Nick needed to talk to Adams, but finding his friend proved harder than he’d thought when he awoke to an empty house. No note, no Lisa either, just the dregs of a protein shake left in the blender in the sink and two dirty glasses. Nick did the dishes while he texted Adams, hoping he wasn’t already out on the water. Nick’s mission couldn’t wait. He finally tracked him down at the boat docks on the other side of the town, the marina taking advantage of the bay where the Amelia River fed into the ocean. Nick could have walked it, but he was in a bit of a hurry, so he took his truck, pulling in next to a battered old VW Bug.
A palm tree-lined path led from the parking lot to a long white building with a covered porch running its length. It looked out on docks full of boats of all shapes, sizes, ages, and price points from large yachts down to scrubby little fishing boats barely big enough for two. Nick took the meandering wooden path to Adams’s boat, which fell on the newer and larger end of the spectrum—a clear pleasure cruiser with spacious cabin, long covered viewing deck with seating, and giant dual outboard motors.
The jaunty red-and-teal trim on the boat looked cheerful in the morning light, and Adams was in good spirits as he waved to Nick from the stern. Too bad I’m about to be a dark cloud.
“Nowicki! I’m just getting to some cleaning that I pushed off over the holidays.” Despite it being December, Adams was shirtless in white shorts, several tattoos he hadn’t had in the service visible. Cleaning supplies surrounded him as he waved Nick to come aboard. “Lisa’s teaching a Zumba class, but she’ll be around later.”
“Show me what I can do to help.” This conversation would be easier if his hands were occupied. Adams passed him a rag from a bucket and set him to wiping down seats while he mopped the boat deck.
“So what’s eating you?” Adams asked as they worked.
Damn him. He’d always been perceptive to the moods of others, sometimes too much so. It had made him a good MP and even better friend, but it also made it hard to be cagey, hold stuff back.
“Well…” Despite having rehearsed this on the way over, he wasn’t sure where to begin. “I kind of met someone when I was stationed up north.”
“Oh yeah? Serious someone like Micah was or more of a fling?” Adams continued mopping, apparently not terribly surprised by this line of conversation.
“Was supposed to be a fling,” Nick admitted. And wasn’t that the entire crux of the matter—this thing that was supposed to have been so simple was now anything but. “And now… It’s different from what Micah was. Not sure I’ve ever felt like this before, to be honest.”
“Ah. You’ve got it bad then, man. Fucking sucks when feelings get involved.”
“Word.” On that, they could agree. All this had been so much less complicated before he’d started feeling unexpected things, started changing in surprising ways. “Anyway…”
“You’re missing him?” Adams guessed.
“Yeah. Keep thinking about New Year’s and him being alone—it’s his birthday too—and I was thinking about maybe trying to get back there. And then get back to you after the first, of course. I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch.”
“Nowicki.” Adams’s usual jovial voice turned more sober. “You wouldn’t be leaving me in the lurch if you decide the beach life’s not for you. We’ve got plenty of old buddies looking for fresh starts. Sure, I’d like it if you could stick around and I sure was planning on the cash, but I’m not gonna handcuff you to the boat.”
“So you’re not mad?” Nick asked carefully, giving extra attention to the seat he was wiping down. He’d built this all up in his head into this big confrontation, an obstacle that he couldn’t get around. It made him slightly light-headed, realizing how much of that had been in his own fool mind, trapped by all the shoulds and musts and ought-tos rolling around in there.
Adams shrugged and leaned on his mop. “Confused, yeah. Irritated, maybe.”
“Maybe I could still invest…” Now that his thinking was freer, he was able to see possibilities that his all-or-nothing mindset hadn’t allowed before.
“We can work that out, yeah. And if you’re not able to stick around, I’ll get over it. Now, the real question is how are you going to get back in time for New Year’s? Tomorrow’s the thirtieth already.”
“I can drive it in two days if I push.” Nick was happy to be talking logistics instead of obligations and emotions. “It’s what? Eighteen hours or so?”
Adams snorted. “That’s assuming you’ve got good roads. Not us, of course, but the whole upper Eastern Seaboard is about to be hit with one of those polar vortex things next few days. Weather people are calling it the Holiday Snowpocalypse. No way would I want to drive farther than the Carolinas right now.”
“Hell.” Nick fished out his phone, confirming Adams’s report. “Not sure what I’ll do.”
“About what?” Lisa sauntered up, gifting Adams some takeout coffee and an easy kiss. “Sorry, Nick. Wasn’t sure if you’d be up. Figured it being your first day of retirement, you might want to sleep in.”
