Seattle Skyline (Credit: Author)
Now Playing: “You Want Everything” – Snowmine
My first time on the west coast has been absolutely killer. According to Allison we are the luckiest bastards alive right now because instead of its usual seasonal gray and drizzly chill, Seattle is pleasantly warm with blue skies at the moment.
We got into town in the early evening yesterday. Allison’s dad, William, picked us up at the airport. Allison’s old room hadn’t been redone yet since she moved out not too long ago, and they had a guest room with a bed for Martin. Allison’s stepmom, Natalie, made us an excellent salmon risotto and we headed off to bed after a long day. Allison struggled to sleep a little last night, and her restlessness was a little annoying to deal with when it kept stealing the covers, but ultimately, it wasn’t bad.
Allison has been on edge since we landed. Actually, she has been anxious since before we took off from Logan. Despite the hour of our departure, Allison was wired for the whole flight and I forced myself to stay awake to talk to her so she wouldn’t freak out next to me. Martin was on the aisle and out like a light before we even pushed back. Allison held my hand for a good chunk of our time out.
Dad sprung for nonstop flights for us. I’ve never flown before. Mom, thanks to her touring days, was always more of a fan of road trips or taking the train. Honestly, a two-day train trip across the country with my best friends would have been awesome, but Amtrak would have taken half a week. Flying is the only option for us. When we got dinner at the airport before our flight left, my friends were subject to my rantings on how because Amtrak is so slow, it kills the drive to have a good railway system in this country. Martin quickly dismissed me because, in his words, “planes are cooler, bro.”
Today started out with an excursion to the Museum of Flight to sate Martin’s interests before Allison decided to take us on some touristy things. I have to admit that the Space Needle was a good idea. It’s very touristy, but the view from up here is incredible, especially on such a clear day. Allison has gone a few times, usually when friends or family visited from out of town, but she said she’s glad the best weather was for the day she got to show me. She’s been pointing out the different areas of town. The view of Elliott Bay is incredibly beautiful, and the weather is clear enough to get a great view of Mount Rainier today. The greenery on the edges of town or on Bainbridge Island to the due west is spectacular. I’m not used to trees remaining green this late in the year. But I guess they don’t call it “The Evergreen State” for nothing.
I didn’t expect to love the west coast as much as I have. Granted, we’ve only been here for less than a day, but I feel like I know this place well because of all the stories Allison has told me. If we had the time, we’d go out hiking at the national park. Martin suggested we take part of today to do it, but Allison explained it’s an all-day event, and we didn’t pack for it. The big difference between east coast and west, everything is far more spread apart out here. I’ve been to the Adirondacks and the Green Mountains up in Vermont, but those are small fry compared to the mountains out here. Miles upon miles of dense forests you could get lost in, and according to Allison, the air is so crisp and clear that you feel a type of freedom you can’t get anywhere else. Throwing off the weight of civilization in the purest way.
I squeeze her hand as we stare out the window. We’re on nobody’s schedule but our own today. I know part of the reason is that Allison doesn’t want to talk to her father. Well, she’s scared to talk to her father. I ask if she’s okay.
She doesn’t look back at me but keeps staring out at Capitol Hill. Her chest and shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath and an agonized sigh. “No.”
I drop her hand to put my arm around her and pull her closer to me, leaning my head against hers. “I’m here.”
“Thanks, Case,” she whispers.
It’s difficult to have her feeling so down. Since we got together a couple weeks ago, I’ve been riding the best high I could hope for under these circumstances. Yes, Martin has noted his disapproval at how we got together. Yes, the ever-encroaching deadline for finding my mother has sparked a few more sleepless nights. Yes, I have tried to be attentive to her anxiety at coming back to Seattle so soon after leaving and facing her father with whom I know she has a somewhat strained relationship at the moment. But damnit if I haven’t enjoyed my time being Allison’s boyfriend and sharing all of my favorite places near home that I came to enjoy after she left. We’ve been talking about doing all the things we’ve wanted to do for a long time but never got the chance to do. And now, I get to see all of her places that she came to love while she was away from home.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
She melts a little and pulls me tighter due to my little term of endearment. Martin returns to us and stands next to me on the other side, but stays quiet, seeing there’s a moment.
“Part of me hates him.” There’s a somber recognition in her voice, a smoky haze tinged with the bitter taste of cinders and the burning smell of sulfur. She’s holding the lit match but doesn’t want to drop it onto the bridge soaked with gasoline which circumstance has already set ablaze. If she doesn’t contribute, maybe she can put it out. I know the feeling all too well.
