Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

TIMBER

Today is officially the worst day of my life.

The district I work for assigned me an additional role overnight, doubling my workload without any increase in pay. My responsibilities now include absorbing the tasks of a reassigned diagnostician, leaving me buried under paperwork and overwhelmed by the demands. Quitting on the spot isn't an option. I’m under contract, and breaking it means I’d be barred from working in the state for at least a year. Who knows what other consequences would come of it. The thought of losing my job security is terrifying, but so is the idea of staying in this untenable situation.

As I sit at my desk, I start to think through my options. If I quit, I’d have to find a teaching position in another district, which might be difficult. The uncertainty of starting over again is daunting. But on the other hand, quitting would free me from this suffocating job and give me the opportunity to go back to Kane and Hailey.

My mind races as I weigh the risks and benefits. If I stay, I’ll be miserable, trapped in a job that’s draining the life out of me. If I leave, I’ll have to navigate the challenges of finding a new job, but I’d have the chance to rebuild my life with people I love.

Overwhelmed, I push away from my desk and throw up my arms. “Okay, universe, give me a sign!” I say out loud, the desperation clear in my voice. I need guidance, something to point me in the right direction.

I wait, half-expecting some magical solution for what I should do, but the room remains silent, the weight of my decision still pressing down on me.

The drive home is unbearable. It’s the hottest day on record in Phoenix, and my car's air conditioner chooses today to give out. By the time I get to my mother’s old house, I’m drenched in sweat, and my patience is wearing thin.

The air conditioner in the house is still broken, of course. The heat inside is suffocating, and the only relief is a lukewarm glass of water from the tap. I collapse onto the old, creaky couch, the weight of everything bearing down on me.

I miss Kane so much it hurts. We haven’t talked since he told me to decide. Today, I’m deciding without a sign. I’ll call a real estate agent and set the ball in motion to sell the house. It’s time to move on.

As I drag myself up to check the mail that’s come through the slot, I notice a single piece lying on the floor. It catches my eye immediately—a postcard. I pick it up, the memories flooding back. This postcard looks like the one that brought me to Alaska in the first place, but there’s something different about it.

I turn it over, and my breath catches. The handwriting is different, but the message is similar.

“Timber, please come back. We love you. We need you. We can work anything out when we're together.”

It’s signed by Kane, with a little stick-figure drawing of three people smiling—him, me, and Hailey.

Tears spring to my eyes as I clutch the postcard to my chest. I realize I didn’t need a sign because I had already decided. But the universe gave me one anyway.

I glance at the clock. It’s early enough to arrange for a flight out and to dial a real estate agent.

I call an agent first. “Hi, my name is Timber Moore. I need to sell my house. I’ll take whatever you can get. I’m leaving for Alaska.” We work on the logistics, and once it’s all settled, I hang up.

Immediately, a weight lifts from my shoulders. I start packing, feeling lighter with every box I fill. The oppressive heat seems to fade into the background as the excitement of returning takes over.

I call Kane, but when I do, I get a message saying he’s out of range until Thursday and to leave a message. I debate whether to tell him or not, my finger hovering over the end call button. Finally, I decide to show up and surprise him.

As I gaze around the house, a swirl of nostalgia and relief washes over me. This place is filled with moments of laughter and tears. Yet, it's time to step forward, to craft new memories with the people I cherish.

At the airport, I sit at my laptop, unable to resist the urge to look up Port Promise again. I’m reliving everything from before—searching for images, reading about the town. It’s a comfort, a way to reconnect with what I left behind.

As I scroll through the town’s website, something catches my eye. A job posting.

Job Posting: Schoolteacher Wanted

Position: Schoolteacher (Not a Camp Counselor)

Requirements:

· Must be named Timber

· Must love my brother Kane

· Must love my niece Hailey

Application Process:

· Apply in person

Joy fills me, a laugh bubbling up from deep inside. Tears of happiness blur my vision as I stare at the screen, rereading the post over and over.

I hear the announcement for boarding, and excitement surges through me. This is it. I’m going back to where I belong, to the people who love me and need me. I stand up, clutching the postcard tightly in my hand, and make my way to the boarding line.

It’s time to go home.

About twelve hours later, I’m back in the tiny plane, while Hank scrapes the peak with the pontoon floats. The plane bucks wildly, but this time, instead of gripping the seat in terror, I laugh. The roar of the engine is the same, the turbulence just as jarring, but I feel steady.

“Back for more? Couldn’t get enough of us, huh?” Hank shouts over the engine’s roar, offering me his familiar grin.

“You bet! This time, I’m ready for anything!” I shout back, my excitement rising as I see the port come into view.

Hank’s hands are steady on the controls, and instead of praying, I marvel at how far I’ve come.

“Alright, brace yourself!” His tone is still casual, but now it seems like an old friend’s reassurance.

“If you get me there in one piece, I’ll let you officiate at my future wedding!” I shout.

“Challenge accepted.” The plane splashes down and skitters across the water, and I ride the bumps like a pro. We glide to a stop, and I step out with a confidence I never had before. This time, I’m not just following breadcrumbs. I’m blazing my own trail. And I can’t wait to see where it leads.

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