Chapter 4
Reeve (and Parker)
Because we’re going out as friends, I insist on meeting Aaron downtown, but when I get to the Purple Parsnip, Aaron’s sitting in his car outside.
I knock on the window, and he lowers it, smiling at me.
“Evening.”
“Hi,” I say, cocking my head to the side. “Are we going inside?”
“Nope.”
“I thought we were having dinner,” I say.
“We are. Hop in.” I hesitate for a moment, and he widens his eyes at me. “You did agree to let me plan tonight. And you did agree to go along with whatever I planned…right?”
“You promised it wouldn’t be weird.”
“It’s not weird,” he says. “It’s just dinner. I promise.”
I round the car, open my own door and sit down in the passenger seat. “We’re going somewhere that requires a car?”
“Yep,” he says. “Buckle up.”
“So, we’re leaving Skagway?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, pulling away from the curb and driving north.
“Spill the beans,” I say. “Where are we going?”
He glances at me, grins, then slides his eyes back to the snowy road. “The Restaurant at Southern Lakes Resort.”
“What? What are you—Aaron! That’s two hours from here! In—in Canada!”
“Yep, and yep.”
“There are plenty of places in Skagway!” I cry. “Why the hell are we going two hours north to Canada?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Take a breath. Lets it go.
“I get one night with you,” he says softly. “I intend to make it count.”
I’m touched by his words, but still thrown off by his plan.
“Do you like music?” he asks, reaching for the radio dial and turning on Sirius. “I’ve known you for years, and I have no idea what kind of music you like.”
“All kinds,” I say. “But Gran played a lot of 60s and 70s when I was growing up.” I lean forward and press the up button until 70s on 7 pops up. Billy Joel’s classic, “She’s Always A Woman,” finishes, and the chords for Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams,” begin. “Is this okay?”
“Sure,” he says. “I grew up on this stuff, too.”
“You know,” I say, kicking off my boots and getting more comfortable for our two-hour journey north. “That’s a good segue. I don’t know a whole lot about your childhood, where you’re from, all that stuff.”
“Interested?”
“Actually, yeah. I am.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Start with the basics.”
“Okay. Um…let’s see…my mom’s from this little island in the Caribbean called Jamaica. You heard of it?”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot.”
“Okay.” He chuckles softly before continuing. “When she was eighteen, she went north to Florida for college, and spent her freshman year spring break in Key West. That’s where my parents met—in the Keys. My dad was on a weekend leave.”
“Leave?”
“From Patrick Air Force Base.” He grins at me. “I guess it was quite the weekend, because I came along nine months later.”
“Your parents got married?”
His smile fades. “They did. For a while. But they were way too young, you know? And my mom wasn’t really cut out for military life. During the first ten years, they lived in Florida for a while, then Colorado, then Idaho. When my father’s transfer orders to Elmendorf in Anchorage came through, she asked for a divorce. She was a Caribbean girl who’d lived through seven winters in Colorado and Idaho…she said that Alaska was out of the question.”
“Did she go back to Jamaica?”
“She did. Got remarried, too. I have two half-sisters down there.”
“You stayed with your dad?”
“My mom’s from this little town in Jamaica called Aberdeen. To get there, you fly into Montego Bay and drive two hours south. You ever heard of Appleton rum? The plantation and distillery are there. My aunts and uncles all work in the factory.” He shrugs. “Jamaica’s nice. It’s especially beautiful along the coast. But it’s really hard to understand Jamaican if you don’t grow up there—the accent is super strong. And my mom’s family is really religious, which we weren’t here. And I—I don’t know. I just didn’t feel like I fit in. I was this half-American kid who came to visit every few years. My cousins didn’t know what to make of me.” He sighs like he’s doing a bad job explaining this, and I wish I could give him a hug because this is heavy stuff to share. “Honestly, between living on an air force base with my dad or moving to a Caribbean island with my mom? The choice was pretty easy. Jamaica never felt like home to me, and I’d been a military kid since birth.”
“I get it. But… easy ?” I ask, wondering how such a decision could ever be called “easy.”