“What for?”
“I feel like he ditched our life back home and decided to just pull a new one out of thin air. Now I have to just accept it.”
I could tell last night that she was barely holding it together last night at dinner. Her stepmother’s cooking is excellent, and Natalie herself seems really nice. She was a college friend of Allison’s dad, William. When he moved out here for work, they reconnected. William and Andrea had a somewhat bitter parting, and I think he took the job out this far to find a good excuse to leave. Natalie was just serendipity.
“You don’t have to accept it,” Martin chimes in with a reserved voice, staring out at Bainbridge Island across the water like both of us, “But ask yourself if the relationship with your father is a cost you’re willing to pay.”
“Yeah, and for what it’s worth, my dear, you’re lucky. You get the chance to fight with your dad. You guys are talking, take it from someone who doesn’t have that option. You’re not wrong for feeling how you feel, but it’s worth having it out. Bottling it up the whole time we’re here won’t make you feel any better, it’ll just leave you with more regrets when we’re on the plane back home.”
Allison leans up to kiss me on the cheek. “Thanks, sweetpea.”
“I’m gonna nix that one, I do not care for it,” I strike that potential nickname from the list. She gives me a slight frown.
“Fair.”
“Good, because if you didn’t, I was gonna barf,” Martin states. “We ready to head back down? Meet your friend for dinner?”
“Sure,” Allison affirms. I nod as well. We make our way back to the elevator in the middle of the observation deck. I know Allison is still thinking about the advice Martin and I offered. Her fingers are interlaced with mine, as if she doesn’t want to lose me in her stupor. I happily lead her back through the gift shop and out onto the streets of Seattle.
It’s about a twenty-minute walk to Pike Place Market, where the brewery is where we’re going for dinner. Martin is looking forward to trying a few of their beers based on what he’s read online and what Allison has told us. Earlier, while Allison was in the bathroom before we went up, he expressed a worry to me that he’s third wheeling and that it’s a little awkward for him to be here with us, especially since this is such a personal trip for both Allison and me. I told him in no uncertain terms that I’m glad he’s with us because I missed the three of us adventuring and that he deserves to be on a trip for fun just as much for our business.
Aside from the fact that this place supposedly has the best fish and chips ever, the other reason we’re going to dinner here is that Allison’s college friend wanted to meet up while she’s back in town. They haven’t seen each other in a while, and I wanted Allison to do something fun socially while we were out here. Thus, we’re meeting Maggie Whitaker.
“You’re right,” Allison finally speaks, a few blocks away from Pike Place. “I need to talk to my dad tonight. Have it out. I’m sorry that my bullshit has taken over your trip to find answers about your mom.”
I pull our hands up to my lips and kiss hers. “Not a word of it. You’re my girlfriend, that means your fights are my fights too, honey.”
“Best boyfriend ever,” she coos and presses herself closer to me.
“I’m just glad I can be here to help.”
Now Playing: “Crutch” – Band of Horses
I’ve seen pictures of Pike Place Market, but the real thing is honestly impressive. The iconic red sign reading “Public Market” with the clock looks exactly the way it does in every photograph. Somehow a historic place and modern at the same time. We cross the street to the market itself. Even in the fall, the place is hopping. I love old markets like this from the standpoint that they are history, and as we walk through, I love the fact that there is a place for so many local shops to do business with a lot of foot traffic. It reminds me of some of the ideas back home on Market Street.
Allison deftly guides us through the masses and passages to the lower level and the brewery, a place called Old Stove. Her friend, with long purple hair, stands up and waves at us as soon as we step into the place. The place has an industrial kind of charm, but with a level of warmth to it. There are lots of soft lights overhead with warm-toned bulbs, and the tables are all wood. It’s inviting and somewhat cozy while still retaining the atmosphere of a brewery. We quickly make our way over to her at one of the tables next to the windows, with a lovely view out over the water. The sun is starting to warm its tone as it gets lower in the sky.
Maggie Whitaker is slightly taller than my girlfriend, and posses a sharp eye and an easy smile. She laughs with the same carefree spirit that Allison naturally attracts with the beautifully chaotic and impulsive way she lives her life. Allison introduces us as her two best friends from back home, and Maggie immediately laughs at how she’s heard so much about us.
