Chapter Fourteen
“Heidi, first round’s on me,” Brick shouts across the bar to his sister.
Nine of us are gathered around a table meant for six, our elbows bumping into each other, our chair legs crossing. No one
cares about the proximity to people who were strangers yesterday. We’ve passed our first test—more of a test for some than
others—in the mountains. I’m sure the prospect of free drinks is helping.
Heidi laughs and raises a skeptical eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”
“Bridget fell in the creek,” offers Ian. “Brick invoked the free-drinks rule! Cheers to Bridget!” He lifts an invisible cup
into the air, since his free drink hasn’t arrived yet. The group follows suit.
Heidi raises an eyebrow and gives her brother a twisted smile. “Is that so?” She and I both know there is no “free-drinks
rule.” Brick shrugs, a boyish smirk on his weathered face, and Heidi starts pouring beer from the tap.
“And a Coke,” says Dane.
“Make that two,” adds Ian as his son scrunches his nose in disappointment.
Heidi lines the beers up on the counter. Brick stands, pushing his chair back. It scrapes across the rough-hewn wooden floor.
“Drinks coming up.”
“Let me help you,” I say, scraping my own chair.
We wait at the bar while Heidi fills the soft drinks from a spigot.
The Heidaway is just what you would expect from an outback building in Alaska, right out of Northern Exposure.
Wood-paneled walls adorned with what I’ve come to realize are the requisite bleached-out moose antlers. A dusty taxidermied
white owl perches on a shelf above the bottles of booze, and framed photos of huskies outnumber the guests. In one photo,
a team of dogs harnessed to a sled pose with a young woman holding a trophy. I notice similar trophies behind the bar. Leaning
forward, I take a closer look.
“Is that Heidi?”
Brick wraps his hands around two beer glasses and glances up at the photo. “Yup.” He delivers the drinks to rousing cheers
and returns. “She was a teen champion musher back in the day. Came in third in the Junior Iditarod in ’93. At one point or
another we had thirty dogs on the property. She raised every one of them. Now she’s down to one, ol’ Koda, a near-deaf, geriatric
husky who sleeps on the couch and doesn’t pull his weight for anything.”
“Except when he’s guarding her pickup and scaring the shit out of the customers.” I laugh.
Brick lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, sorry again about that.”
I flap my hand. I’ve got bigger fish to fry than a grumpy dog. “Thirty dogs is impressive! And as a teenager. I can barely
manage one stubborn cat.”
“Yeah, she’s got a much cushier job now. Running the only bar in town, back-office stuff for the adventure business, catering
meals for the groups. Although sometimes the clients can act like a pack of starving dogs—present cohort excluded, of course.”
“Of course.”
We grab two more glasses each, deliver them to my now-adoring fans, and return for the last of them.
“Hey, Brick,” I say before we can head back. “I’m aware drinks for falling in the drink isn’t a thing.” My face flushes as I say it.
“You are, now?” he answers, not sharing my flush or any embarrassment at being called out. “I think I need to have another
talk with Jace about discretion and the better part of valor.”
“Oh, don’t get him in trouble! He was so helpful today. Saved me a couple of times from falling on my face. But seriously,
why did you do it? The drinks, I mean.”
He glances down to the toe of his boot, but only for a moment. Then he is looking right into my eyes, and I feel a prickle
at the base of my skull. “It’s clear you and your sister aren’t the most experienced trekkers here. Lily seemed to power through . . .”
“Well, she’s on a mission. And a lot younger than me. She can still fake it till she makes it.”
“Ha, well, age doesn’t really factor in. The outdoors is for everyone. But I’d love to hear more about this mission later.”
If I could only tell you, I think.
“Anyway, Lily did a nice job of what you call faking it, but I saw you struggling. I may have been at the head of the group,
but I know what’s going on with all my people. And despite the strain of that trail, you didn’t give up. You didn’t even complain.”
“You should have heard what was going on inside my head.”
Brick chuckles. “Well, I didn’t, and neither did anyone else. You made light of it when you went into the creek, though I
could tell you were embarrassed. I didn’t want you to lose confidence, because every day you are going to get better and stronger,
and I didn’t want you to give up. So, I made it into a prizewinning situation. Now you’re their champion. But let’s keep this
between us. I don’t want everyone throwing themselves into the drink or off a trail for a reward.”
He holds out a pinkie, and I lock mine around his.
“Promise.” I have some experience with this secret-keeping thing.
Back at the table, I sip my beer and think about what our guide did for me.
