A Perfect Life nd Other Stories (7 page)

Below and to the west, a flat plain swept to the horizon, dotted
with kettle ponds and striped with ribbons of streams that glittered in the
morning light. Ahead, low mountains rippled in cascading ridges.

After several minutes, Denny circled what looked like a short
stretch of dirt road along a ridgetop. Explaining that it was an old airstrip
from an abandoned mine, she dropped the plane and skittered down the dirt
track. She cut the engine. Slowly, the hum and vibration of the Cessna faded
from her bones.

“Wait’ll you hear the silence,” she said, grinning.

She helped Alice out of the plane and they walked to the side of
the runway, where a flat tundra of shrubs stretched for several hundred yards
before dropping off.

“It’s beautiful,” Alice said, her voice quiet with awe. “Is that a
hiking trail?” she asked, eyeing a cut through the blueberry bushes.

“Animal trail,” Denny said.

Alice looked at Denny. “Shall we explore?”

“That’s why we’re here.” Denny grabbed their
daypacks and water bottles. The narrow path meant they walked single file,
Alice in the lead. They wandered among the trails, taking various turns at
forks and stopping often, Alice digging out a guidebook to identify a plant or
jot a note.

Bending and kneeling to peer under the shrubs, Denny lost herself
in a miniature world as Alice showed her mouse scat, fur, a feather, diminutive
alpine flowers. “I’m used to flying over dramatic landscapes. I never knew it
could be just as dramatic up close.”

At one point, they’d stopped long enough that birds moved in next
to them. A ptarmigan froze on the path ahead.

“You don’t see things like this on a group hike,” Alice said
softly. “Thank you.”

“
I was going to say the same
thing,” Denny said.

At the far end of the ridge, a flat outcrop of rock beckoned. They
sat quietly, with only the breeze whispering through the grasses behind them.
Denny sipped water while Alice scanned the next ridge with her binoculars.

Alice lowered her glasses. “Denny,” she whispered. She pointed to
the right. “Over there. I think it’s a wolf.”

Denny focused her binoculars. “Yes, I see it,” she whispered back.

Brown and lean, the lone wolf zigzagged back and forth through the
interwoven trails. Soon he dropped over the far edge.

Goosebumps prickled Denny’s arms as a primal surge of adrenaline
raised her heartbeat.

Alice lowered her binoculars. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes
bright. “That’s the first one I’ve seen in the wild,” she said, her voice
reverent.

“Me too,” Denny said. “I’m glad it was with you.” Their eyes
locked for a long moment and Denny’s heart pounded harder.

Alice cleared her throat and looked away. “Yes, well . . .” Her
flat tone made Denny wonder if she’d said something wrong or if Alice was just
surprised. As surprised as she was. She let a few more minutes pass in silence
then broke it, suggesting they return to the plane for lunch.

Alice looked at her and nodded, perhaps
relieved.

On the walk back, Denny again found herself mesmerized as Alice
pointed out flowers and lichens she’d never noticed before.

“Look,” Alice said, bending to examine a small purple flower. “Do
you know what this is?”

Denny smiled. Was Alice teasing her? She’d looked it up not two
hours ago. “A forget-me-not. Alaska’s state flower.”

“It’s so delicate,” Alice said, taking a picture.

They returned to the plane and ate lunch in
the shade of the wing. For the rest of the afternoon they admired the scenery.
Sparrows flitted among the alder and willow shrubs beside them. Above the next
ridge, a hawk circled, searching for small prey.

Denny wondered if this momentary collision with Alice would change
anything. She liked Alice well enough. Her body was telling her that as much as
her mind. She hadn’t felt a raw sexual attraction to a woman since Vanessa, yet
this was different. Vanessa had barreled into her life, introduced by friends
with the expectation of something evolving. And it did, although P’town, for
all its glorification of all things homosexual, remained a small town, with a
small, incestuous community of women. For a time they’d been the hot couple.
The avant-garde artist and her muse with the sexy profession. Gradually, the
reality of an artist’s life, of Vanessa’s needs, and Denny’s arduous, unsexy
work schedule intruded. When a canceled flight brought Denny home early, she
found Vanessa and a gallery owner engaged in a very inartistic activity. That
was after the fight about Alaska, when Denny was preparing to give in and stay.

