“Can I sit for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He sits next to me, close, and pulls me to him, my back to his chest. He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Thank you for what you did.”
I lean against him and allow myself to be weak for just a moment. Imagine we’re in a relationship and he’s willing to help me because he’s in love with me. It’s all I need. Just a delusional moment to pretend this broken man can hold my burden.
“You’re welcome.”
I stumble downstairs the next morning, the scent of coffee leading the way. Rick hadn’t stayed long after that, brushing a kiss to my jaw before going back to bed. He’d wanted to stay. Or maybe that had been my longing. I think he would have, if I would have asked, but after the snow stops I’ll never see him again and I don’t want a taste of what I can’t keep.
There’s a note leaning against the coffeemaker telling me there’s cereal and milk if I like the cold stuff, and instant oatmeal if I want something hot. There’s no evidence he made breakfast for himself.
The lighthouse feels empty; his bedroom door’s open but he’s not there, and his bed is made. He must have an office that he hasn’t shown me and keeping a place secret to hide from me is his right. He could be upstairs, looking over the view or trying to see if the storm will stop soon, but I don’t think he’d chance the stairs after what happened yesterday. No, he’s around somewhere, but I have no choice but to let him be. I wouldn’t begin to know where to look.
I pour a cup of coffee and use less milk than I normally do. If that’s all Rick has left, it’s not very much. I skip the cold cereal and the oatmeal but eat a piece of toast over the sink. Trying to keep myself to a schedule, I shower and dress in a pair of pajama bottoms, this time paired with a tank top and cardigan. Cozy and comfortable. After I call Talia, I’ll read and look for jobs for the rest of the day. Rick didn’t say he quit or sold his company, and he could be working. I don’t have an article to write, and I wouldn’t anyway. I’m going to get fired when I drive back to Portland, and the Pioneer doesn’t need any freebie articles.
I’m a little nervous about going up the stairs to the top alone, but I liked letting the snow whip around me. Without Rick’s steady presence behind me, I don’t want to slip and fall, and I go slowly. The railing feels safely anchored to the steps, but unconsciously, I lean toward the concrete wall. The steps are wide but steep, and my heart’s pounding by the time I reach the metal staircase that opens to the glass enclosure. The view is identical to yesterday’s. Snow, snow, and more snow. Visibility is near zero, and the weather app on my phone says more than a foot has already fallen since the night it trapped me here.
When this much snow drops on Portland or Cedar Hill, time stands still. Even when the snow stops, Old Harbor will need days to dig itself out. I’m fortunate Rick puts up with my company. It would be a very long week if he didn’t.
Ignoring the uncomfortable-looking metal chair, I sink onto the cold floor and bundle my cardigan around me. Maybe later I’ll bring a book up here. The light brightens my spirits.
“Hey,” I say, when my sister answers. “How are you? Is the weather still clear?”
There’s laughter in the background.
“Yeah. It’s fine, blue skies. Walt stopped by, asked if I’d heard from you. He gave me a ride to campus, but it’s nice enough I can walk home later. I just got out of class.”
“Sorry.” I wince. “I didn’t look at the time.”
“Not a big deal. I have a few minutes until my next one. He’s worried about you and said he’s been trying to get his bosses to change their minds.”
“They won’t, and I’m not getting the interview, either. Rick won’t talk to me, and the poor guy...he’s had such a shitty time. I would feel terrible to keep asking. It’s to the point all I’m doing now is trying to keep from going crazy until I can get out of here.”
The voices in the background fade, and Talia sounds clearer when she asks, “What’s he like? Rickard Mercer? All his money...can you imagine it? Marry him and let it solve all our problems.” She laughs.
“His ex-wife blames him for getting hurt. I don’t think he’s going to be jumping into a relationship any time soon.” I don’t like how a jab of disappointment pokes at my heart. It’s not Rick Mercer I’m after. It’s any good, stable man who could maybe help me for one fucking second instead of me having to do everything alone.
“Did he say that? The blame part, I mean. They always looked so in love on the gossip sites.”
“Not in so many words, but yeah. He’s still in a lot of pain, and yesterday afternoon I had to massage a knot out of his back. I asked him why he was on the site in the first place, and he said it was his job to work with his employees. I would imagine he’d feel a lot guiltier if he hadn’t been hurt the day those two men lost their lives.”
“You like him, then.” Talia has always been perceptive. I think when she graduates she’ll be a wonderful therapist. She has so much compassion, and after years of rehab, empathy, too.
“Yeah, I do. Underneath the anger, he’s a nice guy. If he wasn’t, I’d be sleeping in my car.”
“Did you explain why you wanted the interview? Walt really doesn’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to leave, but I’ve always reported with my heart and I never, ever, pushed aside my principles and integrity. I’m not going to badger him. He’s had enough of it, and I’ve already told him anything he tells me is off the record. I think, more than anything, he could use a friend. So many people blame him for that accident, it’s not fair.”
She sucks in a breath. “You more than like him.”
I scoff. “What good would that do me?”
“Devyn.”
“What?”