“I’m so pleased to finally meet the famous Casey Adams, I’ve heard so much about you, you’ll have to fill me in on what Allison exaggerated,” comes Maggie’s playfulness disguising phishing for information. She’s clever, also a prerequisite for being friends with Allison.
“Maybe not exaggeration, but you got information about high school Casey at the latest. And he was a bit of a dweeb,” I play it off, shaking her hand.
“Well, couldn’t be that much of a dweeb, you bagged her after all,” Maggie teases back. I share a soft, adorable look with Allison, which Maggie geeks out about even more.
We all sit down and make idle chitchat for a little while. Allison compliments Maggie’s hair, Maggie talks about how it was a spur of the moment decision last week but loves the way it turned out and that she wants to redye it before her winter social. They gossip about their friend group from college; who is up to what back at home, how the remainder are still doing in school, and so on. At some point the waiter comes to take our orders, and by the time Allison is telling the story of her road trip across the country to move home, the fish and chips are in front of me.
Goddamn if the rumors were true. These truly are the best fish and chips I’ve ever had. The breading is perfect, cooked to practically melt in my mouth, and the fries have the optimal crunch-to-softness ratio. Martin steals a few bites and concurs with my findings. Maggie asks us what we got up to today.
“We went to the museum of flight this morning, because Martin’s a huge plane enthusiast,” Allison answers.
“Ahh, a plane man,” Maggie comments, ready to be playful. The two of them have been sharing looks since we sat down, and more than a few snarky lighthearted comments.
Martin launches into his speech about how airplanes are marvels of engineering. He uses a lot of poetic language, but I like his sentiment. In Martin’s eyes, flight is an incredible human achievement. These machines are marvels of engineering due to their complexity and capability. More than that, they represent the apex of human ingenuity; a stark defiance of nature’s rules simply because humans have a strong distaste being told no, by anyone. And how two brothers from Ohio stood on the shoulders of generations of scientists and engineers and dreamers and took the next step towards the heavens on a beach in North Carolina over a century ago. Since then, humanity has made valiant efforts to better understand how to circumvent the restrictions of this small blue planet. With metal, engineering, and willpower, we broke the sound barrier and learned what we needed to slip gravity and set foot on the moon. To her credit, Maggie seems genuinely interested in his take and offers a strong agreement when he concludes his statement.
“Then we hit the Space Needle. The city’s so cool to look at from high up, I know it’s such a touristy thing to do, but the view was breathtaking.” Martin continues, throwing in an eyebrow bump at the end. Maggie responds by gently touching his arm with a little giggle.
I look over at Allison and nod towards the two of them and give her a raised eyebrow. She catches that I’m asking if she intended to set them up but shakes her head. Then, she smiles a little and holds up her thumb and index finger close together as if to say, Yeah, a little bit.
Conversation wears on about inane things. I like Maggie, she’s fun. But I also see how she may be someone Allison feels she’s outgrown. For all of Maggie’s fun, she doesn’t strike me as someone you could call to go to the mattresses for you, or help solve a crisis at three in the morning.
“Why’d you guys come to Seattle? Seems a little random and last minute,” Maggie asks after finishing her drink.
“So, I’ve been…” I look over at Allison, who shakes her head in the negative. I don’t think she wants Maggie to know our real reason for being here, so I fake a cough for a moment to buy myself time to craft a story, “…wanting to come out to Seattle for a while. We got a deal on flights, and we just decided to do it. It’s been a while since Martin and I have seen her dad, and it made it easier that he agreed to put us up. Plus, I haven’t taken a real vacation in ages, so we decided to pull the trigger.”
“Earlier, Casey was kicking around some ideas for songs. We just shot the breeze all day long, workshopping ideas, just with a change of scenery. You could say Allison and I were his Puget Sounding Board.” Martin gives a big, dopey, stupid grin and a double thumbs up at the delivery of the lame pun, causing Maggie to double over with a loud belly laugh.
My statement was true. I haven’t been on a vacation since before my mom left, so it’s been a hot minute. Same goes for Allison and Martin. In some ways, this has been the trio trip we needed to really get back into our old rhythm. Or at least get as close as we’re going to get after Allison went away for five years and as soon as she’s back, we start dating. But I’m really glad Martin picked up on the misdirection and found a way to keep the attention focused on himself and move the topic along. He’s always the fool with strangers, and I’ve admired that he can play it so deftly.