Alaska offered fresh horizons and no expectations. She wasn’t even
sure Alice was gay and she didn’t feel inclined to ask. She hadn’t decided
whether pursuing something was what she wanted, so it was best not to step onto
that trail of expectation with certain knowledge of Alice’s compatibility. Just
let it play out. See where this goes on its own. Maybe all it would become was
a friendship. Maybe even that was presumptuous.

ALICE REMAINED QUIET on the flight back, and Denny spoke only into
her radio to the other pilots. She circled while Walt landed, then touched down
and taxied close to the fuel pump. Later, she would move her plane back to the
side. Till next week. She cut the engine and waited for the noise to leave her
head. Alice took off her headphones.

“Did you have a good time?” Denny asked.

Alice looked down and smiled. “Yes.” Then she looked at Denny. “Oh
yes.”

Denny’s stomach dropped, like when the plane hits a down draft.
“I’m glad.” She forced herself to recover so she could help Alice. She ran
around the plane, opened the door, and held her hand out. Alice took it as she
stepped down but didn’t let go.

“Thank you,” she said. Then she hugged Denny. Their bodies pressed
together. Denny swooned, suddenly weightless. She put her arms around Alice and
waited for whatever might come next, not daring to hope. She inhaled but the
air felt thin, ineffective, like high altitude. She might as well be on the top
of that mountain.

Alice pulled away from her, but not far. Their eyes met and Alice
kissed her. Full on the lips, languorous and soft. This was no mere kiss of
thanks, but of desire. Denny’s knees weakened and she sagged against the plane,
holding onto Alice, suddenly aware of every part of their bodies that touched,
from knees, stomachs, and breasts to Alice’s hand at the back of her neck.

Alice ended the kiss, but still leaned close, breathing heavily.
Denny couldn’t think of anything to say and was sure she had no voice to say it
if she could. The sounds of the airfield drifted into her consciousness.
Another plane landed. She needed to get hers refueled and out of the way, but
she didn’t want to break this moment.

Josh must have wandered by. “Oh, sorry,” Denny heard. She looked
and saw him retreating. That did it. She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said, stepping back.

“No. It’s okay. I just need to get the plane out of his way.”

Alice looked at Denny with concern. “You sure I didn’t just get
you fired?”

Denny chuckled. “I’m sure. He’s cool. Besides, it’s my day off.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “It’ll take me a few minutes here, though.”

“I think I’ll start walking. Okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

Alice backed away and shoved her hands in her
pockets, transformed. No longer the retired schoolteacher, pretty but reserved,
now alarmingly sexy. The swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. Her
camera strap crossed between her breasts and pulled her shirt open. Denny
wanted to kiss her throat.

Alice turned and walked away, then looked back and smiled. “I’ll
see you.”

Denny nodded, incapable of anything else. She spied the fuel hose
on the ground. Right. Move now. She forced herself to shake Alice out of her
thoughts and focus on her plane.

DENNY SLUNG HER daypack on and broke into a run, hoping to catch
up to Alice, but she was probably already back to the lodge. It’d taken almost
an hour to gas up, clean out their trash, wipe the bug guts off the windshield,
then move the plane and tie it down. Denny was distracted, but not enough to
neglect her plane.

She was reliving the feel of the kiss when she spotted Alice near
the turnoff to the lodge. Her back was to Denny but she was looking uncertainly
up and down the road and toward the driveway to the lodge.

“Hey, little lady,” Denny called. “You lost?” Her smile faded when
she saw Alice’s expression. A mix of emotions flashed—confused, frightened,
maybe angry. Denny stopped a few feet from her. “You okay?”

