A Perfect Life nd Other Stories (4 page)

KATE WOKE WITH a pounding headache. Thirsty and hungry she dragged
herself out of bed, got dressed, and went in search of food. The ship was
quiet. Most of the guests had gone ashore. She made a sandwich from the scraps
left on the lunch buffet, poured a cup of coffee, and found a table outside at
the back of the boat. Warm sunlight eased her aching sinuses. When she finished
eating, she leaned back and stared over the rail.

Sitka Harbor buzzed with activity as fishing boats chugged past
and floatplanes took off from the watery runway. On the shore, steep green
mountains appeared to rise right out of the streets. A swirling breeze mingled
the scents of spruce trees and diesel fuel.

Movement caught her eye. Toward the front of the boat and
silhouetted in the bright light, a deckhand cleaned cabin windows. Smooth arm
strokes swept wide arcs. The person moved a window closer. Up, down, side to
side. Spray, squeegee, wipe the smudges. Next window. The rhythm lulled Kate
such that she was startled when the person, having reached the end of the row,
turned to her and smiled.

“Sitting out Sitka?” Tracy asked.

Kate smiled back, confident her sunglasses hid her puffy red eyes.
“Something like that.”

“You’re not missing much.” Tracy leaned against the wall.

“Really? I heard it was terrific. Paris of the Pacific, according
to your company’s brochure.”

Tracy smiled shyly. Kate found that endearing, yet heartbreaking.

“It’s a tourist town,” Tracy said. “Not my style, anyway.”

For longer than necessary, Tracy held Kate’s gaze, squinting in
the bright light. Kate wished she wasn’t wearing sunglasses so Tracy could see
her eyes. But not under these conditions.

“I didn’t mean to be so brusque yesterday,” Tracy said at last.

“Were you?”

“About why I’m here.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Mind if I join you?” Tracy glanced toward the empty chair at
Kate’s table.

“Not at all. Please do.” Kate silently cursed that today, of all
days, Tracy wanted to chat.

Tracy sat down, placing her squeegee and spray bottle on the deck
beside her. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” She gazed out over the harbor.
“Look, there’s an eagle.”

Kate followed Tracy’s arm to where she pointed but had to force
herself to look beyond the muscled forearm, large watch, and blunt fingers. The
iconic bird, with its white head and tail, sat on a post at the end of a nearby
dock.

“They’re common as crows around here, but I never get sick of
them,” Tracy said. She lowered her hand into her lap.

Kate looked back at Tracy and admired her profile. Tracy turned
and met her gaze. “Do you still want to know why I’m here?”

“Uh, sure.”

Tracy leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “A story as
old as the sea. My girlfriend cheated on me. I left in a huff, which left me
homeless. So I took this job. Thought a change of scenery might clear my head
and distract me.”

A knot formed in Kate’s stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She straightened. “Well, I should get back to work. I
just wanted to apologize. I didn’t want you to think I was rude.” She bent to
get her cleaning supplies and stood. “Enjoy the day.”

Then she was gone. Kate let out a breath, wondering what had just
happened. Had Tracy wanted her to know she was single? To what end? She hadn’t
pursued it further.

A warmth penetrated Kate. A connection had been made. A bit of ice
had broken off the wall and fallen into the sea, its ripples reaching out.

WHEN STEPHANIE FOUND her later, she had moved to the top deck to
stay in the sun, now angled low over the Pacific.

“How was Sitka?”

Stephanie pulled up a chair. “Kind of touristy.”

Kate laughed. “So I’ve heard.”

“How are you?”

Kate told her about Tracy.

“So you are interested.” She smirked.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t think I am. She was this kind of
mythical dyke, but now that we finally talked, if you could call it that, I
don’t feel so obsessed with her.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Stephanie said. “She’s cute.”

“Oh, please. We live on opposite sides of the country. What would
be the point?”

Stephanie looked at her. “True. You wouldn’t move cross country
for me. I just thought maybe you’d learned something from that.”

