Find Me Page 9

  I stopped writing long enough to ponder these questions. I was ashamed to find that I was getting slightly turned on. The fact that I was on my third beer didn’t help at all.

  I envisioned my male protagonist as I had described him and then, out of absolutely nowhere¸ I saw Jack in his place. It made me wince, made me want to step away from the computer. The jerk wasn’t even here and he was somehow managing to ruin some of the best writing I had done in the last few months.

  Maybe it was the beer, but I didn’t have any problems admitting to myself why I was thinking of Jack. Sure, there was a very strained and anger-laden relationship between us. But he was also the first man I had gone out to dinner with in nearly four years. And as far as I know, he was the first man that had looked at me like something to be desired in a long time. I’m pretty sure he was trying to by sly when he was checking me out when he had come back from his hiking excursion (before he swooped in and took the plane from me, that is) and I had loved it. It had made me feel wanted for the first time in a long while.

  So it made a sick sort of sense that I might substitute his face and body for those of my main male protagonist. Arrogant jerk or not, the fact remained that Jack was incredibly good looking. If he weren’t such a dick, I would have no problem at all trying to net Jack as the man that would break the wretched dry spell I had been on. I could scarcely remember the man that I’d had the one night stand with two years ago. His face was just ab blur to me and the night had not been memorable.

  So of course Jack was there, in my thoughts. But I would much rather him be firmly placed into the realms of anger. The fact that I also found myself wanting to kiss him from time to time (even in my anger) was probably some deep Freudian thing that I would never understand.

  When my cellphone rang, I silently thanked it. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to sit there, thinking of my lack of a sex life and how the one man I had been attracted to in the last few years was essentially my self-made nemesis.

  My display showed the smiling face of my grandfather when I picked it up. I smiled at the picture and suddenly wished he were here with me, drinking beers and telling stories about dad.

  I answered the phone like I usually did when I knew it was him on the other line. “Hey Grandfather,” I said.

  “Hey Mac,” he said. “What’s the scoop?”

  “Same old, same old,” I said. “How are things out on the Island?”

  “Cold. Boring. Slow.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said. I typically teased my grandfather about “living life on island time.” He lived on the Queen Charlotte Islands, or Haida Gwaii as he and the local Haida’s had been calling it since the beginning of time. The chain of islands was situated off the western coast of British Columbia. My grandfather was a full-blooded member of the Haida nation as were much of the residents of the Queen Charlotte Islands.

  “How’s life?” he asked. “How’s that book coming?”

  “It’s coming,” I said. “Getting close to finishing it up.”

  It was cute how he always made a point to ask me about the book. He was really the only person that knew I was working on it. With dad and my brother dead, and mom re-married and living on the other side of the country, Grandfather was really the only family I spoke to on a regular basis. Usually, it was all about work; he owned a small store similar to The Pine Way and was one of the only businesses of the sort where he lived.

  “Good,” he said. “Finish it up, get it published, and then quit that store. It can’t be any better than business is out here, can it?”

  “Not really,” I admitted. “But business on the internet is making up for it. The Pine Way is doing pretty good. You still refusing to go the way of the internet?”

  “Damn right I am. I only have about another ten or fifteen good years left in me. I’ve made it this long without relying on that nonsense.”

  I smiled at his stubbornness. “How are you doing?” I asked him. “And I mean you. Not the business.”

  “Doing good. Won about fifty bucks at poker last night.”

  “And that’s the highlight of your week?”

  “Of course not. There’s getting drunk and watching hockey with Larry Douglas on Wednesday nights.”

  “Ooh, that’s a social life right there!”

  “And what’s yours looking like?” he asked.

  I walked right into that, I thought to myself. “Hey, I joked. I’m an aspiring writer. I have no time for a social life. You, on the other hand…,”

  “Take it easy on me,” he grumbled.

  “Sorry, Grandfather,” I said. “I just worry about you all alone in the cabin.”

  “Some of the best thinkers lived in solitude,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Hell if I know. Sounded good, though. But look… I’ll admit… there’s a selfish reason for my calling you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I need to borrow you for some discounts again.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Not a problem.”

  “Well, the rub of it is this… I need the merchandise within three days.”

  “Oh, that does pose a problem.”

  I had been helping Grandfather with his store in a round-about way for nearly three years now. It had kept me busy and made me feel as if I was contributing something after the divorce. Located in the middle of nowhere and forever against the internet, Grandfather simply wasn’t able to get the same discounts I could through newer, more modern distributors. So I had ordered things for him using The Pine Way’s account and having him pay me by check upon delivery.

  “You think there’s any way you could pull it off?” he asked. “I should add that freight might be a problem.”

  It’s almost impossible, I thought. And I almost spoke it out loud, too. But then I thought about Jack. And that damned plane.

  “You really need this stuff?” I asked.

