Sad Girls

  Days later, I was at Rosie’s with a mug of coffee and a caramel slice. I had my laptop open in front of me, and I was staring sullenly at the screen.

  “Everything okay, sweetheart?” Rosie asked, stopping by my booth.

  I looked up at her and sighed. “I don’t know, Rosie. Ever since Angie wrote to me, I can’t seem to get myself together. I think the possibility of getting published has spooked me. Whenever I write anything, I think it’s amazing—brilliant. Then the next day when I go over my work, I hate it. With a passion.”

  “The one you wrote about the bookshelf is pure genius.”

  “I know, but this is Annie Otto, after all. Every story I write has to be as good as that one, if not better. Angie says I’ll need seven to eight pieces. So far, I’ve written only a couple I’m happy with.”

  She smiled at me. “Just give it some time, Audrey. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

  One day, the weather was exceptionally good. The sky was a dreamy blue, and I didn’t feel like staying in. I called Rosie, who had the day off, and she agreed to meet at the Creamery Arts Center, where the locals held a market every third Sunday.

  I arrived there a little earlier than planned, so I strolled through the busy park where a number of stalls were set up in white tents. A cold wind hit me from nowhere, and I shivered, zipping up my anorak and pulling my wine-colored beanie snugly over my ears. I was kicking myself for not putting on my gloves before I left that morning. My hands were freezing, and I stuck them in my pockets.

  I stopped to admire the bronze statue of dancing elephants when I heard Rosie call out my name.

  “Hi, you!” I said, giving her a quick hug.

  “Hey! I’m early.”

  “So am I!”

  We laughed.

  “How about these elephants, huh?” I said.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” Rosie remarked.

  I nodded. “They look almost alive. Who’s the artist?”

  “Jim Agius. His sculptures are just wonderful.”

  We began our leisurely stroll around the markets, stopping every now and then to admire the wares put out by the locals. Several of the stalls sold handmade jewelry and assorted metalwork. From candelabras to photo frames to pickaxes—it was a mixed bag. There were also cakes, pies, and other baked goods. The aroma that drifted from those stalls made me feel suddenly hungry, and I decided I would take something back with me on the way home.

  Up ahead, I spotted an old-fashioned cart selling chestnuts.

  “Hey, it’s been ages since I’ve had chestnuts,” I said to Rosie. “I love them.”

  “Oh, looks like Gabe’s manning the stall today. You see that tall, gorgeous black dude standing behind the cart?”

  I followed her gaze to where a man in his early twenties was handing an elderly couple a bag of chestnuts.

  “Why don’t you grab us a bag?” she suggested. “I’ll pick us up some coffees, and we’ll have ourselves a little picnic.”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you by the dancing elephants?”

  “Perfect. Make sure you tell Gabe I said hi.”

  As I approached the cart, Gabe looked up, his eyes locking on to mine.

  “Hi,” he said with a warm smile. His eyes were iridescent—like the changing of seasons, a myriad of brown hues married with golden flecks of light. He had angular cheekbones, a shadow of a beard, and a dark blue beanie pulled over his closely cropped hair.

  “Hi,” I replied.

  “Would you like some chestnuts? It’s five dollars a bag.”

  “Sure.”

  Using a pair of tongs, he filled a brown paper bag with chestnuts and passed it to me.

  “You should have them while they’re warm. They taste the best that way.”

  I took one out of the bag and attempted to remove the skin.

  “Here,” he said, reaching over. “Let me show you a neat trick.”

  He put his hand over mine; it was warm from the chestnuts.

  “See, you have to squeeze it like this.” He pressed down gently on my thumb and forefinger. Sure enough, the shell loosened and broke away cleanly, leaving a perfect chestnut behind.

  “Hey, that’s really amazing. Thank you!”

  I dipped into my pocket and handed him a five-dollar bill.

  “You’re welcome. It’s one of those tricks, you know, that will serve you well in life.”

  I laughed. “Is that so?” I popped the chestnut into my mouth. I had forgotten just how good they were.

  “Uh-huh.” He smiled again. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you just visiting, then?”

  I shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t really know. I’ll be staying here for the winter at least, and I’ll just take it from there.”

  “I have a feeling you’re from somewhere a long way away.”

  “I am.”

  “Australia?”

  “The accent is a dead giveaway, isn’t it?”

  He smiled in response. “So you’re on an adventure, then.”

  “I suppose you can say that.”

  “I think that’s really great. I have plans to travel too.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. At the moment, I’m just saving like crazy. I work at my uncle’s garage five days a week, and on weekends, I pick up odd jobs.”

  “Where are you planning to go?”

  “I have it all figured out. Once I get enough cash together, I’m going to Alaska to work on the oil rigs. I hear it can be tough, but on the upside, you earn really good money. So I’ll do that for a few years until I have enough cash for a boat. Then I’m going to sail around the world.”

  “That’s quite a detailed plan.”