Kate’s breath caught. “What? Are you still pissed about that—after
ten years? We’ve talked about it. I thought we were okay.”

“I am. I’ve moved on. You’re the one who hasn’t.”

“Um, remember Jill? I think that qualifies as moving on.”

“I mean playing it safe. You say you’re tired of mourning. Well,
stop.”

Kate looked at her friend, stunned. Stephanie’s frank honesty had
attracted Kate to her in the first place, but also pushed her away. Friends,
not lovers, they’d decided in the end, when they’d realized it wouldn’t work,
after Stephanie took the job in Seattle and Kate wouldn’t go with her. “It’s
not that easy . . . I’m not sure I know how—”

“I know.” Stephanie gave Kate’s hand a squeeze. “But even here in
the frozen north, summer arrives, flowers bloom. Look around.” Kate noticed the
eagle still on the post. “There’s beauty to behold. Don’t hold yourself back
because you think it’s expected of you.”

KATE FLOPPED ONTO the couch in the reception area of the Cruise
Alaska office in Juneau, too exhausted to be angry that the airline had screwed
up her reservation. “Rich,” from the cruise company, was trying to sort it out,
but there were no more flights for the day so he was also trying to find her a
hotel room. Kate closed her eyes. She dozed, but woke with a start when someone
sat beside her.

“I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”

Tracy. In full butch glory—cargo shorts, T-shirt, and Tevas. Kate
wore the same thing all summer, so wondered what made that butch. But on Tracy,
the effect accentuated her inner male. Perhaps aided by her furry legs. “Hi.
What brings you here?” She felt warm suddenly.

“Collecting my paycheck. I thought you guys’d be gone. You doing
some sightseeing?”

“Hardly. Steph’s probably home by now. I got delayed.” She
explained the lost reservation.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” Tracy wrinkled her brow and glanced
around the office then back at Kate. “So . . . You aren’t together?”

“No. She lives in Seattle. I live in Boston. Just old buddies.”

Tracy shook her head as a blush spread across her cheeks. “Shoot.
I just assumed . . . Sorry.”

Kate smiled and regarded Tracy. All this time,
she had thought they were a couple. How ironic.

“You okay?” Tracy asked. “Where are you staying?”

“Rich is looking for a room. I’m fine.”

Tracy’s red deepened and spread down her neck. “Well, you know . .
. You’re welcome to stay with me.”

Kate suppressed a chuckle. “Where? Under a bridge? I thought you
were homeless.”

“Oh, that. No, I got a gig cat-sitting for a friend who’s working
the next three tours. His apartment’s not far. We could walk. It has two
bedrooms . . .”

Tracy was a near stranger. Kate knew she had no business going to
some strange apartment with a stranger. Yet Tracy had also begun to stir the
most faint, vaguest feelings inside her. Feelings she had been sure were locked
away forever in a permafrost of grief. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

“Great. Shall we—?” Tracy stood and hoisted Kate’s bag onto her
shoulder.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Kate said.

Tracy dropped the bag. “Sorry. Habit.”

Juneau consists of a sliver of flat land along the shore with the
rest of the town built up the side of a steep mountain ridge. After only a
block of climbing, Kate had to stop and rest. Without saying anything, Tracy
took her bag. Kate didn’t protest this time.

“Sorry about the hill,” Tracy said when they reached the apartment
and Kate bent over to catch her breath while Tracy dug the keys out of her
pocket.

Inside, they were greeted by a large, orange cat. It flopped to
the floor in front of them and rolled over. Kate bent to rub its belly.

They toured the apartment together, then Kate dumped her bags in
the spare room and lay down on the bed. It was dusk when she woke. She blinked
and looked around to orient herself, still feeling the gentle roll of the ship
although she was on land now. In some guy’s apartment. With a woman. She
checked her cell phone. Rich had left a message that she was on standby for the
morning flight or he could get her a seat on the afternoon one if she called
him by five. She checked her watch. Seven o’clock. Too late.

