Chapter Fifteen
The first thing I see is Lily, standing behind Dane, her hands to her mouth, her brows arched over wide eyes. Then I see Dane’s
back, his elbow raised and pulled behind him, his hand in a tight ball. With his other arm, he is clutching a fistful of some
guy’s fleece. The stranger’s face is twisted and red. A bar stool and a chair from our table are upturned. A beer glass lies
smashed on the floor, its former contents running across the uneven floorboards. A circle has formed around Lily and the two
men.
Before a punch is thrown, Heidi and I rush into the circle. She puts herself squarely between the two men. I loop my arms
around my sister’s waist and pull her out of the way of danger. Heidi and I must have gone to the same Sister Basic Training.
Jump in and defend first, ask questions later.
“Break it up,” she commands in a voice that could keep thirty sled dogs in line.
The guy jerks himself out of Dane’s grip. Dane backs up but bounces on his toes like he’s Rocky Balboa.
I swing my sister around and grab her wrists. “Lily, what the hell happened?”
“And keep your fucking hands to yourself,” Dane yells at his opponent. Brick now has his hand on the actor’s back.
“She came on to me,” he snarls back.
Heidi is pointing to the door. “Outside, Shane,” she growls at the other guy. Shane straightens his shirt and strides out of the bar, letting the door slam behind him. It’s only a moment before we hear tires spinning in the gravel parking lot.
Okay, I’m getting the gist. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she says, her voice an octave higher than normal. “I was being friendly.”
“How friendly?”
“Friendly! Like polite! I went for more beers, and I got up to the bar and he started chatting with me. What was I supposed
to do? And then, well, he got a little too close, and Dane—”
“He had his hand on her,” Dane adds defiantly. “I wasn’t just going to stand there.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Heidi says. “Shane isn’t great with social cues, isn’t around people that often, but I promise you he’s
harmless.”
“Still,” says Brick. “We don’t need our clients in the middle of any kerfuffles, that’s not what you came to Alaska for.”
He gives his sister a sibling glance of disapproval, one I’ve used often myself.
“Right,” she says. “I’ll talk to him. He can go hang out at the Copper Mine in Kennicott for the rest of the week.”
Our group huddles around Lily and Dane. Xavier looks at his new action hero with saucer eyes. Ian goes to the bar to finish
Lily’s job. I right the fallen chair and start to pick up pieces of broken glass as if it was my kid who spilled the punch
at the party. Heidi tries to shoo me away, but old habits die hard. I turn my back for a moment, to toss the shards into a
trash bin, and when I get back at the group, Lily and Dane are gone.
“Have you seen Lily?” I ask Ian, his hands full of the fresh beers.
“I think they’re outside.”
They.
“They said they wanted a smoke,” adds Xavier.
There’s that word again. There is no they. Not on my watch.
“Lily doesn’t smoke,” I snap at an innocent teenage boy. “I’m sorry, Xavier. I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed now. Brick, is it okay for me to walk back to camp?” I’m exhausted, but I could use the time alone with Lily, who I intend to drag out of here with me. Enough of this nonsense.
“I’d rather you didn’t, Bridget. I’ll run you back.”
“I don’t want to pull you away.”
“It will take two secs.”
“When are you off duty?” I say, grateful for the lift.
“When my last client is tucked in for the night,” he says with a smile, no malice for keeping him working till all hours on
his kind face. “Well, then. I’m going to grab Heidi’s truck out back. After you, Bridget.”
“Just let me get Lily. I’ll meet you back there in a sec.”
“No problem. Back exit is through the kitchen.”
We part, and I head toward the front door. Stepping outside is otherworldly and unsettling. It’s as light as a midafternoon
even though my phone tells me it’s after nine and my old bones scream, It’s the dead of night, you fool, why aren’t you in bed?
“The sun sets around eleven thirty this time of year,” Brick had said earlier when I’d asked him what gives. “We have about
twenty hours of sunlight in the summer. Up north, it’s twenty-four. Come back in the winter. New Year’s Day is our shortest
day. Five hours of light. It gets a little better every day after that.”
“I guess they sell a lot of light-therapy lamps up here. The Seasonal Affective Disorder must be rampant.”
“Ha, you get used to it. Having said that, every once in a while, you hear something howling at the moon. And it’s not a wolf.
Although the ruckus can rile them up too. Then it’s a whole symphony out here.”
I’d sighed and silently added wolf to the list of beasts out here that could take me out.
I step out onto the front porch of the Heidaway.
My secondhand hiking boots, finally dry after the long hike back to the trailhead and an hour on Brick’s boot heater, make a hollow thump on the worn wood.
Lily is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Dane.
I wander into the parking lot, where every vehicle is a dusty or muddy or rusty pickup truck.
One has a large brown dog sitting in the cab, waiting for its owner to finish their beer.
I finally spot her, her back against a tall, thick tree.
Dane is standing with her, one straight arm leaning on the tree trunk.
From here I can see the glow of the two cigarettes they each have tucked between their fingers.
“Lily!” I shout from across the parking lot. It’s my mother’s voice coming out, sharp and accusatory. Like when she arrived
at the accident scene, the very one Lily was so glibly telling our new friends about, only it wasn’t my sister’s name my mother
was shouting. It was mine. “Bridget! What have you done? Look at your sister. Do you see these bruises? Right across her . . . her lady parts. My God,
I’ll be surprised if she’ll be able to have children after this.” The bruises from the seat belt had bloomed quickly across my sister’s little body. She shouldn’t have been in the front seat.
