For the Best (27 page)

“You think he’d be interested in set
building?” Ansel asked.

Della and I both came to attention.
“Where?”

“Depends. Mostly Burbank.”

Tanner

At one of Skylar’s numerous family weekend
excursions, I found myself staring at Skylar’s step-step
grandmother. Not one of Skylar’s parents or grandparents was with
their original or even second spouse. Peripherally, I saw Skylar’s
father, also my boss, scowl - more than likely at me.

“You want half,” Skylar offered me the
remains of her filet mignon, though she hadn’t eaten a tenth.

“Sure.”

Halves….that’s all there was for Skylar. If
she wasn’t so manipulative, I might have felt sorry for her. She
had four siblings all halves. The maternal half that created her
she was not on speaking terms with, that left her with a father who
was remarried, half a parent.

“I think I’ll fly back early. The weather
channel is predicting a huge lake effect blast for Chicago and I
have some pressing work at the office to take care of…” Her dad
caught my eye, I wondered if he knew how little I truly engaged in
the job he had given me.

The flight was direct. As I arrived, I
noticed all the planes backed up on the runway and held on the
tarmac. Exiting I made my way past hordes of dismayed and
disappointed travelers stuck in Chicago because of bad weather.
Across the bottom of the arrival and departure screen scrolled the
words
Blizzard conditions close
O’Hare
Airport
.

Like a mirage, I imagined the woman holding
up the wall outside United customer service was Hanna. “Shit,” I
muttered to myself. I was coming at her from the other side of the
concourse. Heavy foot traffic separated me but I managed to go
serpentine to get a closer look.

She was dressed in a short black leather
jacket over a garnet jeweled silk shirt. A mini matching wool skirt
showed off her long legs, which were covered in black sweater
tights. Knee high heeled boots completed the eye catching woman
waiting for an update on her flight.

I touched her on the sleeve. “Hanna.”

Startled her eyes grew wide. I went to hug
her and she took several steps back.

Recovering she attempted to smile, “Tanner,
how are you?”

“Good and you?”

She stared at me closely. I wondered if she
saw the emptiness in my eyes. “Great. I’m coming back from
California. Jace and Michelle moved there. Ansel stayed behind to
help them find a decent place to live. Pinkie, their dog remember?
They gave her to me,” she was rambling.

“You look well.” I gave the lamest
compliment to the hottest girl I’d ever touched. I adjusted the
strap on my carry-on trying to figure out my next move. I heard the
others milling around the same spot as Hanna grumbling, discussing
options. Listening ahead to the agents talking to the next people
in line I gathered unpleasant news. All the airport hotels were
booked. Flights were cancelled. Rental cars had been gobbled up
long ago, and even if they hadn’t -what was she going to do? She
wouldn’t drive sixteen hours south home.

“Hanna Nwerrerreptesh,” the airline agent
called butchering an attempt at a difficult name not even coming
close to correct pronunciation.

She walked up to the agent, proceeding to
keep pissiness and aggravation out of the inflection of her voice.
I stuck around eavesdropping, curious. Nothing she said mattered.
It was after 6p.m. Her flight was cancelled. The next day’s flight
to Jacksonville was full. She was stuck. She left her cell number
and stepped out of line.

She walked up beside where I was leaning
against the wall, while other travelers rushed past us. “You coming
or going?”

“I just got back.”

“That’s right.” She nodded. “The internship
is here in Chicago. How is that going?”

“Fantastic. Learning a lot, super busy.”

“I know. Trev asked me what you meant in
your e-mail.”

“Regarding?”

She didn’t bat an eye as she rattled off my
exact words, “Trev, I’m sorry, but you can’t come to visit. I am
slammed with work and other commitments.”

I wished she was unaware that I had been
making up excuses to my brother on why he could not see me in
Chicago. The real reason was Skylar was adamant Trev wasn’t
allowed.

She hunched into her jacket. “You got any
suggestions on hotels.”

“Aren’t they all booked?”

“They can’t all be booked,” she
insisted.

