Authors: Kristen Chandler
Girls Don't Fly (31 page)
I know Erik’s truck long before we pass it on the road to the marina. He’s alone and driving fast. I have no idea where he would be going this time of the morning. When we make eye contact I hesitate and then I wave. He looks back at the road. It’s fine. If I were him I’m not sure I’d wave either. But I’m not him. In my mirror I watch the road between us grow, and then he turns onto Main Street and he’s gone.
46
Fledgling:
A bird ready to leave the nest.
The thing about Pete is that when he sails into the marina he could be Jason of the Argonauts. He is tan and scrappy and looks like he owns the wind.
I watch him from the marina office pavilion wondering if he will talk to me. I tried to call him three times yesterday, but I could never finish dialing. I just couldn’t find any words for what I needed to say.
He sails around the dock and angles himself in. That’s a tough trick with one person, but Pete is good at tricks.
I look across the sparkling water and I don’t want to go anywhere without Pete. I’m just getting to know him, but I feel like I have known him my whole life. Just seeing him makes everything feel brighter. He makes me feel worthwhile. But I remember when Erik made me feel that way, and I know that I have to learn to make myself feel worthwhile. I have to learn to be happy on my own.
Pete ties up his boat and walks toward me without smiling. “What’s up?”
I wait until he is close. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says.
We stand there looking at each other. Maybe I should have called.
Suddenly the old guy, the one who told me I was too young to work here, bursts out of the marina office. “Pete, you are still all out of towels in the bathroom. What does it take to get towels in a bathroom these days?”
“Hey, Mack,” Pete says lightly. “I’ll get to it. But right now I’m talking to a woman.”
Mack looks at me. “Who’s this?”
“No one you know.”
Mack shrugs and puts out his hand, like he’s never seen me before. “Stay away from this guy. He’s a troublemaker.”
“I’ve heard that,” I say.
Mack strolls back into the marina office. I smile at Pete. How can I do anything else? “Thanks for calling me a woman.”
“Thanks for being one,” he says.
The wind picks up and throws my hair in my face. The more I try to smooth it down, the more it flies. I give up and accept that I’m going to look like a fury. I say, “Bobbie told me that the comedian and the jerk won the scholarship.”
He nods. “They did.”
“I’m sorry I was a jerk,” I say.
“I’m sorry I lit into you.” He takes me by the shoulders, his mouth lifting at the corners, his voice low. “I read your proposal. You have a good mind, Myra. A very good mind.”
“Thanks. I’m going to keep it.”
“No. You’re going to grow it. I can hardly wait to talk to you when you get back.”
“Will you be here when I get back?”
Pete smiles. “I’ll be here.”
“Hey, Pete,” yells a guy from a boat tied to the dock. “You gonna kiss her or what?”
Pete and I both look at our audience. The men have dark tans, bad hair, and worse tank tops. They already have their cooler open. “Pirates,” I say.
“Aye,” says Pete.
Then, in front of a galley of drunk boaters, Pete puts his arms around me and looks into my eyes. I don’t look away. He cocks his head to one side, waiting. “Are you sure this is okay?”
Somebody actually has a cowbell on the boat. “Are you?”
I lean in and press my lips to his. He kisses me back, gently, but pulls me close. I touch his neck with my hands and then wrap my arms around his shoulders. We fit together, but not perfectly. He pulls away and then kisses me again. Longer, and better this time. The pirates hit the ship horn and scream bloody murder. We lean away from each other just enough to get them to lay off the horn.
Pete says, “Uh, yeah. I’ll be here.”
Overhead the gulls call to each other, soaring and diving. I breathe in the salt of the lake in Pete’s clothes and on his dark skin. I let myself relax in the imperfect space that we share. I feel myself begin to tilt and spin and disappear in the warmth of his safe arms. But I don’t. I stay on my feet, ready to fly.
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