Whitewater Rendezvous

“You look like you belong here,” Megan said aloud without meaning to, wistful wonder in her voice.

“I do belong here.” Chaz’s eyes swept the landscape. “I don’t feel whole…fully alive, in the city. It seems like such an artifi cial existence to me, in many ways.”

“Where do you live?” Megan asked. “Don’t you work in Fairbanks?”

“Yes, I teach biology at the university. But I live forty miles outside the city. I’m pretty isolated. My nearest neighbor is six miles away.”

“I live in a condo overlooking Lake Michigan. There are probably four or fi ve hundred people in my building.”

There was silence as the differences in their worlds sank in.

“Do you miss it?” Chaz asked, in a way that suggested there was signifi cance to the answer.

Megan pursed her lips and thought about that for several moments.

“Yes and no.” One side of her mouth twitched upwards in a half smile.

“I’m surprised at how much I actually enjoy this camping stuff. But I will admit that the fi rst day or two out here, I did really miss that long, hot shower in the morning. And my nice feather bed. And I would have said my triple-shot cappuccinos, but you’ve made this trip entirely tolerable on the coffee front, I must say.”

“Speaking of, would you like an after-dinner espresso?” Chaz said.

“I’d like that very much, thank you.”

“How about your job? Do you miss that? I expect it’s pretty exciting to work at a television network.” Chaz measured coffee and water and put the espresso pot on the stove.

“I like it, most of the time,” Megan said. “It’s different every day—you never know what’s going to happen. A quiet day can explode in activity at any moment. That’s a big plus for me. I get bored easily.

And…the money’s good, and I get to travel. Meet interesting people.”

“You’re a vice president, aren’t you? Quite a bit of responsibility and stress goes along with that, I expect.”

“Stressful is the right word for it. I don’t miss that part, for sure.

Most of the time, I probably work…let’s see, fi fty-fi ve to sixty hours a week.” Megan could feel her whole body tense up at the thought of returning to her old routine. “Seventy or more, when there’s something major happening on a weekend. I’m on call 24-7.”

• 183 •

KIM BALDWIN

“Ugh. That’s awful.” Chaz shook her head. “I can’t imagine being cooped up in any offi ce ten or twelve hours a day, seven days a week, no matter what the job. I’d go nuts.”

“It can get old,” Megan admitted. The long hours wore her down sometimes, to be sure. More often, in recent months, if she dared admit it to herself.

“When do you have any time for yourself? I mean, working sixty or seventy hours doesn’t give you much time for anything but sleeping and eating.”

Megan pondered the question. It was the same thing Justine had been trying to tell her for months. Maybe it was time to start listening.

“I guess I hadn’t thought about how hard I’ve been working in a long time. This trip is the fi rst vacation I’ve taken in…hmm, I guess it’s been more than fi ve years.”

“Five years?” Chaz was wide-eyed in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Megan was a trifl e annoyed at Chaz’s reaction. Like hard work and getting ahead was a terrible thing. “I have a very important position these days,” she said defensively. “It’s diffi cult for me to get away.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Chaz hastened to add. “I just…feel bad for you, that’s all. Even if you enjoy your work…which you obviously do…it’s got to be tough not to have time for yourself, and the ability to get away now and then to really relax and recharge yourself. Get away to a place like this.” She poured their espressos and handed one to Megan. “Mind if I make a personal observation?”

“No. Go ahead.”

“If I might say so, you seem—despite your injury—a lot more relaxed and happy now than when you started this trip.”

Megan sipped the espresso. “Mmm, this is delightful,” she complimented Chaz. “And I guess you could say that’s a fair assessment.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“It seemed as though you didn’t like me very much when you fi rst got here. Or am I wrong?”

Megan sighed. “Yeah, well. That was rather childish of me, and I owe you an apology.”

“I really wasn’t fi shing for one,” Chaz said. “And if you don’t

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Дата добавления: 2015-11-14