“The good ones probably are.”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ll figure it out.
Does it usually snow this much?”

“Not in October. At least I don’t think so.”
I got an idea. “You could stay at my place until you’re re-routed
tomorrow. I live downtown. We can take the train. My roommate is
gone so there is an extra room.”

Hanna

Minus my luggage in route to the destination
I was not, I followed him home like a stray dog; noted the
interesting people crammed on the L train, grimacing at the two
plus feet of snow surrounding the tracks and the amount still
falling. I stared at orangey brick row house after ugly row house
we passed as suburbs flew by the window. Finally, we got off at a
station and plunged through un-shoveled city sidewalks. We came to
a similar bricked building.

Tanner, apparently feeling the need to talk,
spouted facts on his residence, “This place started as a small
factory, then they renovated it into office space, and now it’s
residential. Wait until you see it inside.”

I didn’t respond. Nervously, I fidgeted with
the clasp on my handbag.

Tanner took his key out and held the door to
the vestibule wide while we stomped inside and shook off the
cold.

His was the first apartment on the ground
floor. Before me were exposed pipes and conduits, huge leaded glass
windows that made the world outside wavy like looking through an
old Coke bottle, shiny swirling stained concrete floors covered a
wide expanse.

“You like it?” Tanner prodded.

“Yeah.”

He joked, “Urban industrial living is very
now or so I’ve read.”

I walked to the middle of the room where the
kitchen was like a floating bar, one entrance in an almost perfect
circle. Concrete counters, atop black cabinets, stainless steel
stove with a giant vented hood descending from the ceiling, a
built-in refrigerator that was only counter height and bar stools
surrounded the whole design. Positioned just past the kitchen was a
black leather sectional focused on a monstrous flat screen TV
mounted on one of two metallic painted walls.

“How do you afford this on internship
pay?”

He hesitated, “Uh, housing was provided with
the internship. You want something to drink?” Tanner scavenged in
the fridge, came up with two bottles of beer.

I took one. “Can you excuse me while I make
a call?”

“No problem.” He gestured to one solid wall
across the back with three doors before handing me the bag of
necessities I had purchased on my way past the airport mall.

The doors were open and as he stopped in
front of one, I knew it was his bedroom immediately. “You sleep in
your own bed. I’ll take your roommate’s room – since he is out of
town.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure that would be okay.” His
eyes searched for what I might have found fault with and landed on
the photo of him and Skylar on his nightstand. Without another word
he stepped to the far left door on the wall.

Inside the room was not the height of
interior design like the showcase in the living areas or his room,
tangled blankets and sheets adorned a wrought iron bed with a
scarred dresser that restored would have been a nice antique. A
laptop rested on a fold down wall table and a desk chair was rolled
out waiting for an occupant. Tanner closed the door.

I dialed Ansel. His voice mail picked up.
“Hey, it’s me. I am in the worst situation. I’m stuck in Chicago,
and I ran into Tanner at the airport. I’m staying at his place
tonight. It’s well...you know. Help!”

After freshening up in his roommate’s
bathroom, I returned to find Tanner holding the edge of the counter
staring off at nothing. “You hungry or tired?” he asked.

“Not really either. I wouldn’t mind seeing
Chicago.”

Hanna

We sat on a bench across Lake Shore Drive.
Our eyes stung with the bitter cold. I thought I might get frost
bite. I kept burying my face in the scarf I had found in my
handbag. With chattering teeth, and a numb body I started the
conversation.

“The internship…what do you do?”

Tanner hunched his shoulders but not as if
he was cold more like he was defeated. “Inside sales.”

“For landscaping or golf courses?”

He shook his head.

Perplexed I asked, “What do you sell?”

“Annuities.”

“Did you switch majors?”

“No.”

Confused, I admitted, “I don’t know much
about them.” Rather than explain he said nothing. I asked, “Do you
like it?”

He shrugged and didn’t expand.

We found a martini bar with a live band
playing jazz. After taking a seat and placing our order the
conversation lagged.

