Sigh, Alaska: a short story novel

Wendy Williamson

Wendy could hear panting and moaning in the bathroom next to her room. Richard had told her that sometimes the guests liked to use that particular hallway bathroom for such occurrences because it offered the best illusion of privacy.

"First thing to remember about hostel living is there is no privacy." Richard had told her during her interview.

"Luckily, there's nothing that I'm trying to hide." Wendy replied.

What she hadn't counted on was being the one privy to such indiscretions. Sighing as the feverish exercise on the other side of the wall became more audible; Wendy grabbed her headphones and turned on a mix of nocturnes. She had a paper to write.

Nose to her computer she started to write a mock business plan for a line of food trucks. It was an interesting class, she thought as she prepared the outline. They would start with the smallest venture, food trucks, then move through distribution and other larger ventures that would make her small venture possible. It was a two-year master's program and although she was only in her first semester, Wendy knew it was the right choice for her.

Once she graduated, Wendy hoped to open a small boutique chain of hotels. It would take a lot of capital, but she already had her eyes set on a property in Homer, Alaska. Homer seemed to be the quintessential Alaskan town. Surrounded on all sides by snowcapped mountains and the water that lapped quietly along the long stretch of road called "The Spit" that housed all of Homer's finest tourist attractions. Across the inlet was Seldovia, wrapped by a crown of glacier-covered peaks. It was idyllic, the perfect place to relax, find some romance, and go fishing or sailing. All it needed was an upscale hotel that offered all the creature comforts of home.

The time seemed to fly by as she studied her notes, and added to her business plan. Wendy finally felt the need to take a break, and thought the sexcapades in the bathroom should surely be over, wow, two hours later. Stepping away from her desk, she wandered over to the fridge, reminding herself how lucky she was to have her own private kitchen in her room. There was always a problem with food going missing at the hostel, but at least she knew her's would be safe. Wendy was still a college student; she couldn't afford for others to be taking her food. Taking a swig out of her water bottle pulled from the fridge, she realized she hadn't heard from her boyfriend Tom in a while.

"Where is my phone?" Wendy muttered, and started to search. She could never put it in the same place twice, and always seemed to forget where the last place was. It wasn't in her jeans, or her coat. It wasn't in her purse or her school bag. Becoming anxious and wondering if she left it on top of her car (again!), she swung her head around and found it sitting on top of the mirror next to her door.

"Of course. That is a completely logical place to put my phone. Good job, Wendy." She continued to mutter to herself. Looking at the screen, she realized why she hadn't heard from Tom. Her phone was on silent. He had called three times, and left four texts. "Oh he's going to be pissed." Wendy quickly dialed his number, and brought her short thumbnail to her mouth.

"Oh good, you are still alive." Tom expelled into the phone. Wendy sighed.

"Sorry, I got wrapped up in my school paper." She replied. "It's late, have you had dinner yet?"

"Yeah, well, I ordered pizza. There's still some left if you want to come over." said Tom. "I was going to wait for you, but I got a helluva workout at the gym to day. Couldn't wait."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be over in a few. Save some for me?" asked Wendy, her voice sounding breathy. Tom after the gym was always rearing to go, and damn, Wendy suddenly had an ache that desperately needed filling.

"You know," Tom started, his voice deeper and softer than usual, "If you had moved in with me, I wouldn't have to chase you down for dinner. You'd already be here."

Wendy instantly rolled her eyes. "Please, can we not start this right now? I'll be over in fifteen minutes. See you soon. Love you." She hung up before he could reply and flopped back on her bed.

Could they ever have a mildly flirty conversation without him bringing up the fact that she chose to work and live in a hostel for the year instead of living with him? It wasn't that Wendy didn't love him, because she did. She just wanted the opportunity to be an independent woman in her twenties. Tom did everything for her. Wendy just didn't see a reason to move in with him before he proposed. Wasn't it enough that she left her home in Connecticut to follow him and his job with one of the oil companies to Alaska?

She remembered how they first met. She'd just graduated from University of Connecticut. Wendy and her college roommate Laura Mason decided to get an apartment together, in a swanky neighborhood downtown. Her brother showed up to help them unload their new furniture, well, new to them. Purchased from variety of flea markets, Goodwill's, and an old armoire from her grandmother's house, they had many heavy things that the two girls could not take up the stairs to their third story apartment.

Wendy watched as his muscles rippled under his tee-shirt, and wondered what he would taste like. Tom Mason caught her watching him, and winked. That night after ordering Chinese, Laura went to bed early and Tom and Wendy stayed up all night talking, laughing, and watching the sunrise. He told her about his deep-seated need for his father's approval, which he feared he'd never get, and how he wanted to get as far away from Connecticut as possible. She told him about her dreams to own a chain of hotels, and her mother's constant nagging that she was never good enough which made her even more determined to reach her goals. They were nearly inseparable after that.

Almost a year later, Tom was offered a job in Alaska with one of the oil companies. Wendy thought he'd ask her to marry him then, and she couldn't be more excited. When he didn't ask her to marry him, her heart felt a little bruised. He just wanted her to move in with him. What the hell was she going to do with that? She wanted to know. Her mom raised her believing if a man wanted to live with you, but not marry you, he didn't respect you. At least he wanted to stay with her. Making the decision to move to Alaska with Tom had been easy, Wendy thought now. It was everything else that seemed hard for them both to move through.

Maybe she should just move in with him already, even without the proposal. She spent most of her free time over at his place anyway. She didn't have time to make a whole lot of friends outside of class or the hostel, and when winter Collective ended next month, she'd be surrounded by strangers all summer. Wendy was most excited about meeting the travelers and hearing their stories. Partly for her own research; what features did they like most about hotels or hostels. What made any trip memorable? Also, she thought, because travel has a way of connecting people from different worlds. If she moved in with Tom now, or even soon, she would miss the opportunity to have these conversations, these experience that Wendy had convinced herself would inform the decisions she made about her hotel.

Plus, she wasn't even sure if Tom would be willing to move to Homer once she graduated. While he wasn't an office worker, and could live anywhere in the state, he hadn't seemed very keen on exploring Alaska. That confused her. Who moves to Alaska, this glorious enchanting land, and not want to see as much of it as possible? Wendy was already bored with living in Anchorage. It was like any other small city, except covered in snow and sometimes she went days at a time without seeing the sun. She wanted to live in the wilds, or at least surrounded by big spending tourists.

As she pulled up to his apartment on the south side of town, Wendy took a steadying breath. She barely remembered getting in the car and making her way down the slushy roads to his place. She was torn between wanting to rip his clothes off and running away from him. Even as she opened the car door, she knew what she would do. If he asked her one more time to move in, she'd cave.