  “Pretty badly,” he said. There was shame in his voice. “This order could set me for the rest of the year if I can get you to wrangle up a proper discount.”

  “What do you need?”

  He went through a list of things that two particular clients had asked from him—one of which had been recommended by a friend and, therefore, needed to be impressed as far as Grandfather was concerned. He was in need of two new snowmobiles, several different sorts of what he called “newfangled” climbing gear, and other odds and ends. I jotted down the list as he went through it.

  I felt myself wanting to ask him why the hell he had waited so long to call me but left it alone. I kept thinking about the plane and before I could stop myself and give it some proper thought, I found myself opening my mouth and saying: “Yes, I think I can help.”

  “Are you sure?” he said. He sounded delighted and doubtful all at the same time.

  “Possibly. I know a guy with a plane. I think I can get him to use it for us.”

  I didn’t know why I didn’t go into the details of how I was sort of part of that plane. In that moment, I don’t think I wanted to admit that I was aligning myself with Jack in any way, shape, or form.

  “Mac… you’re sure? I know this is a tall order.”

  “Trust me, Grandfather. Just let me handle it, okay. I’ll call you with the details. Give me like an hour or two, okay?”

  “Thank you so much, Mac.”

  “Of course. Now, I have to go. I have to make sure I get these orders in as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks,” he said again. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  We ended the call and I looked at my phone for a while. I slowly scrolled to Jack’s number. When I hit CALL, I actually grimaced.

  Jack answered on the third ring. I realized then that it was nearing ten thirty at night and I had no idea when he usually turned in.

  “Hello?” he asked.

  “Jack, it’s Mac. Did I wake you?” I asked it in a way that made in clear that I didn’t care if I had woken him up
.

  “No,” he said. “Just doing some reading. What’s up?”

  “This partnership thing,” I said. “Would you care to give it a test run?”

  “When? And how?”

  So I told him about Grandfather’s situation. I spoke slowly, taking the time to think out each word. I tried my best to not make it sound as if he was doing me a favor—although I guess that’s really what it boiled down to.

  “That sounds perfect,” he said. “It’s not too far and seems like a nice little test run. I have a mechanic coming by to check the plane out tomorrow. As soon as he gives me the a-ok to go, we can leave whenever you want.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “I need to place these orders and hope they can get here within forty-eight hours. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Great.”

  “Thanks,” I said flatly.

  “Thank you.”

  I hung up before any of our usual silences could surface. I let out a sigh and threw the phone down. God, why did he infuriate me so much by just talking?

  I got up from the desk, heading for another beer. But before I did, I stopped and looked down to the last page of the contract, still sitting by my computer.

  I picked up the pen like it was a knife and scrawled my name across the signature line. I stared at it for a moment and, very briefly, allowed myself to feel the slightest bit of excitement.

  12—Devlin

  I still couldn’t figure out Mac. Even as I watched her coming down the pier towards the float plane, she was a blank slate. It was obvious that she was trying to hide something—whether a severe disliking of me or some sort of awkward crush, it was impossible to tell.

  The really frustrating part of the whole ordeal was that I had initially liked her quite a bit. But ever since that first dinner when she had come off as being this spoiled little local girl, she started to rub me the wrong way. I wondered if she was taking this partnership thing to her head. Did she think I wanted to do it?

  Honestly, that wasn’t a fair question because I did want her helping me out… in a way. She had the local connections and I had checked around and found that The Pine Way was a highly respected business with a deep-rooted family tradition. It made good business sense for me to align myself with her.

  But if her current attitude over the last few days was any indication, I wasn’t exactly sure how long the partnership would last.

  Truthfully, that’s why I had agreed to this trip. It was a practice run of sorts to see how well we worked together—to see if she’d maybe drop the attitude once we were up in the air and she realized that I was doing her a pretty big favor. Hell, I’d ever tipped the freight company that had delivered her equipment one hundred bucks. I’d lend a hand, making sure that she wouldn’t have to do any heavy lifting.

  And still, not so much as a thanks from Mac.

  I sighed as she drew closer. I was wiping down the plane’s windshield, perched carefully over the water. The plane was still parked behind Tanner’s Fresh Fish Market, as I had paid a bit extra to park it there until I found a better place.

  “It looks nice,” Mac said as she approached the plane. “You’ve washed it?”

  “And waxed it.”

  She nodded slowly. It could tell it pained her to pay me or the plane any sort of compliment.

  “I also had the one mechanic in Sitka that knew anything about planes to look over it.”

  “Nelson Britt, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s good. Well known with the locals.”

  She said locals as if it made her much better than me. She very badly wanted me to feel that I was the outsider that had swooped in and stolen her dreams.

  “Anyway,” I said, determined not to let her get under my skin, “he tweaked a few things and gave it the a-ok. So we’re good to go. All of your stuff is loaded up in the back and we’re ready to fly.”

  “Good.”

  Good, I thought. Still no thanks.

