Chapter Twenty #2
“But she’s the reason,” I say, and then I scooch my stool a little closer to him. He smells like whatever heat smells like.
Whiskey, moss, wood, smoke. “Can I tell you a secret?” He leans in. “I don’t even want to be here. I came under duress.”
“Duress, huh? I’ll try not to take that personally.”
My drink arrives. I throw my shot back. The room starts to spin, but I hang on tight.
“Please don’t,” I say, pushing my stool back to its original spot. “It’s not you, it’s me. Or it’s my sister. She can be very
convincing when she wants to be.”
“That tracks.”
“Ah, yes. You’ve seen her in action. She has an effect on people.
Seriously,” I say, wagging a finger, “I’m always watching out for her.
Lily is my, well, in many ways, Lily is my responsibility.
And her hus— well, she’s had some trouble, and I want to be there for her.
I guess, there is here. Alaska. How’s that for a convoluted answer? ”
“It sounds like an answer from someone who loves her sister.”
I snort. Good God, I’m batting a thousand. “Well, I am protective of her, yes. Like the adult in the room, sure. Frustrated,
often. Exasperated, absolutely.”
“Sounds like love to me.”
I run my finger around the rim of my empty shot glass. This man has a way of pointing things out you should have seen all
along. The facts are obvious.
“Yes, I guess it does,” I say.
Brick slaps his hand on the bar. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the matter at hand. Bridget, sister extraordinaire.
How can Alaska serve you? The Last Frontier will give you endless gifts if you let it.”
“I’m better at giving the gifts.”
He waits for a beat. “Okay,” he says. “Time for you to receive one, from me. Permission to accept what the universe has in
store for you.”
I laugh, but he’s not being funny. He smiles, and the crinkles around his eyes reach down into his ruddy cheeks. I sit up
straighter, trying through my dizziness to take his comment to heart. “How do I do that? How do I turn it off, this guardianship
I’ve been assigned? You know who’s a genius at that? Lily. I’ve always said I want a day, one day, of Lily’s life—a me-first
kind of day.”
“Sounds like you came to the perfect place for that.”
“No, I came here to support my sister.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, I get the impression Lily’s doing fine.”
I don’t dare tell him about the octopus in my bed and the tears on my shoulder for fear of it all spilling out.
I did promise Lily I’d keep it to myself.
I can be angry, furious even, but I won’t betray her.
Although, Brick is not wrong. Lily is doing her thing, and God knows what’s coming next after tonight’s performance.
The fact of the matter is Lily is doing fine.
Fine enough for me to step away, have that one day in my sister’s shoes, if only briefly.
The problem with the sun not setting until close to midnight is that it’s hard to know when you’ve overstayed your welcome.
I am ready to order another drink, when Brick makes a scribbling sign in the air to the bartender and mouths, “My tab.”
“No, no, no,” I insist. “It’s on me. I should add in extra for the therapy.” I reach around to the back of my barstool to
grab my purse only to realize not only don’t I have my phone, but my purse is in the cabin as well. “Oh shit.” I groan. “That’s
embarrassing.”
“You’ll get it next time.”
He’s joking. The trip is half over. If I need our tour guide to rescue me again, I’ll have bigger problems than a juvenile
delinquent forty-one-year-old sister. Not that I don’t love the idea of hanging out with this guy one-on-one, this kind soul
who wants to talk about me, without an agenda or interruption. He makes me stop and think about myself—which is rare. I’m
grateful—and, also, have no clue how to handle it.
We walk back, leaving Heidi’s jeep. “She wanted it back tonight anyway. She’s got supplies coming in on a sunrise flight—sunrise being a turn of phrase, since the actual sunrise these days is around three a.m.”
“What about beasts? Do you have any frying pans for us to carry? Can we raid Heidi’s kitchen?”
I laugh, but Brick makes a serious face. “My sister would be worse than any beast out here if we touched any of her cookware.” Then he opens his jacket and shows me a pistol in a holster under his arm. “We’ll be okay.”
It still shocks me to see people carrying guns. To realize that I was sitting so close to a weapon like that, unaware of its
presence while I tossed back beer and shots and laughed at jokes. It wasn’t something you saw every day in the strip malls
and doctors’ offices and pottery classes of New Jersey.
