ansel while he worked. With me sitting at a
table beside him at restaurants, clubs or just sidewalk benches he
looked less vulture-like than the other paparazzi. He realized I
was an added work tool. Dress me up and plant me at a celebrity
frequented bar, eventually I would be approached.

“Check this out.” Ansel showed me the
digital pic from his camera. It was me with my head bent in my hand
staring into a pretty colored drink placed in front of me. A
handsome guy was penetrating my body space.

“Do you know who was coming onto you?”

“No.”

He said his name and it didn’t compute.
Stuff like that didn’t matter to me. “Do you mind if I use it? I
won’t mention I know you.”

I wanted to tell him it made me feel like a
$20 hooker placed on the best corner by her pimp. When he gave me a
cut of the money no amount of reasoning on my part made what he’d
done any less reminiscent of what Tanner had done.

I pictured Tanner on campus having raucous
parties with friends in the warm sunshine of Florida before the
spring semester ended. Maybe he was thinking about me. Maybe he was
wishing the guy he was sharing a dorm room with was someone else. I
wondered.

In a moment of sheer despair I called him.
The call was answered by voice mail.
Just as well,
I
thought. I couldn’t bear his questions. I left less than a minute
message telling him of what I considered both our loss.

Feeling lonely and depressed, Ansel
suggested we dress up and hit the strip. I was under the mistaken
impression he’d taken the night off for me. Turned out that was
just wishful thinking.

Bowing my head against the recent howling
winds, we darted for the door. The warmth inside the club was
comforting, even the dimly lit room. I cringed catching myself in
the gilded mirror hanging on the wall – windblown and sad eyed.

“Do your thing. I’ll do mine.” Ansel dropped
his arm from my waist and disappeared in the crowd with a hidden
camera.

Seating was across the dance floor. Pretty
people moved in rhythm as I wove an erratic path to the bar. I took
a seat and waited the night out in disappointment.

Later…

A handsome stranger had taken a seat beside
me at the bar and unlike the roach like players dredged from the
crevices of the club who’d been plaguing me he’d sensed my
sadness.

I confessed I’d lost my childhood dog
earlier in the week.

After offering condolences, he asked, “You
want to get out of here.”

At that point, all I wanted was to be
anywhere but there. If my intuition was correct, those male asses
his eyes kept darting on meant I was not a contender in his
romantic pursuits.

In his Mercedes, I got a little nervous. “I
really should go home. Can you drop me off at a bus stop?”

He scoffed at my idea, “You can’t take the
bus from here on a Saturday night. Come back to my place. My chef
made some lobster bisque that is to die for coupled with a Pinot
Noir.”

No guys I’d hung with said phrases like “to
die for.” I was hungry, he smelled really good and his car had
heated seats. If I was going to be treated like a cheap whore, I
might as well play it safe with a man who was never going to invite
me into his bed.

We talked the night away. As if I hadn’t
figured out by that point how shallow, unscrupulous, and fickle
Hollywood could be he enlightened me further. I felt sympathy for
the guy. He was very sweet and if he wasn’t exaggerating might soon
be out of work because he couldn’t live up to the image his studio
wanted.

We watched a DVD of his latest television
episode and I complimented him on his performance. He finally
offered to drive me home.

In his driveway, we were both stunned with
the amount of waiting paparazzi. Ever the actor he gave me a kiss
knowing it would be caught on camera. That was when I noticed Ansel
sitting on the other side of his gate.

As I endured Ansel ranting and raving - all
but accusing me of being a celeb groupie- he drove me home. Hurt
and angry I didn’t stick around. I walked the block back to where
my own car was parked. My one thought as I drove up the coast,
it is time to move on
.

Tanner

For two days, I disregarded the mailbox icon
on my cell. I never listened to voice mail always just calling
whoever back to see what they wanted. When I checked missed call
history, I didn’t recognize the digits so I ignored the number. By
the time I got around to clearing my messages a day had passed.

Her voice made my heart stop, frozen in my
chest. “Tanner, it’s me.” A minute of silence followed by a deep
breath then she continued. “I woke up this morning and Gator had
died. I guess sometime in the night, peacefully in his sleep. I
didn’t even hear him. I’m not going to tell Trev. I can’t stand to
hear him cry. Just thought you might want to know.”

Hanna

I recognized the area code from my previous
life. Tearfully, I answered, “Hello.”

“Hanna?”

His voice caused a deluge of emotions to hit
me, not all his fault. Dead air space followed. I could hear him
take a breath. Since leaving Ansel, I’d been crying non-stop. Going
to the veterinarians to retrieve Gator’s ashes hadn’t helped
any.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I asked,
“How are you?”

He forced a laugh. “Good, good start with
the benign questions first. Health wise-well, classes-boring, GPA-
fine, Gainesville-what I expected.”

I didn’t hear sarcasm. “Okay, I’m well too.
I guess you got my message about Gator.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

I started crying again but tried to cover it
with silence. I didn’t want him to think I still needed him when I
grieved.

He spoke again, “What do you do out
there?”

Wavering I answered without detail, “I’ve
been working as a server at a winery.”

Silence again. “I’m sorry.”

His voice broke on his first ever apology to
me. I was stunned. Finally, I said, “I’m sorry too.”

“I miss you.”

More silence.

“Trevor fills me in on your visits each time
I call,” I offered.

“Are you coming home?”

“No.”

“Can I come and see you? I’ll go
anywhere.”