I’m touched and a bit off balance. I’m usually on the other end of that, looking out for people, smoothing out the bumps and cracks in their road.
The noise level rises as more people come into Heidaway, most of whom pat Brick on the back as they walk toward the bar. Everyone
must know everyone in this one-moose town.
“Earth to Big.” Lily leans across the table and waves her hand in my face.
“I’m sorry, Lil. Wow, I’m beat. I think I’m going to go back to the cabin. Another long day tomorrow.”
“What? No! Stay.” Lily reaches across the table, wraps her fingers around my forearm, and squeezes gently. I take it as a
sign she needs me. And I am nothing if not the employee of the month when it comes to my big-sister job requirements.
“Sure,” I say with a smile meant to convey empathy, to say, we’re in this together, I’ve got your back, little sis. My smile lands on the side of Lily’s head as she turns immediately to her audience, the men so easily rapt by anything that
comes tripping out of my sister’s beautiful lips. Even Xavier, whose connection to Lily gave Luna the idea she was a great
maternal figure for him. I think Ian had it right, though, judging from the twinkle in the boy’s eyes. So, my purpose here
right now is exactly what?
Brick has gone to talk to some people at the bar. Jace is bopping his leg, I’m sure anxious to end a very long day of schlepping
and caretaking. I turn to Luna and Mimi, but they are deep in conversation, Luna’s arm around her wife’s shoulders, her lips
close to Mimi’s ear, the latter looking pale and drained.
“Everything good?” I ask.
Luna rubs Mimi’s back and says, “We old folks have to turn in. Today was like spending the day with our grandkids.”
“You have grandchildren?” I ask before I stop to think if it’s offensive. Families come in all shapes and sizes. “I mean,
neither of you are old enough.” My cover sounds lame even to me, but Luna is gracious.
“Five of them. And two daughters. Before I was married to Mimi I was married to Nathan. For twenty years. Sometimes we do what’s expected of us. We want to make everyone around us happy. Until we realize that our best intentions are helping no one. You know what I mean?”
“I do,” I say. I do.
“Anyway, we’re going to head back. Do you want to join us? You must be exhausted. Jace, could you give us a ride?”
Jace jumps up as if he’s been called out of the bullpen. “I’d be chuffed, yeah.” I think that’s the last we’ll see of him
tonight.
“I think I’ll stay for a bit.” I hold up my beer as if I’ve got to finish my drink. Truth is, I’ve barely finished a beer
since college, but I want to work on taking Lily back to the cabin. I think about what Tim said about convincing her to talk
to me. Unbottle her feelings about Eric, get it off her chest, so that when we go home next week, she feels strong enough
to start the process of removing that asshole from her life.
The women and Jace say their good nights, and the remaining group pull their chairs even closer. I sit quietly, with my hands
in my lap, wondering how long before Lily is willing to leave, when over the rumble of chatting and laughter I hear my sister
say, “I was nine, and Big had just gotten her license . . .” I freeze. She’s about to tell that story. I should have left with Luna and Mimi. I start sweating like I’m trudging up the mountain again. Lily smiles at me
conspiratorially as if I’m in on the punch line. I am not.
“The new Patti the Platypus Beanie Baby had just launched, and my mother wouldn’t take me to buy one before they sold out.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. It sounds like this is going to be a sweet tale of sibling support and
love. Everyone looks at me like I’m Sister of the Year.
“So, I begged Big to take me to Toys “R” Us, and at first, she was all mom-like about it. ‘You don’t need a new toy just because it’s popular.’ ” She made her voice gruff and grumbly to make the seventeen-year-old me sound like a tyrant. “But I cried and pleaded, and she finally gave in.”
Of course I did. Story of my life with Lily. I was always torn between being a good sister, giving her what she wanted, and
knowing that I was going to have to break the rules to give it to her. Being a rule breaker was not my strong suit, surprise,
surprise.
“But we didn’t even get out of our own town. She was pulling onto the highway, and all of a sudden, boom, she slammed on the
brakes, and someone hit us from behind.” Lily got the collective gasp she was looking for. “I mean, Mom’s car was squashed,
but we were okay. I had these funny bruises across my shoulder and belly—from the seat belts. And Big got grounded for a month.
The worst part was I never got my Patti the Platypus.” Lily laughs. “So silly, what things are so important to you. You don’t
get them, and you have to learn to live without.”
I wonder if Lily is really talking about the toy.
“I wanted the Atari 2600. Never got it,” says Ian wistfully.
“I hate to break it to you, but you can buy these all on eBay right now,” adds Xavier like he’s talking to a bunch of boomers.