She wandered through the quiet apartment.
Passing the master bedroom, she spotted Tracy, likewise passed out on a
king-sized bed, still in her shorts and T-shirt, the cat—Bill, Tracy had
said—curled against her hip. Kate leaned against the doorjamb. Tracy lay on her
stomach, face turned to the door, peaceful, beautiful. She wondered what it
would be like to slip a hand under her shirt. To rub her back. Kate surprised
herself. Tomorrow they’d part ways and never see each other again. A wave of
sadness washed through her. She pushed away from the door and headed to the
kitchen.

She found Cheerios and milk and was eating at the table when Tracy
stirred. Kate heard a door close, the toilet flush, the faucet run.

“Sleep well?” she greeted Tracy when she came into the kitchen.

“I guess so.” Tracy looked at the empty cereal bowl. “I’m not much
of a host.”

“Don’t worry about it. I fell asleep, too.”

Tracy started opening cabinet doors. “That one, over the toaster,”
Kate said. “I’ve already ransacked the place.”

“Thanks.”

“Spoons are by the dishwasher.”

Tracy was smiling as she sat across from Kate. She poured the
milk, sprinkled some sugar on the cereal, and looked around as though searching
for something. “Napkins anywhere?” she asked.

Kate shook her head. “Not that I could find.” She handed Tracy the
paper towel that had been in her lap. “Here. I was neat.”

Such easy domesticity. Kate felt a mysterious cramp in her belly,
unclear if it was a good thing or not. She told Tracy about Rich’s message.

Tracy nodded, then finished chewing. “If
you’re interested, I could show you around Juneau in the morning.
”

“Sure. So, did you live here? In Juneau . . .
with . . .”

“Yeah.”

“Any worries you’ll run into her?”

Tracy was still.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Yes, I am worried. Running away
doesn’t really solve anything, does it? Just puts it off. I suppose I’ll have
to deal with her at some point. But frankly, I’m more pissed than hurt.”

Tracy’s smile spread warmth throughout Kate. The hairs on the back
of her head tingled.

“So, what do you run away from?” Tracy asked.

Kate looked at her, startled. “Excuse me? Are you a shrink, too?”

“Just nosy. On the boat the other day, you
looked like you were either hung over or had been crying. I thought maybe you’d
had a fight with your missus. Guess I was wrong. I felt bad for you and wanted
to say something, but didn’t know what.”

“Do you ever get so tired of playing a role that you just want to
cry?”

Tracy looked puzzled. “What role are you playing?”

“I was just tired, that’s all.”

In the silence that followed, Kate relaxed. Tracy placed no
demands on her, had no expectations. She was easy to be with.

“Feel like going for a walk?” Tracy asked when she finished
eating. “I need to get some groceries.”

“Can we skip the hills?”

“’Fraid not. Juneau’s pretty much all hills.”

RAINFOREST FOODS WAS a hippy natural foods store, and Kate liked
it immediately. They entered near a buffet of soups and salads. Her hunger
returned with the aroma of pizza under a warming lamp. “Want some?” she asked
as Tracy grabbed a basket.

“Sure,” Tracy said. She headed to the produce section.

While Kate busied herself finding a container and cutting slices,
she glanced over at Tracy, the once mythical dyke now squeezing tomatoes and
sniffing peaches.

They chatted as they wandered the aisles. Tracy’s father had been
a harbor master, that was why she was interested in working on the cruise ship.
“I grew up around boats.”

“In Alaska?”

Tracy shook her head. “I’m from Cape Cod. I
sometimes think about moving back East. Maybe Provincetown,” she said with a
knowing wink.

Kate felt a sudden queasiness.
Don’t come to Massachusetts,
Tracy. We have drunk drivers. Please stay alive
.

An awkward silence followed and Kate figured Tracy would be
expecting her story. But her grief closeted her. Chit chat while wandering a
grocery store aisle wasn’t intended to include a description of your wife’s
death from being crushed by a Ford F150 pickup truck. The last time Kate saw
Jill, it was to identify her body in the morgue.