14. 14
14
Bo
W e eat pizza and open one of the bottles of wine Spencer brought.
It was his idea to avoid a serious conversation with Hettie tonight. “She’ll be exhausted,” he said as he drove me back to the castle. “She flew across Laandia twice today, and that’s before she was kidnapped and taken to the castle.”
“I didn’t kidnap her,” I muttered as the car pulled up to the door of the castle.
“Well, let’s have a friendly catch-up before things get heavy so she won’t think that. Besides, I haven’t seen her in years. I miss her.”
“I thought you were here to see Abigail.”
Spencer shrugged. “Her too. I can’t believe they just showed up without warning.”
“They would have warned someone, just not us.” While Spencer may have his finger on all things in Battle Harbour, it’s clear secrets can be kept from him.
There would have been fewer secrets if I had given him the okay to check on Hettie all those years ago.
Yet another regret to add to the pile .
When Tema gets back into the room, I’m amazed how excited she is to see us. I may be her father, but she doesn’t know me. And Spencer is a stranger.
But the little girl seems overjoyed at the company, which makes me wonder if Hettie keeps things quiet in Victoria. I know nothing of what their life is like—and I’d really like to find out.
But Spencer has never steered me wrong, so I take his advice and we keep it casual.
Though I’m not sure if Tema understands casual.
She peppers me with questions about living in a castle and the Viking ancestors, if there’s a dungeon and what would be the best way to punish the prisoners. Apparently, Kate got a bit graphic on their tour earlier.
Tema demands all the demographic information about the town from Spencer, and wants to know many people in the country call my father the king.
Along with the questions, she tells us all about her friends from home, her baseball team, and the plot of her favourite book, all the while shoveling two slices of mushroom pizza into her mouth.
She’s adorable, but exhausting.
Hettie takes it all in stride, distracting Tema when she gets too personal, making sure she has milk instead of juice, and eventually, settling her on the couch with her iPad and an episode of a kid show.
Within ten minutes, she’s out cold.
“It’s been a long day for her,” Abigail says with an affectionate smile .
Once again, I realize how amazing mothers are because Hettie doesn’t even struggle as she picks up the sleeping child without waking her. “I’ll put her to bed.”
“Wait,” I say without thinking and stand up. “Let me. Please.” At Hettie’s nod, I reach out and take her into my arms.
She feels soft. Pliable. But she’s also a dead weight, like one of the logs I have to prop on my shoulder to carry. I have no idea how Hettie lugs her around.
But it feels… nice. Like Tema belongs in my arms.
I rest my cheek on the top of her head as I carry her into the bedroom.
Hettie goes before me and pulls down the covers. “Just put her here,” she instructs, patting the pillow.
“You don’t have to change her? Or—I don’t know—brush her teeth?”
“She’ll be okay for one night. I don’t want to wake her. I’m sure she’ll be up early.”
“Yeah.” I gently set her down, pushing a tendril of hair off her cheek. Tema’s eyes stay closed, even as I pull the blankets up to her chin. “She’s really asleep.”
“She’s always been a good sleeper.”
“Yeah.” It’s the only thing I can say because I have no idea what kind of sleeper Tema is, or when she sleeps. What does getting up early mean to her? Six a.m. or ten? I don’t even know where she sleeps.
I watch as Hettie kisses her forehead and backs away from the bed.
“I’m sorry I never told you.” Hettie’s gaze is fixed on Tema so I’m not sure if she’s apologizing to me or our daughter.
“Yeah.” Because what else am I supposed to say?
“It’s just that—”
“We don’t need to talk about it now,” I interrupt. The room—Hettie’s bedroom—is dark and warm from the fire. The hiss from a white-noise machine masks the sound of Tema’s breathing. She looks so tiny in the bed.
“I thought you’d want to know.”
“I do. I want to know why, and how, and everything about her. I want to know it all. But not tonight. It’s been… a lot.”
“It’s been a long day. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I definitely didn’t plan on ending up here.” Hettie spreads her hands. “I thought you would have reacted… differently.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Get advice from your brothers?” she asks with a smile.
I shrug. “And Spencer.”
“I missed him.” Her gaze meets mine as my heart gives a spasm of envy until— “And you, too,” she confesses.
“Hettie…”
“No, I know.” She shakes her head, The braids are gone and she’s piled her hair in a bun on the top of her head. It wobbles with the motion. “We can talk about it later. I just… I wanted you to know.”
Does that make it better or worse?
I’m not sure but, with a last glance at the sleeping Tema, I follow her into the other room, where Spencer and Abigail fall silent. It’s obvious they were talking about us.
I’d be talking about us too.
Despite what I said, it takes all I’ve got not to demand answers of Hettie as I sit down and grab another slice of pizza. Spencer refills my glass of wine and opens another bottle. I follow Spencer’s lead, letting him tell the girls all the latest town gossip, including the reunion he’s had with his half-sisters. Abigail counters with news of her family.
I don’t mention mine, nor does Hettie.