She shouldn’t have been in the car. Why didn’t I just say no? Why couldn’t I ever say no to Lily? The guilt and responsibility
seared my soul like a hot branding iron, and the mark never went away.
I readjust my tone as I approach them. My sister takes a defiant drag of her cigarette.
“Lily,” I say calmly, like I’m approaching a stray dog who might spook and run. “Let’s go, hon. I’m exhausted. Knackered, as Jace says.” I offer a knowing smile, proving how cool I am to have picked up on the lingo in a day and a half.
My sister takes another amateur puff. “Go on, then. I’m not tired yet. I’ll go back with the guys later.”
“Lil, please. I really need you to come with me. Now.” I don’t have the energy to come up with an excuse I can use in front of Dane.
In fact, my leaden weariness is turning my bones to dust and zapping my patience.
I grab onto Lily’s wrist, my grip meant to be gentler and more persuading than it is.
My sister jerks her arm out of my reach.
“Get off, Big.”
“Dammit, Lily. Can’t you just for once—”
“Ladies, ladies,” Dane butts in with a slight sardonic smile, which is instantly infuriating.
“Fuck off, Dane,” I snap.
Okay, there is a point of exhaustion where a person shouldn’t be held responsible for their actions. I climbed a mountain
today. Ofttimes, on my hands and knees. I fell into frigid water. Then I humped back down the steep trail, with the blisters
and bruised toes to prove it. All while having to pee. The last time I did any kind of serious exercise was when Annie and
I entered the mother/daughter FunFit Challenge at the Y when Annie was in middle school. I’m damn well entitled to let loose
a few f-bombs, especially with a guy who is trying to seduce my vulnerable, sad, married sister.
Dane throws up his palms, backs away from Lily, and gives me a wide berth on his way back into the bar. I dig my hands into
my hips. “Honestly, what is going on with you?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, actually, I’m not. Listen, I understand that you are creating some happy-go-lucky Lily for this trip. But you’re going
to get yourself in trouble if you’re not careful.”
“I’m trying to have fun.”
“So you’ve mentioned. News flash: you’re supposed to be having fun with me. Not some convict!”
She throws her cigarette to the ground and dramatically grinds at it with her boot. “What? Who is a convict?”
Instead of stating the obvious, I climb up onto my soapbox. “It’s fine if you don’t want anyone to know why we are here. That you don’t want to be that woman, to be constantly reminded of what happened. I don’t blame you for taking off your rings and reinventing yourself for
a week. But can’t we make this trip about focusing on you, like a reflection of where you are now, so you can move forward
when we go home? These people are strangers, Lil. A guy with a record? You are still married.”
“Tell that to Eric.”
Touché.
“And what guy with a record? Do you have some kind of wilderness fever? Did you eat some poison berries today? You sound insane.”
“I’m talking about Dane.”
“What the hell?”
“He said, worst thirty days he ever did.”
“In rehab, dummy.”
Oh. Hmm. I stiffen my spine to defend my position. I’m still right. “That could be just as bad. You don’t need to get mixed
up w—”
“All right, Mother Teresa,” she groans. “Don’t be a snob. Besides, Dane is harmless. And it’s helping me forget—”
“You think you can actually forget what happened? Why don’t you just tell me, get it off your chest. Let’s go back to the
cabin, crawl under the covers, and we can talk all night if you need to.”
My sister’s eyes soften and well up. She lets out a big sigh and opens her mouth. Finally. She’s going to tell me what Eric
said, how things got to this breaking point, and we’ll start to chart where she goes from here. Unburdening herself is going
to make things so much better, I just know it. “I . . . I . . .” she says, and I can hear the quiver in her voice. Then her
face changes, and I can tell I’ve lost her again. With her arms crossed, she juts her chin toward me. “Why are you even here
if you can’t chill out and let things go for one fucking week?”
The slap in my face sets me ablaze. No more Mr. Nice Guy. “Goddammit, Lily! You begged me to come. You said you can’t do this without me, and you were going no matter what. What was I supposed to do, Lily?”
Before either of us can say another word or punch each other in the face—which is what we both want to do right now—Brick
comes out from behind the building.
“There you are. I’m sorry, I thought I said I’d meet you in the back. I was waiting.” He gestures over his shoulder with his
thumb.
“No, I’m sorry. You did. Lily and I got talking and lost track of time. We’re ready. Right, Lily?”
“Yeah. Sure.” The fight has gone out of my sister, for now.
We climb into Heidi’s pickup, sitting three across on a worn bench seat held together with duct tape in a few spots. A dream
catcher and a pungent pine air freshener hang from the rearview mirror. Lily and I cross our arms and face forward. Brick,
most certainly feeling the tension, chews on a cuticle and says nothing.
In the cabin, Lily changes into her pajamas, and we walk the trail to the bathrooms, me with a frying pan in each hand, in
silence. Wordlessly, we climb into our separate twin beds under the bleached moose antlers.
My exhaustion turns into a buzzy, leg-cramping insomnia as I toss and turn and occasionally peer over at my sister’s back.
At some point I must have passed out, because when I wake up it is morning. I’m still deeply tired, with a heavy feeling in
my chest, and Lily wrapped around me, her face once again tucked into my damp collarbone.