“No! Not like that.” He glances at me for a second, and I see a flash of pain in his eyes. “Not easy ! That’s the wrong word. Um… clear . The choice was clear . I knew I wanted to stay in the US. But looking into my mom’s face and telling her that? Hardest thing I ever had to do.”
“I bet. I’m sorry, Aaron.”
I’m moved by his story. What a tough choice for a little kid, to leave everything you know behind and move to a Caribbean island with your mom, or stick with what you know and stay with your dad. It was a lose-lose situation.
“My mom was really awesome about it. She hugged me and told me it was okay. She and my dad weren’t enemies or anything, thank God. Still aren’t. They talk a few times a year and always on Christmas. She understood that staying with my dad was the right decision for me. And I get to visit her every two or three years. Extra bonus? She and my stepdad moved to Montego Bay, which is amazing. It’s a huge resort town on the ocean. You’d love it.”
“Would I?”
“Come on! Everyone loves Montego Bay! Don’t you know the song? They play it on 70s on 7 all the time.”
I know the exact tune he’s talking about. I sing off-key but with gusto. “ Sing out! Whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa oa-oa oa! ”
“There you go!” He chuckles, nodding at me. “ Come sing me loud! Come sing me Montego Bay! ”
“ Whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa oa-oa oa! Whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa oa-oa oa! ”
We both laugh for a second before I turn to him, wanting to hear the rest of his story.
“So, you moved to Anchorage with your dad.”
“Yep. When I was eleven.”
“When you said that Anchorage was only four hours away from Skagway by plane, you knew exactly what you were talking about.”
He nods. “Sure did.”
“You went to middle school up there? High school?”
“Yep. And I almost enlisted,” he tells me. “I like the military life, the law and order of it. But I decided that, like my mom, I didn’t love all of the moving around. So I enrolled in the Alaskan State Trooper Academy in Sitka instead.”
“And somehow ended up in Skagway?”
He shrugs. “Joe posted an open position. I applied for it and got the job.”
“Do you miss Anchorage?”
“Sometimes,” he says. “But it’s close if I want to go home.”
“Your dad’s still there?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “By the time we moved to Anchorage, he’d been in the service for eighteen years. His CO at Elmendorf knew he was a single dad, and kind of looked after us, you know? We stayed put, and he helped my dad with ‘Early Out’ eight years later, so he could retire.”
“Oh. He retired?”
“Yeah, but he got a new job,” says Aaron. “For the FAA. His office building’s a stone’s throw from Elmendorf.”
“You see him a lot?”
“Yeah. I’ll go up there for a few days so we can hang out. Definitely around the holidays if I’m not working. Father’s Day weekend, for sure. Joe always makes sure I have it off. My dad always knows of someone coming or going to Skagway. Makes it easier to get a ride.”
“You’re close?”
“We are. You had a big family growing up. I just had him.”
I’m thoughtful for a moment. “We were both raised by our dads.”
He nods. “We have that in common, for sure.”
“He never remarried?”
Aaron laughs. “Nah. My mom was enough of a roller coaster for life. He’s happier solo. He has a bunch of friends on base and at the FAA. Goes to the Elks. Hangs out at the American Legion. Ice fishes in the winter. Hikes in the summer. He’s happy as a clam.”
James Taylor croons about a cowboy named Baby James who lives a solitary life, and it makes me think about my own father’s life without my mom or another partner.
“I never understood why my dad didn’t remarry,” I say. “I asked Harper once, and she said that Mom and Dad had a once-in-a-lifetime love, and if he couldn’t find that again, it wasn’t worth it. Well…what she actually said was, ‘Why would Dad want to eat hamburger for the rest of his life when he was accustomed to filet mignon?’ That’s Harper for you!” I shake my head and roll my eyes at her analogy. “But I always felt bad for him. All alone during the holidays. Living the rest of his life a shrine to a woman who was long gone.”
“It’s not too late for him,” Aaron points out. “Your dad’s not that old.”
“Sure, but he’s set in his ways. He’s a bachelor for life now. Like yours.”