Drinks were placed in front of us. “Do you
remember the first time I said I love you?” he asked.

Perplexed, I hesitated before answering,
“Yes.”

“When was it? I can’t remember. It bothers
me.”

The toothpick impaled with raspberries on my
fruity shaken vodka was leaching dark purple juice into the clear
liquid much like blood from a vessel. “That day you took me to
Guana.”

Tanner

The park was just a short distance down the
beach highway called A1A. Gator had his giant head and lolling
dotted black tongue hanging out my back car window. When the
wealthy mansions that perched atop the sand dunes ended, the
scrubby wild plants that clung to sandy soil flanked each side of
the road. Guana Preserve was a wedge of protected land sandwiched
between the ocean and the Matanzas River. Oceanside was remote
beaches where you could walk for a mile or more without meeting
another soul. Riverside there was mud packed, coquina filled
shoreline - perfect for kayaking or netting some oysters if you had
the patience. I drove us to the park entrance where there was a
causeway over the river to enter the forest.

The mosquitoes were relentless, but the
repellant we applied kept them manageable. We walked for miles,
just me, her, the dog and the occasional mysterious rustling noise
of an animal nearby.

Boardwalks over swampy areas led us to a
spot on the river where speed boats threw a wake of waves against
the shore. I picked a spot of hardened mud and took a squat. Hanna
sat in my lap with my arms resting around her. From our vantage
point, the world seemed calm. Sunset was hours off but the coast
faced east and if you could rouse yourself the rise was a beautiful
sight to see.

Hanna and I stared out at the stretch of
marsh, mud, and a blue water highway between tall pine forests. Her
mom and dad had set her down for a talk. Their marriage was ending.
Her mom was an unhealthy mess. Life was bad, soon to be worse.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered.

I understood. “I know but it’s for the best.
You still have me. I’ll be there for you.”

“Will you?”

“Always,” I whispered kissing her.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I’ll never love
anyone else.”

Hanna

Tanner’s expression changed, “I
remember.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to talk about what
he remembered. If he really did.

We walked around Millennium Park where we
made faces at our distorted selves in the Chicago bean, a mirror
that reflected the skyline and every person within view. I took a
couple of pictures - none with him in the frame.

We continued on to a stretch of the
Magnificent Mile of Michigan Avenue where I bought a change of
underwear and some pajamas while Tanner watched.

Returning to his car, we drove until Tanner
pulled to a stop next to a sign that read Lincoln Park Zoo. “I
should bring Trevor here. They are open later in November and
December. Brochures show Christmas lights and ice sculptures.”

“He’d like that. He’d like to see snow. I
don’t know that he ever has,” I responded.

He nodded. “Maybe he’d even be able to go
ice skating back at Millennium Park.”

I touched his hand. “He’d love to do
anything with you. He looks up to you.”

He rubbed his palms across his eyes. “You
want to see or do anything else?”

Ansel texted.
I changed
your reservation. You are on United Flight 633 6am to Daytona. Clay
said he would pick you up in baggage.

Keeping the screen from Tanner’s view, I
said, “I think we better call it a night.”

I warmed up in the shower finally getting
feeling back in my fingers and toes. Fidgeting in a newly bought
pair of fleece pajamas I went into the main room to say goodnight
to Tanner. I found him stirring hot chocolate on the stove. “Thank
you for showing me around, letting me stay here.”

He emptied the contents of the pan into two
mugs. He was staring at me as if my unattractive PJs were lingerie.
“I wish you still didn’t tempt me. I’m pretty weak. Exhaustion can
do that to a guy.”

“I’m tempting you?” I laughed forgetting why
I shouldn’t.

“Always have.” He leaned closer.

I moved out of his reach.

“Do you ever wish things had turned out
different?” he asked.

“It was for the best. Goodnight, Tanner.” I
kissed his cheek and carried my cup back into the bedroom with
me.

I listened as he ran the kitchen faucet,
listened as his heavy steps crossed the floor to his bedroom,
listened to his toilet flush, listened for quiet or some signal he
had gone to sleep.