“That won’t ever happen if they don’t start making smart decisions. And stop having babies they can’t afford.” And selfishly, I will admit, if Vicki moves back here, this idea that Mom and Dad sell and move to Eagle River will vanish, at least in the short term. Liz doesn’t need help; Vicki genuinely does.
I’m going to have a frank conversation with my little sister about how this option makes the most sense for her family.
I check my watch and then the parking lot in the distance. Cory’s not back yet, and my afternoon appointments will start rolling in soon. “I should get going. Sarah Mickle’s coming in with Stitch.”
“Oh, that feisty little dachshund. I remember when he was just a pup.” Dad frowns. “He must be getting up there now?”
“Fifteen.” I give my dad a look. There’s nothing more I can do to ease Stitch’s aches and pains, other than make his last moments as comfortable as possible. This is the part of my job that I will never get used to. It’s going to be a long, draining afternoon.
Dad’s frown grows deeper. I always knew the days when he had to put pets down. His shoulders would be sagging when he walked through the door. “Give her my condolences.”
I climb from my seat at the picnic table as the dogs take off barking toward the house. My mother’s hollers carry on the breeze. She’s standing in the doorway, waving us over.
Dad scratches at his chin. “Wonder what that’s about?”
“Maybe the pie’s ready.”
His eyes sparkle. “We should get over there, then, before she calms down and doesn’t let me eat it.”
Dad hobbles on his crutches toward the UTV, settles in, and cranks the engine, and I hop into the passenger seat. We coast along the narrow dirt lane.
The closer we get, the clearer my mother’s shocked expression becomes. Her hands are busy wringing a tea towel.
“I don’t think this is about pie,” my dad mutters.
“I think you might have pushed her over the edge.” I call out, “Is everything okay, Mom?”
“Yes, it’s just …” She has a bewildered look on her face. “We’re going to be grandparents again.”
“I know. Dad told me.” And once her worry ebbs, she’s going to be ecstatic. My mother lives for her grandchildren.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not talking about Vicki.”
If not Vicki, then …
“I just got off the phone with Liz. She’s two months along.”
My jaw hangs open for the second time in this lunch hour. “Liz is having another baby?” Liz, who has openly said she didn’t want any more kids? Who booked and drove Jim to his vasectomy appointment? “With whom?”
My mother shoots me an exasperated look.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You guys have been busy.”
“And you’ve been a ghost,” Jonah counters with a pointed glare.
“I’ve been busy too.” I take in the structure. When I last stopped in at Calla and Jonah’s in early spring, Jonah was cutting down trees on this spot with his chainsaw. Now there’s a two-story log cabin overlooking the lake, its tin roof and windows matching the green of their home across the water.
I guess it has been a bit too long since I’ve been by.
“Cute little place, though, huh?” Jonah pats the porch post. The sleeve of his blue T-shirt falls back to show off the scar he earned from the surgery to reset his bones last year. Aside from that, no one would know the arm had been broken, the muscle tone even with his other. “Two bedrooms, two baths. Not bad for a prefab. Took them no time to put it up.”
“I can’t believe it’s already done.”
His eyes drag across the overhang. “Almost done. The plumber and electrician are finished. Bathroom and kitchen are functioning. Floors are in. Now it’s just a lot of finishing touches.”
“Agnes must be getting excited?” I’ve known the Alaska Wild office manager for as long as I’ve known Jonah. She is the kindest woman I’ve ever met—a soft-spoken Alaska Native without a judgmental bone in her body.
His smothered smirk reminds me of a boy trying to hide his delight—and failing. “I talked to Aggie this morning. Everything’s sold or donated, their suitcases are packed. They’re ready to go.”
No matter how much Jonah loves Calla, I know he struggled with leaving Western Alaska. He built a full life there, with villagers who depended on him as a pilot, and friends who were like family. But then Calla came into the picture—a city girl visiting from Toronto, reconnecting with her estranged father—and that full life was suddenly empty without her.