I wanted that trust. I wanted her to feel safe enough to complain, to rant and rail and cry, but knew I’d have to earn that place in her life. Victoria had handed me everything on a silver platter, made me believe she loved me. But I was smarter than that now, and I knew a woman’s heart had to be earned.
Hunger bubbled up in my own stomach as I turned to her.
“We should go run by the cafe real quick, get some food before we head back.”
She nodded and we walked, shoulder-to-shoulder, to the only thing that resembled a restaurant in this podunk little town. They only served a few things and all were excellent. I just learned the first time I came not to ask what kind of meat was in the pot roast. It never was beef. Sometimes it was moose, sometimes caribou. When we entered, everyone turned to stare and when they saw Anna, a handful came over to ask her how she was. Not me. Her.
Anna answered their questions gracefully, with jokes and gentle ribbings all around. I felt a slight tug in my chest as I watched her around these people who obviously cared for her. And she obviously cared for them.
So why is she leaving?
She asked after everyone’s spouses, kids, grandkids, random aches and pains. The entire small cafe talked as we sat in our booth and I, once again, felt a slight pang at the sense of community, of friendship. I’d been here before, but I’d been the outsider and hadn’t received this kind of reception. Still was. It had been a long time since I had been around people, much less a group that actually gave a damn about each other. I missed it and that surprised the hell out of me.
I’d spent years in corporate boardrooms, building my teams, tackling a seemingly impossible task together. I loved that aspect of building something from nothing. And I’d let one woman, a woman—I realized now—I barely knew, wreck me and make me doubt myself in a fundamental way.
With Anna, I never stopped to think long enough to doubt myself. She made me uninhibited, spontaneous and a little out of control. She made me feel alive and challenged me in a way Victoria never had.
I lost myself in thought while Anna told one of the older ladies that she would help the woman move some of her furniture around when Anna stopped by with deliveries next time. Then an old guy across the cafe started talking to his friends about how everyone had helped another resident raise a roof the weekend before. So few people lived in this town and yet they helped each other any way they could.
Was this how it was, back in Seattle? Had I simply forgotten?
The fog covering my emotions lifted as if the need to isolate myself became less as I sat next to this woman and her neighbors. A little bit of the drive that I feared Victoria had crushed out of me sputtered back to life as I soaked in the friendly, supportive atmosphere, the tightly knit group of people had all known each other for years.
Anna turned away from her friends, her fellow townies, and refocused her attention on me. My breath stilled a bit at the sight of her green eyes as they glanced toward me. She smiled briefly and ordered for both of us when the waitress came.
“What?” she asked when I kept staring at her. “You don’t like caribou hot dogs?”
I gave a slight shoulder shrug. “Never had them.”
She grinned and pulled a course, white napkin from the dispenser that rested on the table next to the salt and pepper shakers. “You’ll love ‘em. My favorite.”
In my previous life, that would’ve never happened, a woman ordering for me. In this life, I began to see that there was no way around Anna’s impetuous behavior. She was completely unpredictable, and I loved it. She made me feel alive. Which brought me full circle.
“Why are you leaving Alaska? Won’t you miss it?” I wondered. Perhaps asking her in a diner full of friends wasn’t the best place, but I wanted to know. Why would she leave behind everyone she knew and loved?
I knew why I had left Seattle, but Anna? She was different. She belonged. These people weren’t just acquaintances or employees, they were friends and neighbors. Family. They cared about her.
She took a moment and collected herself, waiting to respond until after the waitress dropped off our drinks.
“My mom died when I was four, a snowmobiling accident if you must know. I don’t really remember her, but Dad was crazy about her. He and I flew deliveries and packages all over after she died. He taught me how to fly and that plane on your dock was his. He died a year ago, like I said. Died in his sleep. Doc said it was a heart attack.”
She took a moment and paused, clearly upset at the memory. I considered jumping in to apologize but she took off again.
“After Dad died, I just started thinking, ‘What’s the point?’ You know? What’s the point of me being here, doing this, when I don’t have any reason to stay? I could finally get out of here. Go see the world. Travel. Start a new charter business somewhere new. I could do a lot,” she finished, her eyes misty. “I’ve been taking business and management classes online to finish my bachelor’s degree. I’m hoping that, when I do finally leave, I can start my own charter business flying tourists around. Maybe even manage a small airport. But without the money from selling Dad’s house, I can’t leave yet. Soon, though,” Anna added quietly. She almost smiled, but then seemed to remember that this little show-n-tell session was all thanks to me asking.