I took a deep breath and tried to think past
my emotions. Then I told him my plans, “Early May, I’m heading to
Glacier, Montana to work in the national park.”

“Are you spreading your Mom’s ashes?”

It felt good knowing he remembered. “That’s
my plan but I’m working for one of the lodges the open season.”

“I want to be there.” Silence. “I’m really
sorry,” he whispered sorry, only the second time I’d ever heard the
word come from his mouth.

“I know you said that already.”

“I don’t touch drugs anymore.”

His declaration caused me to laugh and
callously I asked, “Why would you? You experimented enough in high
school.”

“I deserved that Hanna. I wish I could go
back and change it all.”

Tanner - actually admitting he’d made
mistakes, not getting defensive, and apologizing –
had he
changed?
“It’s mid-day on the
East
Coast
. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’ll skip it to talk to you.”

I let him rattle. He talked and questioned
never once going to the subjects I chose to avoid. Somehow he knew.
By the time it was over he was convinced he was joining me over the
summer.

An incoming call beeped over the line. I
ignored it. It was just Ansel…again.

Tanner

Yawning, I stretched. Most of the bus ride
had passed in sleep. Two days, twenty plus hours, four transfers,
the last one in the state I would spend the summer had been in
darkness. Smells of cultural hygiene and sack packed meals stunk up
the bus. I looked at the pretty pictures on the job brochures. Blue
waters, white capped gray skyscrapers of rock, and green trees
beckoned.

I blearily gazed out the window at the
rolling brown land. The dusty prairies were finally giving way to
the mountainous ranges of the Rockies. I briefly contemplated the
Continental Divide. Gazing at the map of Glacier National Park, I
reviewed my employment papers once again.

Based on Hanna’s, I had submitted for a job
in the same park location. A large rustic hunting lodge turned
retreat, two restaurants, a lounge, and two retail stores with an
enormous fire place and lakeside views offering employment to 175
individuals.

I was going to captain a vessel on
Swiftcurrent Lake - one of the two lakes that offered dock
departures from the hotel for closer hiking access or boat side
viewing of several of the park’s larger glaciers.

Arriving in mid-June departing late August
using the summer hiatus between freshman and sophomore years of
college for this reunion and adventure, I was going to win her
back. She had been there since the beginning of May - preparing the
hotel for occupants after the winter closure. She was going to be
working in the hotel store and coffee shop. I had checked into that
opportunity, but once I saw the hours were 6a.m. to 9p.m. and
involved barista responsibilities I looked elsewhere. The human
resources contact was the one that suggested the boat tours after
finding out I had passed the lifeguard courses for the Red Cross
and could also steer a boat.

I checked my cell. Her last text:

I might be late.

One year had passed since I had seen her
face. The endless days of fear and regret and loss finally were
over.

Milling around the
bus station, we both caught sight of each other at the same time.
She waved and I ran up to her backpack, duffel and gear bouncing
against my back. I swept her off her feet and spun gripping her
tightly. Too quickly I had to put her down.

I forced myself to let go and step back. She
was still the most beautiful girl in the world to me. Her hazel
eyes had life in them once more. Her hair was captured in a long
ponytail with several brown strands glinting copper in the sun. She
smiled and embraced me again. Relieved I felt like she had missed
me as much as I did her.

“You look great,” she complimented.

I should have said that.

“It’s really good to see you,” we both spoke
the same thought simultaneously.

She laughed easily. “I’m illegally parked so
we better get going.”

She took the backpack off my shoulder and I
lugged my duffel. We began walking and I struggled with something
to say. “I brought a bunch of paperbacks for you and boosted the
micro SD card in my MP3 player up so I’ve got like 2000 songs.”

She smiled as she popped her trunk. “Great.
You might have to go to sleep with your earbuds in because the
employee lodging is a little loud sometimes. They have a ton of
board games and playing cards. I don’t ever seem to have much free
time because of the extended hours at the snack shop but on the
boats you guys get more. Most of those employees hike and camp a
lot.”

We had stowed the cargo and were now driving
through the town passing restaurants and stores. “There is an extra
set of my car keys. Feel free to take it whenever you need. I don’t
mind.” She pointed to the cup holder where the fob rested.

“Thanks!” I tried not to stare, she was just
hard for me to absorb after a year of deprivation. “I’ll keep it
gassed up for the privilege.”

She took her eyes off the road to bestow me
with one of her beautiful smiles. “I’m getting some groceries. The
snack shop store and eating out all the time deplete my cash too
quick. There is a community kitchen in our lodging where you can
keep your food but I usually stash all but my perishables in my
room.”

“Sounds good. I guess I’ll stock up
too.”

She pulled into a grocer and I almost forgot
my place reaching for her hand before I pulled back. Inside each of
us steered a shopping cart.

She had three lists all with different
handwriting so she must have been taking care of some friends.
Following her lead, I bought similar. A bag of granny smith apples
and navel oranges, bread, peanut butter, canned meat, crackers,
nuts, and some canned vegetables filled her cart. She stopped in
the health food aisle and bought almost thirty protein bars
checking off various flavors on someone’s list with bad
handwriting. I grabbed some of the energy bars for myself. Checking
another list again she grabbed two cases of soft drinks and I did
the same. We almost finished before she remembered candy and went
back to that aisle for a bag of caramel bites. She self-scanned
three different orders and I noticed she paid with three credit
cards forging the other two people’s signatures.

“I thought we’d grab lunch at Apgar Village.
It has a great view of Lake McDonald.”