“Turns out Nowicki needs to get back north,” Adams explained, filling her in on Nick’s romantic predicament. “But that snowstorm that’s coming is no joke.”
“Maybe if I get a flight that leaves soon?” Nick started clicking around on his phone, wishing for a bigger screen and faster internet.
“Here.” Lisa produced a large tablet and tapped the screen with her pink-lacquered nails. “I can use my phone as a hot spot, and we’ll get you back to your guy.”
But that turned out to be easier than finding a flight from Jacksonville to Syracuse or Watertown. First, a lot of flights were already full or canceled due to the incoming weather. In desperation Nick asked about the train, but that option too was complicated and full of delays.
“Your guy better appreciate all the effort you’re going through,” Lisa teased, but her words hit him smack in the gut. Would Teddy appreciate it? Would he be mad at Nick’s brass in showing up—maybe he’d taken the time apart to realize that Nick wasn’t what he wanted. Even so, he still felt compelled to try.
However, try turned out to be a massive understatement. He felt like he was trapped in some bad comedy, just wanting to get to Teddy but thwarted at every turn. Finally, they got him a flight for the next day, but of course such was his luck, that flight ended up first delayed and then canceled as snow kept pummeling the East Coast.
“Try again tomorrow,” the tired gate agent advised him, her face sagging with each word, long line of frustrated passengers behind Nick. “We should be able to get you on the noon flight if that one’s not canceled.”
So he ended up back at Adams’s house for a third restless night before another trek to the airport on New Year’s Eve, praying for clear skies. After stops in Charlotte and Philly, he’d get in at 9:00 p.m., which meant he’d have to book it to the car rental place and then drive the limit to get to Mineral Spirits in time. Only Rhonda knew he was coming—he’d kept his texts to Teddy topical, not wanting to risk being told not to come, that all this effort was for naught.
Getting food ready for the party Rhonda’s throwing, Teddy texted. Hope you’re having lots of fun. Buckets of snow here. You’re lucky to have escaped this one.
Was that Teddy’s way of saying he was glad Nick wasn’t there? That he was already mentally moving on? Nick examined each text for little clues until it was time to be back at the airport, where there was indeed enough of a weather break to make travel a go.
The first two flights were uneventful, but he spent a seriously turbulent flight to Syracuse with his oversize frame wedged next to an elderly nun wearing a Syracuse University scarf.
“You coming home?” she asked him.
Yes. No. Not sure. The simple question shouldn’t be so complicated. However, as much as the North Country was not his home, not even close, it did feel a bit like homecoming, each mile he got closer to Teddy. And truth was that in all his travels, no living space had ever felt as good as Teddy’s little cottage. “Not exactly,” he managed to get out. “Seeing a…friend. New Year’s party.”
“That’s nice, dearie, but more snow is supposed to blow up tonight. Wouldn’t want to be out in it, that’s for sure,” she said sagely, pulling her sweater tighter around her.
“No choice.” Nick meant it. No way was he failing this mission. He was going to make it to Teddy, give him his New Year’s and then…
Well, he was still a bit fuzzy on the “and then what” part of his plan, but he knew that he could no longer imagine living without Teddy in his life. Surely they could work something out.
For a guy who’d never had much use for faith, he found himself with an excess of it this past week as he’d learned to trust and have faith in his most secret of dreams, allowed himself to have hope.
Man, it really was going to suck if Teddy quashed every last bit of the hope that had propelled him here, the hope that chased him through the corridors of the Syracuse airport until he ended up at the rental car counters. Because of the holiday and the snow, only one of the places had a car, a tiny little subcompact that barely fit Nick and his backpack. The clerk assured Nick that it had good all-weather radial tires, and Nick had to groan.
“I’ve heard that before. Been there, done that, got the medal.” Nick looked up at the snowy sky, big pillows of flakes piling up outside.
“If you go nice and slowly, you should be fine. And if you’re not fine, I’ve got a lead on some rooms at one of the airport hotels if you’re not feeling up to chancing it.” The diminutive clerk stood a little taller, patting his dark hair taking on a tone worthy of the sternest staff sergeant.
Slowly was the one thing Nick couldn’t afford, not with midnight mere hours away, but he heeded the advice as he set out on I-81, promising the clerk that he would indeed turn back if the roads were too bad. Snow continued to drift down, and he tried to quiet the growing sense of doom in his stomach.
Hang on, Teddy. I’m coming.