Chapter Twenty-Three
“Where have you two been?”
Luna raises one eyebrow as we walk up to the van still giggling. She hasn’t seen us like this yet, the Ackerman sisters on
the same side of some joke or entertainment, so she is right to be suspicious.
“We took a walk, down the road,” I say before my sister, delighted by our good fortune in surviving a moose vs. woman experience,
blurts out the truth.
“We just came from there,” Mimi adds. “We must have missed you.”
“We saw you. Picking those beautiful flowers,” Lily says gesturing to the small bouquet of wildflowers in Mimi’s hand. “Your
heads were down.” Man, she’s fast on her feet. No wonder Lily is such a great salesperson.
Time to change the subject. “I’m starving. Did they start lunch without us?”
“No,” says Luna. “Brick and Jace are finishing setting up. It took them a while to sort out the van and call their friend
to come pick us up. They’ve found a pretty spot over there. We came back to get our collapsible drinking cup to make a vase
for these flowers.”
When the four of us walk into the meadow where everyone is sitting on folding camp chairs with Heidi’s lunch spread out on a plaid blanket between them, Dane hops to his feet. “Ladies, welcome,” he says with a slight theatrical bow.
He may be talking to all of us, but he is looking only at Lily. He opens his arms, gesturing to an empty seat next to him.
Instead, Lily takes the chair across the picnic blanket next to Xavier. The actor acts crestfallen. Lily is wrong about him.
“You have to say something to him,” I’d told her as we’d walked back to the van through the tall grass.
“You got that all wrong. I told you. Dane knows it was a one-time thing.”
“Does he?”
“He’s going back to LA. The land of beautiful women. And I was drunk and mad. And you weren’t there to stop me.”
“Oh, this is on me now?” I don’t say that I’d been trying to stop her all week. I don’t say that she’s done nothing but tell
me to back off—using much saltier wording. My sister wanted to play with fire. Now she’s got third-degree burns and I’ve run
out of salve and bandages. “Listen, not that it’s any of my business—”
“Since when?”
“You should talk to him. I might be wrong about what he knows and doesn’t know, Lil, but you need to clear the air. We just said we were going to enjoy the last few days. That means you and me. Not you, me, and pining Just Normal Dane.”
“Can you do it for me?”
“Do what?”
“Talk to him. You are so much better at this stuff than me. Remember Randy McGovern?”
“From eighth grade?” I was twenty-one years old, barely out of college, about to start my job at the construction company where I’d meet Tim.
Thirteen-year-old Lily had cried about the boy who wouldn’t take the hint.
Then Randy McGovern cried when I hit him with the truth bomb, because Lily Ackerman was the love of his life.
Then I cried because I felt so badly for this poor, skinny, mop-headed boy whose heart I broke for my sister.
It wasn’t the last time I’d intervened on Lily’s behalf. But if I’m going to start accepting Alaska’s gifts, as Brick has
suggested, I need to start with learning how to use my voice. “I’m sorry, hon,” I’d said. “I’m not going to tell a grown man
you think he has cooties. You need do it yourself. You’ve got to solve this. It is small potatoes compared to what you have
to face at home.”
Despite my spiel only moments ago, I see my sister across the picnic blanket, chatting with the teen and avoiding real life,
and start to cave. It’s second nature to me, as normal as breathing, to stand in front of Lily, knocking down her obstacles;
snowplowing, as I explained to Brick. I am this close to giving in and doing it again, of sitting next to Dane in that empty
chair and telling him we need to chat, when Luna saves me. Inadvertently or not.
“Bridget, come join us by this creek. We are going to do some bird-watching while we eat. Mimi saw a red-throated loon on
the water. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Very,” I say, gratefully. I grab one of Heidi’s world-famous sandwiches and a bag of chips and follow my friends the few
feet to the creek. “Man, I’m going to miss Heidi,” I say after peeling back the wax paper and taking a bite of the most delicious
chicken salad I’ve ever eaten. Running from a moose sure builds an appetite.
“Hey, Big,” says Lily, who has followed us to the water, Heidi’s sandwich held up in front of her. “Remember the chicken salad
you made for mom’s sixty-fifth birthday that made everyone sick for three days? This is way better.”