  “I believe in having a goal and working hard for it. I mean, you won’t believe it, but I couldn’t even swim a year ago. I knew that had to be fixed if my plans involved being around water. So I set myself a deadline, signed up for lessons, and now I’m a pro.”

  “Hey, that’s really great.”

  “So what about you? Is there something you wish you could do?”

  I thought about the walk this morning, trudging through the snow. Some of it had snuck into my boots and my feet were damp and cold. I was already looking forward to getting home, peeling off my socks, and warming my feet by the fire.

  “I wish I could drive,” I said. Since being here, there had been many situations when driving would have been ideal. Shopping for groceries, for example, would be a heck of a lot easier. What’s more, Graham and Dale left me the keys to their car, so it sure would have been helpful if I had a driver’s license.

  “You can’t drive?”

  “No, I never got my driver’s license when I was back home, and I’m sure it would be tricky to get one while I’m here.”

  “Well, my uncle’s friend is a cop. Why don’t I give him a call and check with him—see what the rules are for visitors?”

  “Oh, no, I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “It’s no problem at all.”

  “Really? That would be great, then, thanks.”

  “I suppose I should get your number, then, so I can let you know what he says.”

  “Yeah, good idea.”

  He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “So where are you staying?”

  “I’m house-sitting for a couple just at the edge of town. Graham and Dale.”

  “Oh, I know who they are. Graham drives a Saab. Totally impractical.” He shook his head. “They are great guys, though; my uncle went to school with Dale.”

  “Small world.”

  He shrugged. “Tell me about it. So . . . your number?” He passed me his phone, and I keyed in my name and number before passing it back.

  “Your name is Audrey?”


  I nodded.

  “I’ve never met an Audrey before. It’s a real pretty name.”

  “Thank you. Oh, Rosie says hi by the way.”

  “You know Rosie?”

  “Yeah, she’s kind of taken me under her wing since I’ve been here.”

  He smiled. “Rosie has a heart of gold—so you’re in good hands.”

  A few days later, Gabe called.

  “Hi, Audrey. I talked to my uncle’s friend about getting a driver’s license here, and he says it’s doable.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Have you got a pen and paper handy?”

  “I’ll grab one.” I stood up, almost stepping on Apple. “Sorry, baby,” I whispered under my breath. She looked up at me with her sweet, doe-like eyes, oblivious to her near-death experience.

  I found a pen in a kitchen drawer and a paper towel on the counter. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “So, first thing you have to do is get together your passport and your birth certificate.”

  “Sure, I have my passport here, and I can get my parents to fax me my birth certificate.”

  Gabe gave me the phone number and address of the registry, and I wrote it down on the paper towel. It was in the basement of the Delta County Courthouse, which happened to be just a short walk away.

  “Now, you’ll have to take a test, but it’s pretty easy. You can pick up the study booklet at the office ahead of time.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.”

  “Once you get your leaner’s permit, you can start taking driving lessons.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little disheartened. “I don’t think I can afford driving lessons at the moment.” I couldn’t believe that hadn’t even occurred to me.

  “Well, I know someone who can help you there.”

  “You do?” I asked. “Who?”

  “Me, of course.”

  “Oh, no, Gabe. I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “I’d be happy to. I taught my nephew last summer. He passed with flying colors.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” I said, feeling reluctant, “but I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Audrey.” His voice was kind and reassuring. “It will be no trouble at all.”

  “I’ve decided to try for my driver’s license, and Gabe’s offered to give me lessons.” I was at the diner, sitting on a stool at the counter. Rosie was brushing some crumbs into the sink with a rag. She stopped and looked up, setting the rag down.

  “Gabe? Since when did the two of you start talking?”

  “I gave him my number—you know, the day we were at the markets.”

  “You gave him your number? You didn’t mention anything about this to me, young lady.”

  I shrugged. “It was for a practical reason, and I didn’t really expect him to call.”

  “Well,” she said, hands on her hips, “this is interesting.”

  “Rosie, don’t read too much into it. It is definitely too soon for me to be thinking about that.”

  “I wasn’t implying anything,” she said, even though it was obvious she was. “But I will say he’s a sweet kid. And,” she smirked, “quite easy on the eyes too.”

  “Really? I didn’t notice,” I lied.

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you didn’t.”

  “So how do you know him, anyway?”

  “I know his uncle Daryl. He runs the local auto repair shop.”

  “Gabe mentioned he works there. He was also telling me about his plans—he wants to sail around the world one day. It’s a pipe dream for most people, isn’t it? But Gabe has figured out how to get there, step by step. I mean, it’s impressive.”

  “I’m telling you now: that kid is going places. Don’t let those good looks fool you. He scored off the charts on his SATs, and they offered him a scholarship to Stanford.”

  “Wow. Why didn’t he take it?”

  “I’ll leave it up to him to tell you.”

  “Do you think I should take the lessons? I don’t want to be a bother. I mean, he seems like a pretty busy guy.”

  “If he’s offering, then yes—why not? I’m sure the two of you would get along like nobody’s business. Plus, imagine how great it would be if you got your license. No more trudging through the snow.”

