He thanked me, and I could feel him watching me as I returned upstairs. I threw my clothes and sheets in the wash. Then I walked around the house until I got bored enough to go back to the living room. I charged my phone and tried to call my sister. Service was choppy, and with that weak signal, I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t even get my messages to send.
Thankfully, Trey’s laptop charger worked on my computer, so I could turn it on. I looked through my folders, thought of all I had to do, scrolled through my unread emails. I opened a half-edited manuscript and glanced at the most recent notes. I thought about turning in an assignment I had due, then wondered if I’d even go back to my internship.
Sharing this space with Trey was easier than I had thought. Though we barely talked, the silence was comfortable. The only problem was how much he distracted me.
I looked over at him every time he drew the lines in what must have been a blueprint or made measurements and calculated dimensions. He was concentrating so hard that lines appeared on his forehead, and he rubbed his nose and temples compulsively when he was trying to figure things out. Because the ink from his black marker had gotten on his fingers, he soon had black streaks all over his face. That tickled me.
For a moment, I was blinded by the light that entered the window. I stood and ran over to the door. The sun was out. I stepped outside. The rain was gone, the sky had patches of blue, the light was bright and warm, the damp grass smelled delightful. There was even a rainbow in the sky. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the cool, clean air. I could hear the sea again, serene.
When I opened my eyes, Trey was standing there watching me.
“I’m hungry.”
I could have said something more poetic, but my hunger was stronger than my inspiration.
“Everything we had in the fridge is spoiled,” he said. “In the cabinet, there’s just a packet of pasta, a jar of tomato sauce, some powdered mashed potatoes, and I think a jar of mushrooms.”
I frowned.
“You think the roads are okay? I know a restaurant in town where the food is to die for.”
He grinned. “A hot cooked meal. Now you’re speaking my language. Besides, I need to go to the town hall to get the blueprints for this house.”
“Let’s give it a shot, then,” I said.
I was ready to get out of there, almost as if I were afraid the world had vanished during the storm. I needed sun and air. And fries and chocolate cake. I’m a simple woman—I’ve never asked for much to be happy.
Trey had driven to the island in a huge black SUV. One of those monstrous things with a grille on the front and lights on the roof and an exhaust pipe sticking up in the back.
“Are you trying to compensate for something?”
He smiled and shook his head. “You try and drive a regular car through Kluane National Park, the Saint Elias Mountains, or the Rockies and see how far you get.”
“Did you do all that?”
“More than once. I like all that stuff: climbing, snowboarding, dogsledding… If you can do it in the mountains, I’m up for it, especially in wintertime.”
“What about staring at the countryside from a comfy seat on a porch, with a cup of hot chocolate in your hands and a wool blanket across your legs?” I smirked.
“I like that, too,” he said.
We got into his car and drove off. The roads were muddy, and much of the terrain was flooded. Where I had seen fields of green grass before, there were now lakes connected by channels of water. No matter where you looked, you could see the sun shining. When we got to town, we saw the damage: fallen branches, broken signs, gaps in the road where the water had rushed through. Access to the port was blocked, and a group of men was busy there with concrete blocks and construction materials. It had been worse than I’d thought.
The town hall was a building of wood and red brick next to the church, which was all white apart from its faded gray roof. We went inside and shut the creaking door behind us.
A woman sitting behind the information counter stood up, smiling so wide her eyes seemed to almost disappear. After a few niceties, Trey told her what he needed. She told him to fill out a form, then led us to a room on the upper floor, where she dug through the plans on a shelf until she found the correct blueprints, which she helped us copy.
We decided to walk to the restaurant, since it was close by. Trey seemed lost in worrisome thoughts that wrinkled his forehead.
In a moment of weakness, I observed his faded jeans, his tight white shirt, and his tan. There was something special about his hard, masculine features, which were handsome in a classical way. I shivered, realizing how much he attracted me and how irritated that made me feel.
Turning back to the road, I tried to think of a way to dispel those four years of resentment. Because I had the feeling there were parts of him I hated and others I accepted. And that contradiction was making me turn in circles when what I needed was to move on.
“There it is,” I said, pointing at the restaurant.
The worry vanished from his face. “I hope it’s as good as you say, because I’m dying of hunger.”
“Want to bet on it?”