“Nice one!” Maggie offers a fistbump, unable to stop herself from smiling at the pun once she calms down the laughter.
We make more banal conversation. I tell some stories about the band, including Asbury Park, which needles my guilty conscience a little bit. Martin shares the anecdote about our first Halloween show at school with our old band. We were bombing hard midway through the first set, and some clever thinking on the part of our keyboardist at the time got the crowd singing “Hey Jude” by the Beatles to buy me enough time to reorganize the setlist and we came out swinging with Santana’s “Black Magic Woman” which won the crowd back. Dessert comes and goes with the stories we tell, and the sun is almost completely set, painting the scattered streaks of clouds in orange and pink by the time the checks are paid.
“Some of us are going dancing tonight, you guys should come out.” Maggie looks at Allison pointedly, as though she knows our mutual friend’s answer.
“I don’t think I can handle being out tonight.”
Martin looks at us pleadingly, as if he’s our child asking for permission.
“I don’t know why you’re asking us, dude, you’re a grown adult. Supposedly,” I needle him with a playfully obnoxious smirk. He socks me in the arm. “Ow, you dick!”
He shrugs. “Deserved it. I’m going out dancing, fuck y’all. Get into a relationship and you suddenly turn into grandparents. Gotta be home by nine and in bed by nine-thirty.”
I shake my head in disapproval at his low-level humor. I know he can do far better and tell him as such with a glance and a raised eyebrow. He rolls his eyes in response.
Maggie turns to Allison and puts on her best pleading face. “Are you sure Allison? C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“I should spend some time with my dad while I’m here. Next time, I promise.” I know Allison is half lying, but I don’t say anything. “And if you ever come out to Massachusetts, I’ll take you out. A night my man is playing one of the bars.”
I give a self-satisfied grin. Not only is she calling me her man, but she’s bragging about my musical ability. Fills me with joy, and I know it does her too because she squeezes my arm.
“I’ll hold you too that,” Maggie reluctantly accepts that her time with Allison is being cut short, but gives her friend a hug, then gives me one too. “It was great to finally meet you, Casey. You guys are cute together.”
“Thanks,” I do the shy boy thing where I look away, blush, and rub the back of my neck. Eugh, that’s disgusting, but I did it reflexively, so I cannot be held responsible for my actions. Or at least that’s the story I’ll go with.
“Allison, it was great seeing you again. Keep in touch, miss you.” Maggie hugs Allison tightly again, as if they’ll never see each other again.
“Miss you tons, Mags. Maybe we can meet up sooner, once you graduate.”
“I’d love that. Have a great night you guys,” Maggie bids us, turning to Martin, “C’mon New England boy, let’s see what you got on the dance floor.”
“Take care of yourself, dumbass,” I remind him. We have another day in town before we leave, so I’m not super worried about him being out late or anything. But if I can cut him down a little, I’m going to take the shot because that’s just what you do with your bro.
“I’ll make my way back home, kids. Or I won’t. Either way, don’t wait up.” Martin gives a playful wave as he and his lady friend for the evening head off to go dancing. I can’t help but shake my head and grin.
“I’m glad I got to see Maggie,” Allison sighs, dropping her act. I knew she’d been putting it on since we got her. It’s one of the reasons I was glad to have Martin with us. He’s like the magician’s hot assistant; distracting enough to keep everyone from noticing the flaws in your illusion. He knows his role and plays it well.
“Seems like they hit it off,” I comment in an attempt to distract her.
“Yeah, I figured they’d be a good match for a night. Or, the whole weekend, depending on her mood.” I wonder if Allison planned this, so Martin would be out of the picture for the conversation with her dad. She likes to keep him out of the big events sometimes, I think so that she has someone lighthearted to help distract her on things.
The silence after the frivolous conversation runs its course and we’re left with the storm cloud of anxiety and weighty emotions over our heads. I feel for Allison. I know what it’s like to be so pissed at your parent for something they feel they had to do but that fucked up your life regardless. I wish I could take her pain away, but I’m suffering from the same wound.
She finishes her drink, and gestures for us to leave. I hug her tightly, knowing that what’s coming up will be a little bit of a glimpse into my own future. And I’m hoping William will be graceful with a confrontation that’s been a long time coming. Selfishly, I hope William will still be willing to give me what he knows about my mom, if anything, once the dust settles.
The hardest mountain to climb is the one right before your ultimate destination.
Ark of the Lost Angels 
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