  I brightened at the thought. “Yeah, I spoke to Graham about it, and he says his insurance will cover me. So I’m free to use his car if I do get my license.”

  “That’s great, honey. I definitely think you should go for it, then. It would make your life a heck of a lot easier.”

  On my first driving lesson, Gabe picked me up in his battered station wagon, and we practiced around the back streets.

  At first, it was terrifying. It felt as if the car was going way too fast and the tires were made of glass and couldn’t possibly keep us pinned to the road.

  “Easy on the brake—you’re doing okay,” said Gabe, after I jammed my foot down sharply on the brake for the hundredth time.

  “Shit—okay.” I took a deep breath.

  “It’s a bit freaky the first time you get behind the wheel, so don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it soon.”

  He was right. After a while, I managed to avoid doing the stop-start thing and drove down the entire length of the street.

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe I’m actually driving!”

  “See? Nothing to it—just takes a bit of getting used to; that’s all,” said Gabe. His face broke into his trademark good-natured grin. “Now signal for the turn up ahead.”

  I continued to drive at a crawl, pulling over each time a car came up behind me. I got used to signaling and making turns. It was actually not that different from playing a video game.

  “So how come you’ve never gone for your license, back home?” Gabe asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I frowned. “I suppose I didn’t have a big enough incentive. I moved out of home after I left school, and my work was in walking distance.” I didn’t want to tell him it was mainly because of my anxiety issue.

  “And I’m sure it doesn’t snow where you were.”

  “No, the weather in Australia is pretty tame compared to here.”

  “How was the test?”

  “It was easy. I mean, a memory game more than anything, and a lot of it was common sense.” I had gone for the written test a few days ago and left the office proudly with my learner’s permit in hand. It felt oddly liberating. I wanted to call Rad and share the good news, but something told me to stay strong. I had come this far on my own. I had to see how much further I could go.

  I signaled for a turn up ahead. “You know what the weird thing is? If I hadn’t stopped at your cart that day, I probably wouldn’t have done this. And I’m so glad I did.”

  “Me too. You know that movie The Matrix—the scene where Morpheus shows Neo how he can download all these different skills?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I think life is kind of like that. You are a toolbox, and you have to add stuff to it and build on it. I think the more tools you have, the better life gets.”

  “I like that idea.”

  “That’s my mission in life. To keep adding to the toolbox.”

  “You know what? I think I’m going to do the same.”

  A few days later, Gabe called to tell me he had something special planned for us the following day.

  “You’ll have to get up before dawn, though. Do you think you can manage that?”

  I groaned inwardly. I was not a morning person.

  “Sure, I can do that. I might need a wake-up call, though.”

  He laughed. “Okay, noted.”

  Next morning, true to his word, my phone went off at five, interrupting a deep and peaceful sleep. Against my better judgment, I had stayed up late the night befor
e working on an idea for a new story. I was so engrossed in it that I lost track of the time. Reluctantly, I reached toward the nightstand and fumbled in the dark for my phone.

  “Hey,” I said, groggily.

  “Good morning.” Gabe’s baritone cut through the chilly air.

  “I’m going back to sleep. It’s too cold to go out.”

  “No, you’re not. Put on some warm clothes and a good pair of hiking boots. I’ll be at your house in twenty minutes.”

  About an hour later, I was riding shotgun in Gabe’s car as we headed out farther and farther away from civilization.

  “It’s not dangerous all the way out here, is it?” I asked.

  “Not really.”

  “What about bears?”

  “It’s winter.” He grinned at me broadly. “They’re all asleep, Audrey.”

  The road got more and more gritty, with stones jumping up and biting the underside of the car. We were driving by a rocky mountain face when Gabe slowed down and parked by the side of the road.

  “We’re here,” he announced cheerfully.

  We got out, and he popped the trunk, grabbed a backpack, and slung it over his shoulders. He pulled out a pair of flashlights and handed one to me.

  “So we’re going for a hike, I guess?”

  “You guessed it.” He motioned to the top of the cliff face that loomed over us at an impossible height. “We’re heading up there.”

  My face fell. “Seriously? In the dark? What if we get lost?”

  “We won’t; I’ve done this a thousand times. I’ll admit it’s a tough track, but it will be worth it when we get up there.”

  “Okay,” I said, still a little reluctant. “Lead the way.”

  By the time we made it near the top, I was struggling to catch my breath, and my legs felt ready to give way. Gabe had just pushed off the last foothold to step onto the summit, and he turned and stretched his hand out to me. “Almost there.”

  I grabbed his hand and, dipping into the last reserves of my energy, lunged upward and over onto the rocky surface. “Wow!” I stammered, as my eyes drank in the view before me. We were caught in that brief moment when the sun is just on the cusp of the horizon; golden streams of light burst from its pale, soft glow. Below us, the wilderness stretched on and on right out to the horizon, and it was like we were the only two people in the world. “This is Ultima,” I said under my breath and wished Rad was here to see this.