Building Bridges
This had been worth coming thousands of miles to see . . .
SO, what are you going to do?” Stella sighed as Louise asked the question. She looked out of the window. The plane was descending through the clouds and she could see the outline of fields and houses.
Putting 6,000 miles between herself and the problem wasn’t the answer, but she needed a holiday and she’d never been to San Francisco before.
“I’m going to forget about it,” she announced, even though she was the one who’d just wondered aloud how Pete was getting on.
“Quite right.” Louise nodded. “For the next ten days it’s just us girls on a trip of a lifetime. We’ll shop, drink wine and see the sights. It’ll be great.”
Stella hoped so; hoped she could take her mind off Pete long enough to enjoy the holiday.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we shall be landing shortly,” a voice over the loudspeaker said. “Fasten your seatbelts, stow your trays and make sure your seat is in the upright position.”
“I always hate the landing.” Louise gritted her teeth. “I hope it’s not going to be too bumpy.”
“Welcome to my life,” Stella whispered.
She and Pete hadn’t been getting along. Maybe it was the stress of working together. It had been their dream to run their own business, but the pressures of doing it had left them exhausted at the end of the day and unable or unwilling to communicate.
She’d always believed they’d had a strong relationship; now, when they did talk, it was only to snipe at each other. Her college sweetheart had become someone she almost didn’t recognise.
“Maybe it’s only now I’m seeing the real Pete, under stress,” she’d told Louise.
“It’s the same for him,” her friend had answered.
“I just don’t know if I like him at the moment.”
The confession had shocked her. What shocked her more was that they’d hired Luke to help with design and she’d found herself being carefree and laughing around him. She was even attracted to him.
Pete had caught them bantering one day and had walked out looking hurt.
“Don’t flirt with the hired help,” he’d said later that evening.
“I wasn’t. Anyway, what were you doing with that girl at the craft fair?” “What?” He’d frowned. “Don’t protest innocence. You were laughing together.”
He’d shaken his head. “I’m going back to the spreadsheets.”
He hadn’t come in to eat until she’d gone to bed.
How could it have got to this stage, when they’d always been best friends?
Maybe they’d married too young, before they’d even had a chance to sample single life or to see who else was out there.
Well, she was going to relish being alone these next ten days. Pete had seemed pleased when she said he would just have to manage on his own while she jetted off.
The next day she and Louise went sightseeing: riding the trolley cars, exploring Chinatown and Fisherman’s Wharf.
They marvelled at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance and booked a boat trip for the following morning. Not having to think about work felt as if a burden had been lifted.
In the evening they went for drinks and a meal in a posh hotel.
“There are a lot of good-looking guys around,” Louise said.
Many appeared to be businessmen having a drink at the end of a hard day. Stella wondered how many had families to go home to.
She wondered what Pete was doing at this moment. Probably fast asleep.
She hadn’t even rung him to say she’d arrived.
“Ladies, the two gentlemen over there would like to buy you a drink.” The waiter stopped by to replenish their cocktails.
Two good-looking men, one blond, the other dark, raised their glasses from a table across the room.
“Shall we join them?” Louise asked. “You’re single, I’m not.” “Pretend you are.” But Stella knew she couldn’t do that, even though she was halfway across the world and no-one would know. No matter how many problems she and Pete were having, it would have seemed like a betrayal.
“Do you mind if we don’t?”
Louise smiled and shrugged.
The fog was rolling in off the Pacific and settling in the bay when they boarded the boat next morning.
“This happens often, folks,” their guide said as they set off. “Hopefully it’ll clear and you’ll get to see the bridge.”
“Fancy coming all this way and not seeing it.” Louise was disappointed.
The fog was cold and Stella hugged herself. Through the gloom came the sound of a foghorn. The boat’s engine died.
“We’re now under the bridge.” The guide rattled off facts about it. They could have been anywhere, so dense was the fog.
“This is me and Pete,” Stella said. “Floundering in the
fog without an engine.”
“But you’re still there, even if you can’t see each other at the moment. Just like the bridge,” Louise pointed out.
The foghorn sounded again, warning boats that the bridge was close by.
“Where are we, Pete?” she whispered.
“Next stop Alcatraz,” Louise said cheerfully.
Yes, Stella felt like she was in prison.
The next day she felt different. She didn’t know why. Louise had planned a trip to a vineyard in Marin County. It was a gloriously sunny day as they set off in the hired car and this time the bridge rose majestically into the clear blue sky.
“At last we get to see it close up,” Louise said. “Only this time we go over, instead of under.”
As they approached the bridge, Stella craned her neck to see it in all its glory and something inside her flickered. The Golden Gate Bridge had been there all the time, just as she’d seen in pictures.
Underneath the fog of what she and Pete were going through was the reality of their relationship.
He would love to be here, she knew. Why was she sharing it with Louise and not him? She hadn’t even thought of Luke on this trip.
“I’m going to ring Pete,” she suddenly said.
She expected Louise to frown, but was wrong.
“Four days apart. Yeah, I reckoned it wouldn’t be long before you came to your senses!”
Stella heard Pete’s familiar voice on the other end of the line and her heart jumped.
“It’s me,” she said tentatively. “Louise and I are on the Golden Gate Bridge and I realise how much I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, love.” He sounded so happy to hear from her. This was her Pete, the Pete she loved. “Having a good time?” “Yes, but it would be better if you were here.”
It was time to build a bridge. n