When I’m done filling mypacksack, I sit on the bed and watch her. She packs everything—herhair products, her yoga books and scented candles. I laugh tomyself at the thought of bringing perfumed candles to the salmonhatchery. I’d never hear the end of it.
When we’re both ready to go, Icarry her heavy suitcase to her little red Datsun and put it in thebackseat. I can’t help but feel the same way I always feel when shegoes to the city - sad and a little sick. I’m no stranger to lowself-esteem. It’s the result of those years of combat with myfamily over my sexuality. I’ve always felt half as good as otherpeople, and it’s hard to believe that someone half-worthy deservessomeone as perfect as Annie .
On the ferry, I hold her handtight and she promises to call me when she’s not working, thenreassures me that she’s only going to Vancouver to work and not toparty. I nod and smile and feel my heart sink to my stomach as theboat docks in Nanaimo.
The first day at the hatchery isarduous as hell after time off. The weather is shit—lots of rainand overcast, making my duties less tolerable than usual. I gradeand record the fish, do water quality checks, operate the forklift,clean floor drains, and feed the fish. As crappy as the weather is,I have to remind myself to be grateful that it’s not winter. That’swhen it’s so cold and wet the nets freeze to your hands.
With Monday done and gone, it’sevening and I’m in the ferry line up waiting to go home when myphone rings. It’s her.
“Hi, baby. Whatcha doin’?” sheasks. It’s dead quiet in the background. “I’ve been thinking aboutyou.”
“You have good taste,” I say,smiling. “How’s the gig?” Pushing back my tiredness from work, Itry to sound energetic and not dull.
“Same shit, different venue. Myagent decided to get drunk and hit on me last night after the show.It didn’t go well for him. I told him that even if I were single,he’s not the right guy for me.”
What the hell does that mean?Not the right guy? I mean, I knew about her relationships with guysin the past, but that was a long time ago. For the past two years,she’s represented herself as lesbian, not bi. I fight the urge toask her for clarification.
“Wow,” I say. “Pretty gross thatyour agent was hitting on you. I’m glad that you made it clear thathis behavior was unacceptable.” I sound like a robot. I try toloosen up. “When are you finished the show?”
“Thursday night. I’ll be on theferry first thing Friday morning. I can’t wait to see you.” Hervoice is soft and sincere. I wonder if she senses what I am notsaying.
I want to tell her that when Iget paid tomorrow, I’m planning to make the second to last paymenton her engagement ring, but I bite my tongue. I’ve managed to keepit a secret for this long—I can wait another month.
On the ferry, I shake off thefunk that Annie’s statement about her boss had put me in. I tend tomake mountains of molehills. It’s often the cause of argumentsbetween us. I’m sure her offhanded comment was nothing morethat.
As the road winds towards home,my mind drifts back to the last time we made love. Her beautifulface, her body writhing in ecstasy. I can’t imagine there being aman or woman who wouldn’t trade places with me at the drop of ahat. Again, I shake off the thought.
* * *
The weather clears over the nextfew days. My co-worker, Tim, has been ill, so I had to cover hiswork as well as my own, which makes catching the last ferry achallenge every night.
Finally, it’s Friday morning. Onthe ferry, I sit in the truck with my laptop and make my secondlast payment on Annie’s ring. I hope she loves it. It’ssimple—white gold with two small diamonds on either side of a ruby.Personally, I’ve never been into jewelry. In my West Van elementaryschool, I remember the diamond earrings and gold bracelets of someof the girls. My mother would never let me touch pricy jewels, letalone wear them, which suited me just fine. As a result, I was abit lost in the jewelry store. Thankfully a girl that worked therehelped me pick out Annie’s ring.
* * *
My boss looks at me when I walkthrough the door, and points to the clock on the wall. Shit.Traffic was terrible, I’m already behind, and with Tim’s workloadI’ll be running to catch up all day so I can make the ferry home.Fridays are easier—the last ferry is at 11PM—but there’s no way inhell I want to get home at midnight. Not when Annie is cominghome.
I’ll have to forgo my lunchbreak and work right through. I decide to give Annie a quick callto make sure she’s on her way to Horseshoe Bay.
“Hello?”
It’s not Annie. I frown andpress the phone tighter against my ear.
“Hi, this is Jade. I'm callingto speak to Annie, please.”
“Oh, hey, Jade. This is Sandy.She’s staying with me while she’s over here working.”
“Yes, I know. Why doesn’t shehave her phone?”
“She forgot it. She was in ahell of a hurry when she went out.”
Noises in the background getlouder—laughter, people talking over each other and music.
“Where did she go?”
“One sec, I’ll ask.” Sandy yellsin the background, asking if anyone knows where Annie went. I heara female’s voice say, “She took off with Raj a couple of hours ago,didn’t she?”
I thought I heard someone goshh. Then Sandy’s back on the phone. “Sorry, hun, nobody seems toknow for sure. But I’ll let her know that you called.”
* * *
Nothing at work is going well.The pumps aren’t working, and I’ve got to stop what I’m doing whilethe slow-as-hell technician putters around, trying to solve theissue. I keep checking the time, which is whipping by at Machspeed. I try to offer my help to the tech, but he quickly sensesthat I’m trying to rush
