Gloria and Kristine had been right, Grace decided, strolling along the road at Patrick’s Point State Park. She needed to get out and explore the Northcoast instead of running off to San Francisco every weekend. After finding such a treasure at the poetry read, she had bought a book of local hikes and selected one to try each weekend.
The dark forested area opened to a small meadow that afforded a view of cliffs to the north and the pounding ocean below. She stood at a fork. In addition to the road splitting for drivers, walking trails twisted off in multiple directions. With no particular destination in mind, she turned left, thinking it looked like the most direct way to view the ocean. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, so she turned. It wasn’t a sound that put her on guard but a feeling, like she was being watched. Her eyes traveled up and found Robyn standing atop a rock formation adjacent to the meadow, her hands buried in the pockets of a peacoat. Her stance and expression made her look like the captain of a ship. Nothing but trouble could come from being interested in someone so aloof and cold, Grace mused.
She’d taken to thinking of Robyn as The Sourpuss after she had been so easily dismissed following that first music session with Jen. Robyn had been nowhere in sight the other times she’d been to the studio. At first it was just her cello and Jen’s violin, but quickly two more, a violin teacher from the school in Blue Lake and a violist Jen played with in the Community Orchestra. Think about that, she told herself. Focus on the good energy to be found instead of the sour landlady.
Turning on her heel, she continued out to the Rim Trail, enjoying the way it ducked deep into the dark coverage of the trees and then wove out to the very edge of the cliff where she could watch the waves crash against the rocky shore far below. On the coast, the sun quickly warmed her, but as soon as the path dipped back into the forest, she shivered, the temperature shift as notable as the frostiness she felt whenever she’d encountered Robyn. Arcata was small enough that their paths crossed a few times a week. She recalled passing Robyn on the footbridge to campus just the other day. She didn’t expect Robyn to stop and talk to her but the pursed lips and curt nod surprisingly dampened her spirits.
The next time she emerged from the trees, she saw a massive rock off the coast to the north. A trail snaked from the cliff down to water level and back up again to the almost island. She could continue along the path, but she had no idea whether the trail was going to take her back to the road and main gate. She’d learned that she needed to turn around before she felt tired. More than once, she’d walked much further than where her halfway point should have been. The rock face intrigued her, so she decided to retrace her steps on the Rim Trail and make the interesting outcropping her last destination before heading back to her car.
By the time she made it back to the trail that stair-cased down the cliff, another figure was out on the rock itself. Grace frowned, recognizing Robyn once again. She almost turned to the road but steeled herself instead. There was no reason for Robyn to make her feel unwelcome. Even in the full sun, hiking down to water level and then out over the ocean, the salty air had more of a bite. Grace zipped her coat and shoved her hands deep in the pockets.
She stood on a patio of flat stones catching her breath, marveling at someone’s handiwork that made her feel like she was standing on a castle turret. Though there was only one trail out to the rock, and she had not passed Robyn, she didn’t find her immediately. Once Grace reached the rock wall, she spotted her on a plateau further up the rock. She faced the ocean, still and alone. For an instant, Grace welcomed the opportunity to study her before she became aware of Grace’s presence. Grace wondered what she was thinking, face turned to the sea with her eyes tightly closed. But then Robyn must have felt her presence because she turned her head and found Grace.
The faraway look vanished, replaced by the familiar guardedness. Despite the prickly shift in Robyn’s demeanor, Grace felt Robyn’s eyes quickly skim over her. She felt betrayed by her body as it warmed at the attention. Everything about Robyn’s stance told Grace to keep her distance, yet her body declared how very much it would like to step into the obvious strength of those arms. Instinctively, she knew how her smaller frame would mesh with Robyn’s. She pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed them over her chest, feeling the need to protect herself.
Robyn’s gaze fell away, and it struck Grace that the expression she was having trouble defining was one of loss and sadness. She’d never seen Robyn as anything but capable and composed—not vulnerable. It frustrated her that the woman took up any of her brain space, that she could not simply accept that Robyn didn’t want anything to do with her. The remoteness made her more interested, not less.
People usually like me, Grace insisted internally. It made her good at her job. She could pull people out and make them feel comfortable. Why that didn’t work on Robyn stymied her. She was dogged though, another quality that suited her for the workplace and made her decide to stand at the rock wall until Robyn descended. Minutes passed, and though she kept her eyes on the ocean, she could feel Robyn’s gaze shift to her every so often when she checked to see if her escape route had cleared.
Grace’s feet started to get cold, and she zipped her coat up to her chin to ward off the biting wind coming off the ocean. She didn’t care if she froze. Robyn was going to have to walk by her.