But I do talk about the lumberjack competitions I entered—and usually won.
“We watched you on TV,” Abigail tells me, looking comfortable on the couch beside Spencer. The two of them aren’t touching, but it looks like that would be easy to change. “I have to admit, I was very surprised when Hettie found out. The first couple times, we watched on YouTube—”
“You watched me compete?” Buck Marsden got me into the competitions when he was frustrated with, what he called my inability to get a life. It had been a year after Hettie left, and I knew I was floundering, only I didn’t know what to do about it. My brothers tried, but they were grieving, themselves. I never told my father how bad it was for me, too ashamed that I had never told him I was responsible for my mother’s death.
I’ve never admitted it, but Buck saved me; he and the competitions that let me unleash my anger and pain on helpless logs.
Because I stay in the background of my family, I sometimes forget that I’m a public figure, and for some reason, people find my life interesting. Even so, it feels strange to know that while I was missing her so much, Hettie was watching me chop and saw… and win.
I won quite a few of the competitions and eventually used my winnings and the money I earned from sponsors to open the first of my wildlife reserves. I set up one for bears about an hour outside Wabush, and last year opened one for wolves on the edge of the National Park.
Taking care of animals helped as well.
“Why did you stop?” Hettie asks. “You were…”
“Incredible?” Abigail offers.
“You should see him in real life,” Spencer says, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a while. “Those chips really fly when he’s got an ax in his hand.”
“You and your brothers really like weapons,” Abigail notes. “Odin and his sword-play, you and the axes; Kalle with his curling—”
I give a bark of laughter. “I would think a baseball bat would be a better weapon. Or a hockey stick.”
“Are you kidding? Remember I curled when I was younger, and those rocks really pack a punch. If you could pick one up and throw it—”
“That’s a big if, ” Hettie reminds her. “You took me curling a few times and I could barely move the thing.”
“Kalle could throw one,” Abigail says with such certainty—and more than a little admiration—that Spencer leans back to look at her.
“It kind of sounds like you might have a thing for the man with a broom.” He raises his eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“That I had a crush on Prince Kalle for most of my life?” Abigail replies. “Well—duh.”
“You had a crush on Kalle?” Spencer cries, and Hettie shushes him while trying not to laugh too loudly.
“He was my celebrity crush.” Abigail pats Spencer’s knee, her hand lingering for a moment too long. “You were my real thing. ”
“I—really?”
I’ve never seen Spencer at such a loss for words and I laugh along with Hettie. The two of us would talk about how Abigail had a thing for Spencer and how oblivious Spencer was about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings for Abigail, but I know it was the shadow of my sister who kept pushing any other woman into the background.
“Just think of how much fun we could have had,” Abigail says lightly.
“I had no clue,” Spencer marvels with an expression of disappointment.
“You’re a smart boy,” Hettie begins.
“But so very stupid,” Abigail finishes, and I get the feeling this isn’t the first time the subject has come up between them.
I wonder what they said about me.
“So, is there anyone over there in Canada that you want to tell me about?” Spencer prompts. He shifts on the couch, throwing his arm along the back, his fingers only inches from Abigail’s shoulder.
I glance at Hettie to see if she’s watching, only to find her looking back at me.
It’s like someone has flicked a lighter inside my chest.
Hettie is beautiful, even more now than when I married her. When I look at Tema, I see my sister, but now I notice how much Tema looks like her mother. The same heart-shaped face, delicate nose and chin. A mouth that curves up, always ready to smile.
I would very much like to kiss Hettie’s mouth again.
Instead, I wrench my gaze away from her. Until we have a conversation, there will be none of that.
I flick my gaze back to her, to find her still watching me .
“No one worth mentioning,” Abigail says to Spencer. “At least, no one who would keep me there.”
“Keep you there?” My tone is sharp with eagerness as I turn back to Hettie. “Are you thinking of coming back here?”
Hettie looks at Abigail and it’s like the two of them are having another silent conversation. I always hated when they did that. “I love British Columbia,” Abigail finally says. “But sometimes I miss the snow of Laandia.”
In unison, we all turn to the window where, outside, the snow has been softly falling for the entire evening.
“You’re not planning on driving back into town tonight, are you, Spence?” she asks with a gleam in her eyes.
Despite everything that isn’t said, it’s still fun to be together. The four of us spent so much time together in our youth that being back with Hettie and Abigail feels good. It feels right.
It also feels like I should have my arm around her, or her hand resting on my thigh, but we don’t touch.
It takes a lot not to touch her.
But there is someone else in the picture for her. Hettie came back to ask for a divorce, so it must be serious.
Hettie is serious with someone who isn’t me.
It’s really hard not to press her for more information.
Instead, I sit and listen and laugh, all the while racking my brain to come up with a way to get rid of this other guy.
In a nice way.
Because Gunnar is right—my best option for keeping Tema in my life is to make sure Hettie doesn’t leave. And to do that, I need to give her a better reason to stay here with me than go back to what she might have waiting for her in Victoria.
I can do that.