“The party kind of loses its luster without him here,” Orianna said, nodding towards the mini-van.
“No, it doesn’t,” Thomas replied. “Listen to them in there.”
The noise rolling out from the conference room was as loud as ever, and the heat and convoluted smells snaked their way through the entire building. After all the Secret Santa gifts had been handed out and opened, the Party usually tapered off, but this year it seemed only a few people had left.
“Yeah, I guess,” Orianna said.
“What do you think of the Party?” Thomas asked, realizing he hadn’t gotten her thoughts on it. “It’s your first one, after all. And what’d you get from your Secret Santa?”
“Well, I think… I think I’d like to take a walk. Care to join me?”
“What, now? A walk where?”
“Just around here. Down by the docks, maybe.”
“Uh, sure. Let me get my jacket.”
“Yeah, I need mine too.”
The few seconds it took to get his jacket from his car gave Thomas a chance to process things. He was going to take a moonlit walk with a moon-touched young woman. Both of them had alcohol pulsing through them, and both of them were jubilant from the good fellowship they’d had all night. (Well, Thomas was, and while he was no mind-reader, he was pretty sure Orianna was, too.) Anything could happen. Sweat suddenly appeared on his forehead, and he wiped it away quickly.
Orianna was standing on the sidewalk, a few yards from the Chamber’s front steps, waiting for him. Even in her North Face coat, she looked thin and fragile, vulnerable to the cold night air. Thomas wondered if it would be too bold to hug her to him to keep her warm.
Before they took five steps, however, Vernon’s head poked out of the mini-van like a turtle alarmingly looking out of its shell.
“Where ya’ll goin’?” he barked.
“Vernon!” Yolanda chastised. “Quit bothering them and sit there and be quiet! They’re goin’ where they want to go!”
“Damn you, woman! Forty-plus years I’ve dealt with your nagging…”
“Forty-plus, huh? Do you know the exact number?”
“I know it’s been forty-plus years too many! Hey, now… where’d they go?”
Thomas and Orianna were indeed out of sight. They’d jogged away, turned a corner, and were now heading towards the docks.
Chapter Nine
The charter boats rocked back and forth in their moorings, sleek and powerful even though they were unmanned and silent. Their bows stabbed out towards the ocean, seemingly eager to slice through the water. Most had black tinted windows, making them look even more arrogant. Thomas, as always, was intrigued by their names: Feckless Reckless, Sandra Divine, The Fury, Wahooligan. He’d gone offshore fishing on Feckless Reckless years ago, when he was eight or nine, and gotten mildly seasick; he never threw up, but the rolling swell made him queasy the entire trip. He remembered the captain handling his boat with impossible ease and the young tanned mate whipping barefoot around the deck like a pirate of yesteryear. They’d caught a few dolphin, had a chance at a sailfish, and then, as the afternoon waned, they’d powered home through the great blue Atlantic.
Thomas thought of Reggie as well. His friend had been a hot-shot mate when he was young, but he’d had a falling out with his father and hadn’t mated since. Reggie sometimes spoke of those days with a wistfulness that almost embarrassed Thomas, since Reggie was a man who usually powered through the present, and let the past and future go fuck themselves.
Beside him, Orianna was humming a tune. She hadn’t said much since they’d left the Party.
“What’re you humming?” Thomas asked, more as a way to break the silence than out of genuine interest.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just a formless tune.”
The dock creaked beneath their feet. Despite countless hosing-downs, it was still stained dark where the day’s catch of the respective boats had been tossed onto the planks day after day. Thomas could almost see the dolphin lined up on the dock, their blazing colors shining in the sun.
They passed by the headboat, the Salty Queen, and Thomas stopped to peer up at the ninety-five footer. Orianna sat down on the dock box for The Fury and looked at nothing in particular. After a few moments, feeling himself willed to her side, Thomas walked over and sat down beside her — not too closely, though.
“Nice to walk out here at night, when no one’s around,” he stated obviously.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Ever been fishing offshore?”
“No, I haven’t. But I’m sure it’s fun.”
“I’ve only been once. Got a little seasick. It was fun, though. Kind of scary to be out in the middle of the Gulf Stream with no land in sight.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Dark water sloshed against the pilings. Thomas drummed his fingers on his knees.
“What’s up? You were fine back at the Party, but now it looks like you’re brooding.”
“I know, I know,” Orianna said sadly. Thomas, hearing this tone, felt like he should comfort her somehow. A hand on the shoulder, even a hug, followed by some gentle words. Instead, he leaned forward and looked into her pale face.
“You’re killing me here,” Thomas said. “You’re not going to go drive off a bridge or something, are you?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just… dammit, I felt so good about my decision, but now I feel like I’m letting everyone down…”
“What decision?” Thomas asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
“I’m going to put in my two week notice tomorrow.”
“I see.” So that was what she’d discussed with Cynthia. Thomas sat silent, looking up at the night sky. Orianna finally stirred and touched his arm. Two minutes earlier, a touch from her would have filled him with confidence and contentment. Now it felt like a drowning girl trying to pull him down into the abyss with her.
“I wanted to walk out here with you and tell you face to face because… well, I feel like we could have been friends. There was some sort of connection there, don’t you think?”
“There’s nothing preventing us from being friends — or whatever — after you quit.”
“Yes, but… you know how things are. I’ll be doing this, you’ll be doing that.”
“That’s not very good reasoning.”
“Hmmm… maybe so… but… shit, I feel so fucking stifled!”
Snarling, she surged off the dock box, threw up her trembling hands, and glared at the sky. Thomas jerked back reflexively, feeling the cold sting of disillusionment within him. He would not have thought it possible that such a rage-filled, malicious grimace could appear on her face. He thought back to Roy and their parking-lot conversation so many years ago; Roy had had the exact same look when he turned off his car radio.
Orianna’s grimace, like Roy’s, had only lasted a second, and now she sagged, looking ancient and tired.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being over-dramatic, and I don’t think I’m a very over-dramatic person.”
“No, you’re usually pretty reserved.”
“But… after tonight, this party… it’s nice and all… but it’s so… small. I mean, there are wars going on all the time, there are churches in Europe that are hundreds of years old, there are mountains and deserts and glaciers and — all of it.” A sweep of the hand covered the entire Earth. “I want to see some of it, at least, and not be stuck here until I’m old and gray.”