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I felt a gushing of pride like I’d never felt in my life. In a few simple words, he’d managed to distill something about myself I don’t think I’d even recognized. But as soon as I heard him say it, I knew the words were all true. Odder still, I felt intensely proud of myself for what I’d been able to do. He was right. It was bad ass, and I could hardly believe Travis was the one I needed to see that. But that’s what he did, wasn’t it? People didn’t just gush for him because he was gorgeous. He made people feel good. His real talent was making them see the best versions of themselves. Somehow, he taught people to fall in love with themselves.
“You alright over there?” he asked, elbowing my arm.
“I’m fine,” I said. I cleared my throat. “And thank you. I may not be great at accepting compliments, but… it was really nice of you to say all of that. So, thank you.”
Travis beamed. “Gratitude accepted.”
I grinned to myself, then felt an unexpected pulse of sadness. I’d only ever envied or been irritated by Travis and his seemingly perfect existence. But now I wondered what it must be like. He spent all of his energy making other people happy. People gravitated to him like he was an addictive drug. But did anyone ever worry about making him happy?
Do not feel sorry for him, a voice in my head warned. Travis was dangerous enough without me deciding I needed to pity the man or worse, admire him. I folded my arms and decided not to talk for the rest of the ride.
Travis seemed comfortable with the silence, although he had a nerve-wracking habit of jerking his head around to look at anything mildly interesting we drove past. At times, I wasn’t sure how he kept the car on the road as he was practically turned around in his seat to grin or chuckle at a billboard or point at a bird. I thought he might share a brain with a very large puppy.
We parallel parked on the street in a quaint little town nestled in the mountains. Travis struggled a little with the parking job, even in the tiny car he’d acquired for our second date. He whistled absently while he made about seven adjustments, shifting between drive and reverse over and over to inch his way into the spot. He dusted his hands like he was satisfied with his work once he put the car in park.
“Parking isn’t one of your many talents?” I asked.
“I’m an excellent driver. Terrible at parking,” he said with a deprecating little smile that was so disarming it was almost impossible not to smile back. I managed, though.
He got out of the car, checked out his work with his hands on his hips, then nodded. “Step one is the train ride to the top of the mountain,” he said.
“Lead on.” I took a spot beside his big body. If I ever lost track of him in a crowd, I could either look for the stupidly tall man who was a head taller than everyone else, or I could probably look for the gathering crowd of admiring onlookers. Actually, I could likely just yell “Look, a puppy!” and he’d come running.
He already had tickets pre-purchased on his phone, which he showed at a kiosk. We waited in a short line, then got to sit at the back of a cute little red train that looked about a hundred years old. The temperature in town had been a little too warm, but our drive up into the mountains had cut the humidity and left things at the perfect temperature.
I leaned against the wall and gazed out the open window of the train. My thoughts went back to what he’d told me the other night. His “secret” to life. At this point, I was very literally stuck on the train, so why not try to enjoy it? Maybe I could forget about the man to my left for a few minutes and just clear my—
“I love trains,” Travis said. His knees were bouncing and he was looking around with a stupid half smile on his face. “Just something about them.” People were shuffling aboard in families, pairs of retirees, and some solo riders. A man at the front in some sort of conductor outfit was standing with a little handheld radio attached to the ceiling by a stretchy spiral cord.
I tried not to take the bait, but I sighed. “What about trains fascinates you, exactly?”
He folded his arms and his forehead creased. “Hmm. I think it’s something about how you can’t get off. I’ve got the same thing with planes. There aren’t many places in life where you get permission to just shut your mind off and be in the moment, but a train or a plane? What else are you going to do?”
