Page 15 of Shifting Gears

Dani nods. “Yeah, I get it. I actually grew up in the city for a while.”

“Really?”

The question comes out maybe a bit more incredulous than it should, but Dani doesn’t comment. She never seems to mind Eleanor’s unintentional rudeness. She only nods, a little more solemn this time.

“My dad’s family grew up here, but he moved down south to be with my mom. My Aunt Carol stayed. She was a single mom, and she wanted to raise Sarah in a smaller community. So when my parents died…”

Eleanor’s heart sinks. Not from dread or nerves this time, but empathy. Her grief over her father’s death is complicated, but having lost her own mother when she was barely out of kindergarten, Eleanor knows the slight ache that accompanies the trailing off of Dani’s story. The hollow place where someone is missing, no matter how much time passes.

“Car crash. So you don’t have to ask,” Dani says with a kind smile, sensing Eleanor’s hesitance. “Carol is my godmother as well as my aunt, so she adopted me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Eleanor says simply. She herself has never liked the kind of cloying, uncomfortable pity that usually accompanies admitting that her parents are dead, and Dani seems grateful not to receive it from her.

“Thank you. It’s okay. I miss them, but I’m okay,” Dani says. There’s an old sadness there, but Dani doesn’t linger on it. “Turns out there was a shoddy repair in their car. I used to take cars apart all the time, trying to make them safer, maybe figure out how I could have—” Dani stops herself, sighing and laughing a little. “Well. I was eight. Two separate therapists and my grandparents’superearnest rabbi all assured me that I couldn’t have done anything, but I can do something now. Fix stuff before it breaks. Try to make things better.”

The soft explanation reminds Eleanor with an uncomfortable jolt of her entire purpose here—the project she’s been pushing aside in favour of the woman sitting across the table. She’s looked at her in-progress feasibility study less than usual since she met Dani, but the comment about safety and making things better is a stark reminder.

Eleanor wants to make things better, too. For her eco-tech projects to ever see the light of day, she should really be doing her job instead of whatever she’s doing right now.

“That’s very noble of you,” Eleanor says, taking a more moderate sip of tea and pushing that thought back down. “Is that why you chronically undercharge people?”

Dani shrugs. She stuffs the rest of the doughnut into her mouth and moves on to the next. “Only the people I like.”

Eleanor directs her smile downward and into her tea.

“You’ve heard my tragic backstory now. What about you?” Dani asks. She carefully selects a sprinkled doughnut, rotating it to find the best place for a first bite, and Eleanor hopes that the shot of anxiety the question sends through her goes unnoticed. “I don’t know much about you.”

Eleanor straightens her posture. She folds her hands around her cup, arms braced on the table in preparation to avoid as many questions as possible. “What do you want to know?”

“Hey, no reason to be nervous,” Dani says. Her easy tone is helpful, but her first question is one Eleanor has been hoping to avoid. “Just curious. Like, what do you like to do? Hobbies, interests?”

Eleanor swallows. Her burnt tongue feels too big for her mouth.

“I work for a tech company. Corporate,” Eleanor says. Keeping it vague is probably for the best. Thankfully Dani takes another huge bite of her sprinkle doughnut and doesn’t seem to question it.

“Not exactly what I asked, but that explains the clothes,” Dani says, gesturing vaguely at Eleanor with sugary hands. Eleanor bristles.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing! They’re really nice. But you definitely look like you’re ready for the boardroom, not the gas station coffee shop.”

Eleanor looks down at herself. She’s wearing what she would consider a completely average outfit—a pencil skirt and blouse with heels. Sure, the heels are Louboutin. And she might have put a bit of extra effort into her hair, brushing and straightening it incessantly, knowing there was a chance she’d see Dani at the shop. But she hasn’t changed her makeup routine from the one she usually does before work every day.

Oh.

“I take your point,” Eleanor admits, smoothing her skirt down with a wry smile. “So, if I buy some clothes here, do they come with motor oil already on them, or do I need to pay extra?”

Dani grins, dusting her hands together until rainbow sprinkles scatter from her fingers into her lap. “No oil required. Maybe just something a little more comfortable if you’re gonna be living here?”

Comfortable. It’s been a long time since Eleanor felt truly comfortable anywhere, regardless of what she’s wearing. Before this little break, she spent her days among executives, only to go home to an apartment so tidy and disused that it’s always felt like a realtor’s showroom. Her clothes are picked to match.

She hadn’t really considered how other people see her here, but now that Eleanor thinks about it, it’s true—this is a jeans-and-flannel kind of town, with few exceptions. Simple and practical. She must stick out like a sore thumb.

“I only came for the summer,” Eleanor says. “Not sure I need a full wardrobe overhaul for a short trip.”

Dani nods appraisingly. “So this is your vacation?”

Eleanor wrings her hands together under the table. The conversation is dancing very close to the truth, and as Dani removes the plastic lid from her coffee to take a careful sip, Eleanor wrestles with her options. She could outright lie to Dani about the reason behind her time in Riverwalk, or she could reveal it all and let the chips fall where they may.

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