Robin Alexander - Murky Waters

Tristan threw her clothes and purse into the passenger seat and jumped into the truck, wincing as the cool leather came in contact with the thin boxer shorts she was wearing. Pulling out of the driveway, she never looked back at the apartment; the need to distance herself from the woman she had just spent the night with was too urgent.

Claire lay in bed, staring into the darkness as the dawning day turned her room to gray. She was hurt and bewildered by Tristan’s behavior. The night before, Tristan had been so warm and 71

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affectionate, but this morning, cold and distant. Had she pushed her too far again by insisting that she stay? Tristan’s hot and cold behavior confused her and filled her with self-doubt. Nevertheless, she was determined to find out why Tristan behaved this way. It would just take a little time, and she was willing to wait. The prize was too precious to give up on.

Claire’s heart sank when she was informed that Tristan had already gone to the hospital to check on the injured deckhand and his family. Her mood had turned sour when Tristan had not returned at the end of the day. She decided on the ride home that she would give Tristan a little time alone, but she would make it a point to try to talk to her when she felt the time was right.

Tristan only came into the office for a couple of hours for the rest of the week. She spent most of her time with her staff, catching up on what had taken place during her absence. Her contact with Claire was minimal, and when they did speak, it only pertained to business. By Friday, Claire was beginning to wonder if Tristan were truly busy or simply ignoring her. She had choked back the hurt while at the office but spent her evenings sulking, trying to figure out the mysterious behavior of the woman who was worming her way into her heart.

Saturday morning was spent doing laundry and household chores. The phone call she got from Ellen was a welcome relief.

“Let’s do lunch,” Ellen chirped into the phone. Claire happily accepted, looking for a break from her thoughts.

Claire met Ellen at a popular bar and grill in midtown Baton Rouge. Ellen had already gotten a table in the smoking section and was happily sipping a margarita when Claire arrived. “I started without you. I saw a waiter go by with one of these, and it just called to me.” She giggled as she sipped the frozen drink.

“It’s calling to me, too,” Claire said as she flagged down their waiter and ordered one of her own.

“Claire, as your friend, I feel the need to say this ... you look like shit. What’s wrong with you, honey?”

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Claire tucked a piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “I’ve just been out of sorts lately. I think it’s getting used to a new job and new surroundings.”

“Save that for the folks at the office and tell me what is really bothering you.” Ellen patted her hand and lit up a cigarette, waiting expectantly for Claire to answer.

Claire thanked the waiter as he set the frozen concoction in front of her. “It’s Tristan,” she answered as she sipped the frozen drink.

“Are you two fighting again?”

“I wish we were, then I’d know what was going on in that head of hers. We spend time together, and everything is great, then she shuts me out, and I don’t see her for a while. I don’t know what to make of it.”

Ellen grinned mischievously. “I’ve been playing Scooby-Doo.

I’ve been asking around, just trying to gather tidbits of info on her.” She grinned again when Claire’s eyebrows shot up.

“You look more like Velma,” Claire teased, causing Ellen to give her the one-finger salute.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t found out much. She’s a very private person. She doesn’t talk much to anyone at work about her private life. This is what I know so far. Her dad used to work here before he passed away. Apparently, he and Cameron Hughes were very close friends. A few of the older employees attended his funeral and said that Tristan and her mom behaved very peculiarly.

“During the graveside ceremony, Mallory, her mother, sat stone-faced. She showed no emotion whatsoever. When Tristan broke down and cried, her mother constantly hounded her to stop acting like a baby. They said it was awful; the woman would not let Tristan grieve at her own father’s funeral. Rumors surfaced later that she and Mallory got into a huge argument in the parking lot, and Tristan refused to ride with her. Obviously, Tristan and her mother do not get along.”

“That might explain why she runs hot and cold all the time. She may have some intimacy issues. I know she likes me; I’m just not sure she knows it yet.” Claire sucked down half her drink and felt her dark mood begin to lift.

“Give her a little time, Claire. You’ve only just met, and although you are comfortable with a relationship, this might be something she will have to work into.

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“While we are talking about family, I’m curious to know about yours. What does your family think about your sexual preference for women?”

“I have no family, really. My mom, dad and sister were killed in a car accident when I was younger. My grandmother, who took me in after their deaths, passed away a few years ago, so now, I guess it’s just me.”

“Oh, Claire, I am so sorry.” Ellen’s face filled with compassion.

“Please forgive me for prying and churning up painful memories.”

Claire smiled, but the pain showed through in her eyes. “I’m okay. There’s no need to apologize.”

“Well, consider yourself adopted into the Comeaux clan. I’ll stand in as your big sister if you’ll have me.”

Claire raised her glass in a toast. “Then, it’s official. You’re my new big sister, just as long as I don’t have to baby-sit my nieces and nephews.”

Ellen raised her glass and tapped it gently to Claire’s with a chuckle. “You’ve got a deal, sis. Besides, my kids are too old to need a babysitter. You’re off the hook.”

Claire spent the afternoon pouring out her heart to Ellen well after they had switched to coffee. Her new sister listened intently and tried to give advice and encouragement when she could. On her ride home, Claire felt better, and it seemed like a load had been lifted off her shoulders. She hoped that the new workweek would bring about something positive between her and Tristan.

When she walked into the busy dispatch center on Monday morning, Claire’s heart did a flip when she saw the vase of flowers sitting in the middle of her desk. Tristan was nowhere to be seen.

She tried to look casual as she plucked the card, tore it open, and read it silently.

Dear Claire,

I hope these brighten your day.

Your Friend,

Mike

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Claire did her utmost best to hide her disappointment when she looked into the neighboring office where Mike sat grinning. She had assumed they were from Tristan and suddenly felt embarrassed and silly.

Claire buried herself in her work. Crew change was in effect, and she helped Lauren and Mike set up the numerous travel plans that came through their email in abundance. She gave Tristan a slight smile when she arrived and went back to work, determined to concentrate on something that did not revolve around the woman who sat in the office next to her.

Phones in the work area of the crew coordinators rang incessantly. They talked back and forth to one another as they lined up the boats for crew change. Claire thought it sounded a lot like the New York Stock Exchange. Occasionally, one of the coordinators would lose his temper with an obstinate crew member and yell out a string of curses at which the other coordinators would shout their agreement.