He holds up his phone and there is the platypus Beanie Baby from 1994 for sale.
“Let’s buy it,” shouts Dane. “No, wait. Let me get it. My gift to you, Lily.”
My sister lifts one shoulder to her ear. “Aww, Dane.”
“Give me your address,” he says while typing into his phone. “It will be there waiting when you go home. Or I could bring
it to you. Special delivery. If you want.”
“Would you? Aren’t you sweet.”
That’s it. Time to scrape my chair again. It’s dramatic enough to grab everyone’s attention. “Lily, I gotta pee. Come with.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
I mumble under my breath, “For f’s sake, why am I even here?” and stomp off to the ladies’.
The toilet is one tiny room, faded moose-themed wallpaper, more framed photos of Heidi’s sled team, a mirror framed in—wait
for it—bleached antlers. I stare at my reflection. I didn’t wear makeup today. It seemed unnecessary for a hike in the woods.
When I’d gotten back to camp, still without my luggage, I had to borrow a pair of sweatpants someone left behind so my leggings
could dry. Now I look like I’ve been lost in the woods for months. Especially compared to my sister, who not only put on her
full face before breakfast, but reapplied and used her curling iron before dinner and changed into her night-out clothes to
come here. I’ve got to rein Lily in, for her own sake. There is no self-discovery, nothing Zen about inviting a D-list actor
from LA to your home in suburban New Jersey. Where your husband still lives.
Leaning on the sink, I try to muster up the energy to go back out there and be social, but before I can open the bathroom
door my phone buzzes. It startles me; I thought there was no service out here in the middle of nowhere except at the top of
mountains. I’ll bet it’s Tim, whose timing is impeccable. I need to talk to him about this Lily and Dane business.
Unfortunately, it is not someone who is going to help me solve my problems. It’s my mother.
“Finally,” she says sans a hello.
“Mom, it’s midnight there. Why are you up? Why are you calling in the middle of the night? Is everything okay? What’s going
on?”
“No. Nothing is okay.”
Now my chest does that thing it does when a blast of anxiety kicks at my sternum. “Mom, do you need to call 911?”
“I don’t need 911. Lord, you are such an alarmist.”
I count my breaths. “Fine. Then, what’s up?”
“I want you to know, your house is in chaos.”
“Welcome to my world, Mom.”
“Do you think that’s funny? You need to talk to your husband. He needs to run a tighter ship.”
I’ve spoken to my husband, I want to say, and most of the chaos is being caused by her.
I can’t help but throw a small, smug smile at the antler mirror. “I’ll do that,” I say, knowing I won’t. Tim must have it
under control, as he insisted he would before I left. “Listen, I’ve got to go now. We’re doing grizzly wrestling next.”
“That sounds like a nightmare. I hate to say I told you so.”
Does she, though? When we filled her in about the trip, she was less than supportive.
“The two of you alone in the forest? Are you out of your minds?” she’d said.
“Mom, we aren’t going to be alone,” I explained. “It’s a guided tour.”
“That doesn’t matter. Have you watched Alone? They eat squirrels and mice until they starve. And you two have no survival skills.”
“For Christ’s sake, Mother,” Lily had snapped, her normal lack of patience with my mother even thinner now. “We’re not being
dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a bow and arrow.”
“Well, our family is not the outdoorsy type. Have you ever heard of an Ackerman sitting around a campfire? No. Because we
were done with all that after we ran from the Cossacks. Now we enjoy the creature comforts we worked so hard to earn.” My
mother’s revisionist history of our family tree got more phantasmagorical with every telling. This was the first I’d heard
of any Cossacks. “You’re going to be miserable.”
“I really have to go, Mom,” I say, realizing I’ve been in this bathroom long enough for Lily to make some snide comments to
the group about what I’m doing in here.
“How’s your sister?” my mother asks. Her tone changes, and I know she is as concerned about Lily as I am.
“As well as can be expected.” Telling her about the rings, and the flirting, the extreme snark, and the crying isn’t going
to help anything.
“You keep an eye on her.”
“Of course, Mom. That’s what I’m here for.” Ruth Ackerman knows that better than anyone else.
Finally, I resort to knocking on the wall to get my mother off the phone. “Someone needs the bathroom, I’ve gotta go.”
“You’re hiding in a bathroom? I knew this was going to be bad.” And she’s back.
“No, you called me while I was in the bathroom. Now I have to go. My friends are waiting for me.”
When I finally return to the bar, I see my friends are not waiting for me. Their attention is turned to something else. And,
no surprise, my sister is in the middle of it.