I offer an encouraging smile. “Not yet.” Just because I had to give up on my dream doesn’t mean he has to.
His chest rises and falls. Then he swings his sledgehammer to the floor to rest it against a wall and heads toward a closet door.
The goldie pads after him, tongue hanging out.
He retrieves a leash. “Wanna go on a walk, Maverick?”
The dog might as well have been flying a jet with how fast he runs toward me, then back to his master. I hope I can control him and not end up like Goose inTop Gun.
“Sit.”
Maverick sits.
Okay, I can handle him.
Nathan clips on his leash and hands it to me. “How far are you going?”
I’m new to this running thing, so not more than 5K. If I make it that far. “I really have no idea what’s around. Are there any trails?”
He stares at the floor, evidently deep in thought. “Do you have an ORCA card?”
“A what?”
He smiles, but its brilliance is hidden by the closet door when he dives back inside. He reappears with his backpack and pulls out what appears to be a credit card. “It’s a pass for the light-rail train.”
I frown. How far do I have to go for a walk? “They let dogs on the train?”
“They do. And Maverick is used to it.” He waves the card for me to take. “Ride it south away from the city for one stop—it’s the only stop—then head downhill. At the bottom is a trailhead for a great wooded path leading to a marina with a coffee shop. You’ll love it.”
I take the card with all the skepticism of Larry. “I’m still on reserve. If they call me out, will I be able to make it to the airport within two hours?”
Two hours is the minimum call-out time. Crew Scheduling could very well call to award me a trip for tomorrow. And that’sifI get called. Based on seniority, there are still two newer flight attendants who’ll be called out ahead of me. Not to mention there are currently no trips in Open Time. But I have to prepare for the worst-case scenario. While on probation, we don’t get second chances.
Nathan plants his hands on his hips, still looking down rather than at me. Like he has things to do and I’m inconveniencing him. “You have my number, right?”
Oh, that’s right. I do. “You put it in my phone so I could send pictures to our crew in San Antonio.” I probably should have texted before coming over.
He nods and leads me back to the front door he’d left wide open. “Then just call me. I’ll come pick you up if needed.”
Maverick and I follow him, Maverick with much more excitement. I was already cautious of going somewhere new by myself, and Nathan’s behavior is not very reassuring. He’s going out of his way to help me, but it seems to be because he wants me out of his way. “I can call an Uber.”
He finally lifts his eyes to meet mine, though his smirk is more entertained than adoring. “An Uber driver might not want a pet in their vehicle. Call me.”
“Okay ...” I step onto the stoop but hesitate.
He closes the door in my face.
“Well, boy.” I turn away and head down the hill that will take me to the train, still addressing the dog. “Guess his attraction was all in my imagination. Which is a good thing. And he’s a good friend to let me take you. We’ll just walk until we get to the trail, then we can jog.”
I have no trouble with the train. Most passengers dragging suitcases are heading the opposite direction. As we roll along, I do a search of “trails by me” so I can have a digital map. It shows pictures of the paved pathway that winds alongside a creek through the trees to a harbor. If ever there was a place to start jogging, this is it.
The trail is covered in leaves, and it’s a little longer than I’d wanted to go, but it’s so pretty that I don’t even notice. I set my watch to time the workout and jog/walk at an enjoyable pace. I’d always thought running would be a monotonous sport, but the scenery constantly changes—as opposed to dancing in the same studio every day.
I smile and wave to passersby. Little dogs freak out whenever they see Maverick, but he just watches them with mild curiosity. It’s a reminder that the more comfortable I become in my new career, the less I’ll have to freak out about. Perhaps I’d been comfortable for too long and needed something new to stretch me.
My head counts my steps along with beats to music. Breathe in twothree four, breathe out six seven eight. Each sip of air is chilly but invigorating and smells fresh, like mud and undergrowth. The barren trees let plenty of light filter in, while moss, fern, and pines color over the neutral tones with vibrant shades of green.
After about twenty-five minutes, I burst out into some kind of camp with lodges. I think I might be trespassing, but then I see a bridge to the beach beyond. Silvery water beckons, and I’m catching my breath to the sound of waves lapping the shore. A seagull trills and dips toward the surf. I could get used to running with all this beauty as a reward.