  I reached up and opened the small cockpit door for her. “Ladies first,” I said, doing my best to sound genuine and chivalrous.

  She looked into the plane as if she was inspecting a questionable melon at the super market. She took a step closer, as if she intended to pull herself up and crawl inside, but then hesitated.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  You’re sure you can fly?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes. My pilot’s license is on board. If you like, I can give you the phone number of my flight instructor. He may even be able to email us his notes and the results from my tests.”

  The jab annoyed her, which was evident by the menacing look she gave me. She said nothing and pulled herself up by the small metal bar installed along the edge of the floor. I had secretly been hoping that she would struggle with it, but she was pretty agile. She climbed over the driver’s seat and into the passenger seat. When she was sitting as comfortably as she could get, she looked out of the window, into the water. I saw something pass across her face—something that might have been fear.

  Oh, this is going to be fun, I thought.

  I climbed into the cockpit and strapped myself in. She followed suit, taking great care to watch me, making sure I was following all the proper steps. I then reached between the seats and handed her a clipboard.

  “This is your invoice. Everything is present and accounted for. It ended up being pretty heavy, so the fuel cost for this trip is going to be more than I expected. I’d appreciate it if you could chip in… partner.”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  As I started the engine and checked all of the panels, it occurred to me that things were beginning to feel strange between Mac and I. We’d never really gotten along since the whole ordeal with the plane. But still, there had been that lurking fact that we had been fairly timid and borderline flirtatious with each other before it had happened.

  But now there was nothing but angst between us. It felt thick and sharp into small interior space of the cabin.

  “Have you flown before?” I asked her.

  “Of course.”

  “In a small personal plane like this?”

  “Once… when I was ten.”

  I almost said I guess that’s why you look constipated right now, then but I kept it to myself. I really did want to try to make it to Queen Charlotte Island without us blowing up at each other. While I did want to get under her skin the way she had gotten under mine, I didn’t want to enrage her.

  Take off went smoothly and moment before we left the water, a few small choppy waves slapped the floats. I noticed Mac grow rigid in her seat and I didn’t feel at all bad when I took a great deal of pleasure from it.

  ****

  We had been in the air for twenty minutes before either of us spoke. I hated the fact that I broke the silence. It felt like we were engaged in a childish Quiet Game and by speaking, I was essentially admitting defeat.

  “So your grandfather runs a business sort of similar to the Pine Way, right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  I waited before I said anything else. She was being short with me, but she was turned away and looking out of the window. The cloud cover was minimal, showing the pristine blue sky ahead of us. The sea sparked below, the coast barely visible to the right. I guessed that Mac was either deep in thought about something or uneasy about the height.

  “I assure you,” I said. “I’m a perfectly safe pilot.”

  She only nodded, but she turned to me finally. She looked at me like I was a snake she had just found under an overturned log. I didn’t mind. She was sizing me up…trying to figure me out. I’d felt that same stare from several army instructors during my time in the service.

  “Let me ask you something,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  “What is it that made you come to Sitka?”

  I smirked. “Are you genuinely interested or are you trying to figure out the path of events that led me to Sitka and eventually buy a plane that you woul
d have otherwise ended up owning?”

  “Both,” she said angrily.

  Everything came to the tip of my tongue then. I could have easily told her everything: who I really was and why I had left a so-called glamorous life behind. In fact, I wanted to tell her. I felt like I needed to tell someone. Before all was said and done, I was pretty sure the entire story would come up in a therapy session in the future.

  But I wasn’t ready… especially not now. If I ever did spill the beans on who I was and why I was in Sitka, it certainly wasn’t going to be to Mac. So I fed her the ruse. As I told her, I realized it was the first time the topic had been breached with more than passing since I had moved into the cabin on Moose Hill.

  “Call it a midlife crisis,” I said. “I just got tired of the life I was living. I wanted something different. Something unique.”

  “What did you do for a living?” she asked. “You must have had a decent job if you could just drop money on this plane without batting an eye.”

  “I batted my eyes several times, actually,” I said. “And yes, my job paid nicely. But the weight that came with the duties and the paycheck just weren’t worth it.”

  “So you just ran away?”

  “In a sense. And… do I hear judgment in your tone?”

  She looked away quickly, once again staring out to the endless blue ahead of us. It really was a gorgeous day. It would have been perfect if the mood within the cockpit was more pleasant. I hated myself for thinking such a thing, but I wondered how her tune might change if I told her who I really was—if I told her that she was actually flying with Devlin Stone.

  It was so tempting. Of course, such a revelation coming at a little over twenty-thousand feet in the air while trapped in the cockpit together might be a bit much. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “What?” Mac asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re smiling about nothing?”

  “Yes. I do it from time to time.”

  “Some might say that’s a sign of lunacy.”

  “Others might say it’s a sign that someone tries to make the best of an otherwise miserable situation.”