“Wow,” I say as he takes me by the elbow and guides me down the porch steps of the bar. “I’ve never been on a date with a
guy who’s packing before.”
I freeze midstep. My hand flies into the air as if I could grab those words before they landed in his ears. Too late for that,
that same hand quickly covers my mouth. Closing the barn door as the horse gallops off wildly. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean that!
Oh shit. I mean, I’m so sorry, that was so inappropriate. I’m drunk. Ignore me, please, please ignore me.”
“You’re fine,” he says. He must be used to sad, middle-aged tourists acting like idiots.
“I hope you don’t think I’m throwing myself at you,” I insist, and then as the cherry on top, I lose my footing on the last
step and stumble, my arms twirling like whirlybirds.
Brick grabs me before I hit the ground. He pulls me to my feet, and I lean against him to find my balance. His chest is solid
and warm. The holster of his gun presses against my ribs. There’s that smell of moss and wood again.
“Tim!” I push against him and stumble back. I’m not Lily. I’m Bridget, boring, dependable Bridget who never—
“Excuse me? Bridget, are you—”
“No, I mean yes, I mean, I need to call my husband. Tim. I told him I would check in today, but the service, you know there’s no service here, can you do something about that?
I mean, people need to let their loved ones know if they’ve been eaten by a bear, I mean, oh shit.
I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m drunk. I don’t drink. ”
“It’s all fine,” he says with an amused smile on his face. That just makes me feel worse.
“I guess I am so mad at my sister . . . I had too much . . . I would never . . . she’s pretending she’s not married, and I
guess I just . . . Oh shit, you didn’t hear me say that. I was not supposed to say that. About her being married. Dammit,
I guess I just did.”
“Really, it’s fine,” says Brick. “Now I understand why you’re so upset about Lily.”
“Yeah, she’s married,” I say. “But it’s over. He cheated on her. That’s why we’re here. I guess you could say we’re running
away from it all. Or she is. Of course, tonight wasn’t part of the plan. I tried to talk to her so many times since we’ve
been here, I saw this coming, the flirting and the giggling and the heads together, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Clearly.”
“Seems like you’ve done all you could. The rest is up to her. I have a good feeling she’ll be fine, especially with you as
her support system.”
“So, what you’re saying is stop snowplow sistering.”
“Snowplow?”
“You know, pushing someone’s problems out of the way for them? Never mind, it’s a Jersey thing. Or a mom thing. Totally a
first world problem. What you’re basically saying is I should back off.”
Brick shoves his hands in his pockets as we walk along the road to camp. “I didn’t say that, specifically. I’m saying we have
a few days left, and there is plenty to receive from the wilderness if you have the space to accept it.”
“So, let go of something to have room for something else?”
He laughs at my interpretation of his message. “Yes, something like that,” he says.
When we get back to camp, the fire is no longer smoldering, the lights in the barn are out, and the door is shut. We startle a rabbit who thought everyone had gone to bed, and as it darts off, we hear an owl hoot in the woods. I take a deep breath.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say, laying a hand on Brick’s arm, but pull it back quickly. Not going there again. “I’m sorry.
Again. No more trouble from me.”
Brick holds up his palm up. “No trouble at all.”
“I’ve got to go to bed,” I say. “I promise, normal Bridget will be back in the morning to replace this ridiculous one.”
“I had fun, Bridget. And don’t forget what I said. Gifts await.”
“For now, I’m worried about what gift awaits me in my cabin.”
This time when I turn the knob, it clicks easily. I still open the door slowly, afraid of what I’ll see. Fortunately, Lily
is alone in bed, sleeping with her back to me, her ribcage rising and falling with each deep breath. Angelic, almost, if you
didn’t count the adultery part.
Had the situation been reversed, which is a laugh, Lily would have been all over me, shaking me out of my sleep, sharp knees
in my back as she bounced on my bed, demanding I spill it all. I don’t have it in me; I don’t want to hear it, not with a
belly full of liquor and a head spinning over my performance during this evening. I’ll deal with my sister tomorrow.