of us to try and start something that has no hope of lasting.”
I nodded even though my heart wasn’t in agreement. “I understand. I…uhm…”
“Rachel, would you give me your number? I’d love to get together for dinner or something, after my return.”
I nodded and grabbing a pen from my backpack, I took his palm and scribbled my number on it.
He looked at the number before saying, “Thanks? I hope that wasn’t permanent ink.”
I shook my head, “No. It will wash off.”
“I’ll be sure to write the number on a piece of paper before I shower or wash my hands.”
“You do that.” I looked at him and he stared back at me before he cleared his throat.
“I should probably head home, myself.”
“Yeah. Thanks for the ride home.” I took a few backward steps towards my apartment.
“Take care of yourself! No more trips to the wilderness, just to be dumped there, ok?” He tried to tease me, but his voice was soft, caring and even a bit worried. Without another word, Peter got on his bike and rode off. I watched him until he disappeared from view, and then I entered my apartment.
After showering and checking my messages, I sat down to watch some T.V. hoping to take my mind off of Peter. But it didn’t work one bit. Everything I changed the channel to reminded me of our time together.
The Stallone movie about the climbers was one. The motorcycle building show was on another channel. A military channel was showing how to properly prepare rations. Every channel I turned to reminded me in some way of Peter and the last few days.
I finally turned the T.V. off and went to bed where I dreamed of Peter making love to me again. In my dreams, he didn’t wait until he returned from Spain to call me. He called me immediately and we spent every night together.
I awoke in the morning, grouchy, frustrated and confused. My dream had been so real, every time the phone range, I found myself hoping it was Peter.
By mid-morning I had tortured myself enough and decided that today would be an excellent day to clean the house from top to bottom. I threw myself into the task, straightening drawers, and re-organizing closets – all in an attempt to put thoughts of Peter behind me.
I checked online for more job openings, sent out a few electronic resumes and read my emails.
When evening rolled around, I had managed to clean the entire apartment, but still fell asleep with thoughts of Peter uppermost in my mind.
Chapter 8
The next few days dragged by in slow mode. I busied myself with arranging to complete my internship and applying for additional jobs; even ones outside of the Santa Clara area.
Four days after returning from Yosemite, Michael called to speak with Karen. I was instantly furious with him, “What kind of person are you?” I yelled into the phone.
“Hey, don’t blame me. You were more interested in hanging out with that group of college kids than me so I arranged for you do just that.” I couldn’t believe he was trying to justify his poor behavior! He wasn’t even decent enough to apologize or show some guilt!
“You know what Michael, do us both a favor, and don’t call here again. You have Karen’s cell phone, use it from now on.” I hung up on him, not waiting for a reply. The only bright spot to his call – I wasn’t actually thinking about Peter. I was thinking of ways to harm Michael. The man just didn’t get it! Perhaps when Karen returned she would give him a speech – I wasn’t going to waste my breath!
I was still fuming when the phone rang again. Not looking at the caller ID I grabbed the phone and growled, “You just don’t get it, do you?”
There was a slight pause on the other end and then a voice replied, “I don’t know. Would you explain it to me please?”
I recognized Peter’s voice and started smiling, “Sorry.” I hurried to cover up my mistake, “I thought you were someone else. Hi.”
“Hi yourself. You sure everything’s
Learning to Kill: Stories