We’re both silent for a little bit, but it’s companionable. It’s comfortable. The miles tick by in darkness with mellow 70s as our soundtrack. When Aaron speaks up again, John Denver’s singing “Annie’s Song,” which is, in my opinion, one of the most romantic songs ever written.
“You feel like people are meant live life in pairs?” he asks.
“ Meant to? No. I’m sure there are folks who prefer to be alone.”
“Fair enough. Do you think you’re meant to be with someone?”
Come let me love you. Let me give my life to you.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think I’m meant to be with someone. I want that for myself. A boyfriend. Eventually, a husband. Kids. Like you said, I’m from a big family. That’s what I know. That’s what I’m used to. That’s what I want.”
“Someday.”
I turn my head to look at Aaron’s handsome profile. We’re more than halfway to the restaurant now, and I wish time would slow down. I wish I had days and days to get to know him better, to learn every little thing about him.
“Someday,” I say, then quickly add, “After college.”
“In Anchorage.”
“In Anchorage.”
“Where my dad lives,” he says, offering me a playful grin.
“Where your dad lives.”
“I’m up there a lot, Reeve. Anchorage is my hometown.”
“I get that now.”
He glances at me. “Can I call you when I’m in town?”
My first instinct is to say no, but I hold my tongue and think about my answer before giving it.
The fact of the matter is, the boundary I’m trying to build by studying in Anchorage, isn’t actually with Skagway , it’s with my family. Heck, I want to return to Skagway someday and make my life there. But my grandparents? My dad? My older siblings? I want them to get along without me for a while. And when I return, I want them to see me as an adult who went out into the world and returned fully formed.
But Aaron? I think it’s possible that Aaron, for all that he shot me down four years ago, already sees me as a mature adult. He wouldn’t ask me out if he still saw me as a kid, right? Who Aaron is in my life is evolving. First, he was my crush. Then, he was my nemesis. Right this minute, it feels like we’re building something…and whether that something turns out to be a friendship or more, I’m not inclined to cut it off at the knees. Not now, anyway.
“Yes, you can,” I say.
“Really?” he asks, surprised.
“I mean, I’ll probably be busy with school and friends and all, but…sure. You can call me when you’re in Anchorage. Why not?”
“I’ll take it,” he says softly.
He turns into the parking lot of the Southern Lakes Resort and parks the car. When he cuts the engine, he turns to me, his features serious in the bright moonlight.
“I have to say something.”
“Okay.”
“I know we’re out tonight as friends, Reeve, but I need to be honest and tell you that I don’t see you that way. I don’t see you as a friend, and I don’t see you as a little kid, either. I know my timing sucks, but until you tell me to give up, I’m not going to.”
And that’s when I know—beyond any shadow of doubt. I don’t want him to give up. I have no idea what the future holds, but damn if I don’t hope it holds Aaron Adams somehow, someway.
“I’ve been warned,” I say, grinning at him as I unbuckle my seat belt. “Dinnertime?”
When I don’t shoot him down, his eyes sparkle, and he smiles back at me with so much hope and happiness, it squeezes my heart.
“Yeah. Dinnertime. Let’s get some chow.”
***
Carrying a very heavy, still-hot green bean and toasted onion casserole up Parker and Quinn’s icy driveway in a sleet shower means I need to be careful not to slip.
“Reeve!” calls Quinn from the front door of their house-converted-from-a-garage. “Wait there! Let me come and get the hot plate!”
“Did you run out of salt?” I grouse.
“I salted it an hour ago! Already iced over!”
My sister’s husband, Quinn, is not my favorite person on earth, owing to the way he teased Parker ruthlessly throughout elementary and middle school. But since becoming a husband and father, I have to admit, he’s growing on me.
The clink of his spiked boots cutting through the ice gets closer and closer until he’s relieved me of my burden. I follow him into the house feeling a lot more balanced.
After he takes the casserole into the kitchen, he comes back to help me with my parka, hanging it on a very full coat rack by the door.
“Reeve!” calls Parker from the family room, handing two-month-old Emily Anne to my father and coming to the door to greet me. She gives me a big hug, dusting snowflakes from my hair. “How are the roads?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Thought so. Sorry to make you drive in it.”
