“Just to make sure that I got your number right,” Salix said. “While I’ve still got you here.”
I stared at my phone. Even though I’d been participating in the entire conversation, I still couldn’t believe the words on the screen.
“I don’t get back to the city until then,” Salix said when I still hadn’t said anything. “Is Friday okay?”
I texted back, my fingers shaking so much that I had to correct the autocorrect several times.
Ill beat
I’ll be three
I’ll be there.
Salix’s ringtone was a piece of violin music. She glanced at her phone. “Great! I guess I’ll see you on Friday.”
“Friday.” And then, as if the wind had shifted, doubt flooded me. I felt suddenly bloated with it, swollen. Maybe this wasn’t a date at all. Maybe Salix was just being nice. Maybe she was just shopping for a new friend. But I didn’t want a new friend. “I—I—I—” I stuttered. “I like your r-r-rainbow patch.”
“Thanks.” And then her eyes found the ground and she said shyly, “I didn’t see a rainbow on your backpack.”
“No. Wait, you looked? When did you look?”
“At the terminal, when you were wrangling your brothers. No rainbow.”
“Speaking of the ferry, I didn’t see you. Where were you?”
Salix lifted her eyes. Bright green and sparkling. “You looked for me?”
I nodded. The wind shifted again, and the doubt began to ease. “And I didn’t find you.”
“I was down on the vehicle deck in the corner where walk-on passengers leave their dogs. I like to play for them. Keep them company. Know where that is?”
“I know it.” The one place I hadn’t looked. I wished that I had. I wished that I could’ve found her like that, serenading the dogs. “That’s really sweet.”
“Or really silly.”
It was time to make an exit. Dan said it was always better to be the person who hung up first. Or, in this case, walked away first.
“I should g-g-go,” I stammered. “They’re probably wondering what’s taking me so long.”
“See you Friday,” Salix said. “You know the place?”
“I do,” I said. “My dad buys his coffee beans there.”
“Mine too.”
“Rock on, Railroad Kings.”
“Long live ‘O’Ryan’s Train.’?”
“A certain type, right?”
“Definitely a certain type,” I said. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I backed away, so distracted that I only remembered at the last second to check for cars. A truck sped by, and a car, and then I crossed the street and ducked behind the hedge to call my dad. I wanted to thank him for being one of the Railway Kings. I’d never thought twice about it before, but now it mattered. It was currency all of a sudden, and it had bought me a date.
I stood behind the hedge and phoned Dad. It rang and rang while Salix started playing the song again. It sounded absolutely perfect this time, even though she was still playing it her way, which didn’t sound much like the Railway Kings’ version at all. Dad’s phone went to voice mail, but I didn’t want to leave a message. I wanted to tell him all about it. Remember that girl from the bus station? Remember her? You won’t believe it, Dad. I called again. And then a third time, and it rang and rang. And then I saw her again, back at the ferry terminal, and now she’s right here. Rang and rang, and then he finally picked up.
“Maeve!” He barked my name so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “What the hell? Why do you keep calling? Is everything okay? Is it the baby?”
“No, no, Dad. Everyone is fine. I’m great!”
“Jesus,” Dad said. “Then why are you calling and calling? Why didn’t you leave a message?”
“Do you even know how to listen to your messages?”
“Beside the point. I’m busy here, Maeve.” His tone was short, his words staccato. “What do you need?”
“There was this girl, on the ferry….Well, before that, at the bus station. Did you see her? She was playing violin outside? At the edge of the park?”
“No, I did not see a girl playing the violin.”
“Well, I saw her again, in the waiting room at the ferry terminal, and Corbin was telling jokes, but I thought that he was begging for money.”
“Can this wait?” He wasn’t getting it. He didn’t understand how it all came together and lifted up into something bigger. He didn’t understand how serendipity was at play here. Or luck. Or chance. Or God. He wasn’t even listening. Not really. He didn’t care. That was the message I was getting. He didn’t even care.
“I guess.” I wasn’t mad. I should’ve been. But I was just sad. Because it would be different to tell him later. I wanted to tell him now, with all the excitement like a sparkling halo. That wouldn’t last. “I—I—I just really wanted to talk to you.”
“Everybody’s okay?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. In the background I heard the noon chimes from the steam clock in Gastown, which made no sense at all. The movie lot he was working on was far away, down by the Fraser River. Nowhere near Gastown. A half-hour drive away at least. My stomach tightened. He was lying. “I thought you were at work?”
“I had to come downtown for an errand.”
“Oh.” Suddenly there was an edge in his voice. Something dark. Something that could cast shadows. Or doubt. The conversation in the hospital came flooding back, pushing away my sparkly excitement. “You didn’t mention that yesterday.”
“Why would I?” Darker and darker. Sharper and sharper. “Look, I have to go.” Then he was saying something to someone with him. “Just a sec, man. I told you.”
“Who’s with you?” I wanted to know. And I didn’t want to know.
“One of my crew.”
I wished I hadn’t called him in the first place. I wished I’d kept it all to myself.
“Okay. Well. Bye, Dad.”
“Aw, come on, Maeve.” His voice buoyed up suddenly. “Don’t say goodbye like that.”
Maybe he cared. Or maybe he didn’t want me reporting back to Claire that he’d been an asshole on the phone. An asshole who was in Gastown doing who knew what when he was supposed to be on the movie lot. An asshole who was the boss of a big crew. An asshole who could have sent any one of them downtown on “an errand.”
“I can give you two minutes,” he said.
“And then what?”
“I have to get back to the set.”
“What was so important downtown?”
“Really?” The edge was back. “You’re wasting your two minutes? Tell me. A girl. Bus station. Ferry terminal. You’re going to meet her at the airport next?”
Was it a woman he was with? Was that it? He didn’t sound drunk. It had to be a woman. Another affair.
“Dad?” Is it a woman? Are you with a woman, Dad? But the words wouldn’t come, and I gave up.
“One minute, Maeve.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Did you ask her out?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does!”
“You have to go.”
“Don’t make me fish here, Maeve.”