Alice looked at her seriously. “I’m fine.”

It was as though earlier hadn’t happened.
“Alice—”

Alice met Denny’s gaze and smiled suddenly. “I was watching a
bird.”

“Oh.” Denny realized how little she knew her. Nervous, she checked
her watch. “I need to get going if I want dinner.”

Alice walked with her toward the lodge. “Are you working
tomorrow?”

Denny nodded. What now? She needed to be careful. Helen pretended
to ignore the employees who hooked up with each other, but frowned on
staff/guest relations.

“When do you leave?” Denny asked.

“The day after.”

People bustled about. Their day together was the most privacy
they’d get. “Well . . .”

“Thank you again for today,” Alice said, a little too formally for
Denny’s comfort. She half expected Alice to shake her hand.

“You’re welcome.” They stood at a crossroads. Alice started to
turn toward her cabin, Denny needed to get inside. “Alice . . .”

Alice stopped.

“Have a nice evening.”

Alice smiled and Denny watched her walk away.

THE NEXT DAY was clear and the winds calm, so
Denny had a long day of flying. She got back late in the afternoon. Tomorrow
Alice would leave. Early—the bus left at six. She stood on the porch, debating
what, if anything, she could do. Erin had invited her to play volleyball with
the crew, but she wanted to stay where she might run into Alice. She settled
into a rocking chair to think. Was it stupid to hold out hope of seeing her
again?

The van from the afternoon hike at Wonder Lake pulled in and Denny
smiled reflexively on seeing Alice get out. She looked happy and relaxed,
laughing with an older couple. As she turned toward the cabins, she caught
Denny’s gaze. She stopped and Denny’s heart raced. Alice waved the others on
and stepped onto the porch.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Denny said, feeling immediately feeble.

“I was afraid I might not see you again.”

Denny’s heart soared and she stood. “I was wondering if you’d like
to—”

“I’d love to.”

Denny paused, startled. “I haven’t finished
asking.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do it. But you can finish asking, if you
like.” Alice smiled.

“Okay. Would you like to go wing walking?”

Alice laughed and her eyes widened with mischief. “Yes.”

The way Alice was looking at her made a tingle shoot down Denny’s
legs. She cleared her throat. “Well, I was actually wondering if you’d like to
go for a walk with me. There’s a nature trail and, well, there aren’t usually
many—” She glanced around the porch as people streamed in and out of the lodge
on their way to and from their cabins. Why was this so difficult? She had
regressed into adolescence. “It’s quiet.”

Alice didn’t take her eyes off of her. “That
would be nice. I’m starving, though. After dinner?”

“Of course. Meet here?”

Alice nodded.

DENNY ATE DINNER in the kitchen with the crew, washed up, then
waited in the lobby. When Alice strolled by, she followed her outside then led
her to the path that ran through trees behind the volleyball net. Once they
were out of view of the lodge, and without saying anything, Alice took Denny’s
hand.

Hands are at once utilitarian and sensual, familiar and exotic.
Hands grip airplane yokes, fingers grasp blackboard chalk. The eyes may be
windows to the soul, but hands are doors to the heart. Denny could barely see
the path before her. It was as though all her psychic energy had drained down
to those entwined digits.

They stopped and Alice might have said something. Denny looked
down to see a trail marker. Her other hand held a guidebook she’d borrowed from
the lobby. She tried to open the book without letting go of Alice’s hand but
Alice took it from her.

The only sound came from the breeze through the trees and Denny’s
pounding heart. Alice put a hand on Denny’s cheek, leaned close, and whispered,
“I want you.” Then she kissed her.

Denny’s legs gave out and she sank to her knees with Alice pulling
her shirt up. The ground was damp and cold. Alice’s mouth was hot and wet.
Denny struggled to her feet and pulled her shirt back down while Alice giggled
and leaned against her. She grabbed Alice’s hand and pulled her back along the
path.