“I’ve driven in worse,” I tell her.
In the living room, my grandparents, father, Harper, Joe, Wren, Tanner, McKenna, Madden, Sawyer, and Ivy are all sitting around a giant coffee table laden with cocktails and appetizers. A gorgeous Christmas tree is decorated with white lights and silver tinsel in front of the sliding glass doors, which double the lights in the reflection. Christmas carols play on Bluetooth speakers, a fire crackles in the hearth, and delicious smells waft from the kitchen.
“Looks great in here, Park.”
“The tree was Quinn and Dad,” she says, her eyes full of love as she watches her husband joke around with Sawyer. “They cut it down together, and Dad came over to decorate it. I’m so glad he’s not mad at me and Quinn anymore.”
“You named your firstborn after Mom,” I say. “Hard for Dad to hold a grudge.”
But Parker barely hears me. She’s still staring at Quinn, who’s caught her eyes, and stares back at her, mouthing , I love you, baby.
Gross. “Get a room.”
“Someday you’ll understand,” says Parker in a sing-song voice. “Quinn’s the best.”
“Wasn’t always,” I mutter.
“Is now,” she counters. “What can I get you to drink? Ginger ale? Eggnog?”
“A beer.”
“Only one now, little sister,” she says, heading for the kitchen. “You’re still under twenty-one.”
Here we go , I think to myself.
There’s nowhere to sit, so I perch on the arm of the couch beside Harper, who looks up at me with a shit-eating grin.
“Something on your mind?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Something on yours ?”
“Not really, weirdo.”
Joe leans over Harper, his voice purposely low so that no one else overhears. “Mum’s the word, but we know about you and Aaron. About the date.” He mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key, which he totally negates by adding a wide smile. “Did you have fun?”
“Sure,” I say. “We’re burying the hatchet.”
“Not in his back, I hope,” says Joe.
I offer my well-meaning brother-in-law a small smile and shake my head. “We work on the show together, you know? He asked if we could be friends. I said, sure. That’s all. No big deal.”
“Oh, good,” says Harper, looking relieved. “You’re just friends.”
“Obviously,” I say. “I’m not looking for anything serious. Not with him, anyway.”
Lies. I’ve been thinking about nothing but Aaron Adams since our amazing six-hour date last night. The truth? It might break my heart if I never get the chance to have something serious with him. But no good will come from my family getting involved. So as far as they’re concerned, Aaron and I are friends, and nothing more.
“Good thinking,” says Harper. “You’ve got your whole life in front of you. Take your time. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”
“Harp,” says Joe. “Aaron’s a real good man. If Reeve was, at some point, looking for something serious, he’d be a great—”
“Shut up, Joe,” whispers Harper, shaking her head at him like he’s way out of line. “She’s way too young.”
“No, I’m not,” I protest. “I’m an adult, Harp.”
My older sister rolls her eyes at me. “You know what I mean.”
“What’re you two squabbling about?” demands Tanner from across the room.
Because Harper is a shit liar, I need to change the subject as quickly and smoothly as I can. I turn to Sawyer and Ivy with a huge smile. “I can’t believe the play is next Sunday! Are you guys excited or terrified?”
Sawyer’s tight lips warn me not to breathe a word about the ring, but he has nothing to fear. I’m a good secret keeper.
“So excited!” gushes Ivy.
“I’ve been at every rehearsal,” I say, “and these two are killing it. It’s going to be even better than Wuthering Heights ! Who here has read Rebecca ? The original book?”
In a unanimous response that would make the first Emily Anne proud, it turns out that everyone in the room, except Wren, Madden, and Emily Anne, has read the book. Everyone starts talking about the two Mrs. de Winters, and for now, at least, the subject of Reeve and Aaron is off the hot plate.
I briefly consider finding a way to tell them all about college—that I’m leaving for Anchorage in less than three weeks—but I can’t bring myself to ruin Parker’s first family dinner party by upsetting everyone.
Surely, there’ll be a better time soon , I think, telling myself to enjoy the here and now before everything changes.