I should answer with a dismissive lie, but the moment I open my mouth, the truth tumbles out. I tell him everything—working in Anchorage for Wade, my parents selling the property, my growing sense that I’m holding them back, this feeling that my entire life is in limbo. Talking to Tyler has always been so easy.
“What happened to opening up a hair salon in your cabin?”
“That was a half-baked option Jim threw out. It wouldn’t work, anyway. Vicki doesn’t want to live there. She wants to be on her own.” But the issues Liz raised are fair. The clinic and cabin aren’t mine. There are three of us, and short of me buying them out one day, tough decisions will have to be made.
Will I still feel the same desire to live on that property and walk through that clinic door and look at the house across the field once my parents are gone? Once Sunday dinners and the blare of the clown horn are nothing but a memory?
I remember Jonah in those weeks and months after Wren’s death. He said everything had changed. Everything felt hollow.
Maybe I’m dwelling too much on something that won’t happen for another ten or fifteen years.
But what if it happens tomorrow?
“I’m beginning to think they should sell now. Go to Mexico or Europe or wherever else they want. Enjoy life while they still can. But I don’t think my father will make that call. I have to make the decision for him.” I worry my bottom lip. “It’s hard, pulling the plug like that. Making such a big change that you don’t want.” Letting go of the clinic, the house. My childhood. My life as I’ve always known it, up until now.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” A soft sigh slips from him. “But in the end, it’s just a building. It’s replaceable. The people in it aren’t. You aren’t. You can set up a new clinic anywhere, and people will come to you.”
I smile. “That’s what Jonah said.”
“It’s true. Have you ever looked into one of those mobile vet clinic trailers? They had one on a show I was watching, and it made me think of you. You’re always coming out to kennels, anyway, so why not drive your clinic there?”
I laugh. “Do you have any idea how much those cost?” I have looked into it. “Plus, then I’d need somewhere to park it.”
“You could park it here.”
“What? No. I’m not parking a clinic here.”
“Why not? Look at all the land I’ve got, Marie. And I have a third bedroom we don’t use. You’re always welcome to it.”
I don’t know where these offers are coming from, but I assume they’re empty. “I saw enough this morning about how you guys live around here to pass on that, but thanks, anyway.”
He chuckles. “Didn’t appreciate that one, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.” I’m sure I’ll be dwelling on it late into the night.
“Haw,” he calls out, directing the dogs to the left. I brace for the turn as they propel us forward.
“So, you did? Is that what you’re saying?” There’s a hint of something in his voice, and I sense him leaning closer into me, that familiar and intoxicating scent of cedar and citrus teasing my nostrils.
We’re falling back into dangerous territory where he flirts, and I flirt back, and we both forget that he’s going to hurt me. “I’ll make sure to meet you in the barn from now on,” I say in a more even tone, adding, “With more puppies, if you ever ask me to do this again.”
He snorts. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“He needed a home, and really? You don’t know me very well, then. I have no boundaries when it comes to dogs, remember?”
“I may not know everything about you, but I know you, Marie.” His breath skates across my cheek. “And I miss you.”
The longing in his voice tugs at my heart. “I miss you, too,” I admit in a whisper before I can talk myself out of it.
His arms tighten around me, and he leans in to press his bristly cheek against mine, the corners of our mouths lined up perfectly. Just the tiniest turn from me, and our lips would find each other.
I shouldn’t allow any of this, and yet I can’t pull away, my eyes closing as I absorb this feeling, wishing this moment could last forever.
We slide home in silence.
*
“Happy birthday again!” I holler over my shoulder.
Mabel waves, and without hesitation, Reed waves back, his furry gift tucked beneath his arm as they disappear inside the barn.
Tyler is jogging from the house on a path toward us, and I instinctively slow my pace, allowing him to meet us just as we reach my truck.