I shake my head. “Mom wrote me out of her will after that.” We both laugh as Luna and Mimi shake their heads at us incredulously.
It’s a relief to have things back to normal.
When Lily and Mimi stand and walk to the creek’s edge to get closer the loon, Luna nudges me with her toe. “You two seem aligned again.”
“Well, she had to do something really stupid before she realized she’d taken things too far. But I think we’re okay now.”
She lowers her voice and steals a glance back. “Yes, we know all about that.”
“Everyone? Oh God, I was hoping it wouldn’t get around.”
“Well, it’s a small group. What’s that expression, ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?” I think it’s quite the opposite. Familiarity
breeds family. We care about each other, we merry band of travelers, but there is inevitably going to be the chitter-chatter.
Human nature, I suppose.”
As always, I must provide protective cover for my sister. “She is going through a lot. At home.”
“No judgment. We are all only seeing the tip of the iceberg, aren’t we?”
I look over at the circle of picnickers, each with a reason for being here beyond enjoying the great outdoors. “I couldn’t
agree more.”
Luna pats my hand and then tucks a curl behind her ear. I see something I hadn’t noticed before, a tiny fox tattoo at her
hairline.
“I like that,” I say, and she cocks her head, confused, until she realizes what I’m pointing at.
“Oh, my fox. Yes, thank you. He always sits by my ear so I can hear what he’s whispering to me. Foxes are very wise.”
“I’ve been seeing foxes since I’ve been here,” I tell her. I share my encounters, my moments where seeing the animal slowed
my breathing and gave me focus.
“He’s trying to tell you something,” Luna says with such certainty.
“I’m no Dr. Dolittle, animals don’t talk to me. My daughter, Annie, on the other hand. My house would have become Noah’s Ark if she’d had her way growing up.”
“You need to listen harder. A fox doesn’t present itself to just anyone.”
“I’m flattered, but I doubt it was even the same animal. The first one was miles from the second.”
Luna shakes her head like a patient schoolteacher with an uncooperative child. “It doesn’t have to be the same fox; how would
that work?”
“I thought it was a mystical creature—”
“Any animal who presents itself to you in the way you describe most certainly wants to share something important with you.
I’m sure you think this is silly, but it’s not. The fox is a creature of silent wisdom, helping you to make meaningful decisions
and changes in your life. It can prevent you from taking the wrong path in your relationships and assists you in adapting
quickly to new ways of thinking—aid you in being more confident in your choices.”
My eyes are hot; I try to blink away the coming tears, but they run down my face regardless. That’s what Brick was trying
to say last night. Now Luna is showing me I have support, even if it is from a cunning woodland creature. I wipe my eyes with
the back of my hand. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m exhausted.”
“Accept what he wants to tell you. You’ll be surprised at what strength and energy that gives you.” She holds out her hand
and shows me the many rings she’s wearing. One is made of a delicate silver with the head and tail of a fox wrapping around
her finger; Luna twists it off and gives it to me. “Take this. It will remind you to keep your heart and mind open.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I insist.” She presses the ring into my palm.
“Are you sure you aren’t my wise, guiding animal?” I ask.
“You never know,” she says with a playful smile. “I could be your fox. Have you ever seen us both in the same place?”
We laugh, and I place the ring on my finger. It’s a perfect fit.
Brick stands and starts heading back to the van. Not time to go already. I’m having such a lovely afternoon, now that Lily
and I have survived, sitting here cross-legged on the ground, eating a chicken salad sandwich that would have kept me in my
mother’s will had I known the recipe, and talking and laughing with our new friends.
Instead of “pack up, folks,” Brick says, “I almost forgot! Heidi sent along some beer to go with our lunch.” He opens the
back of the soon-to-be-abandoned van and pulls out a cooler. “Cokes too.”
I raise my hand. “Coke for me, please.” I’m done with drinking for the foreseeable future. My last experience was not my finest
hour.
Brick hands me a soda and then one to Xavier and Dane. Dane turns the can around in his hand and asks, “Hey, how ’bout a big-boy
drink for me today?”
Everyone looks to Dane, then to Brick. Except for Lily, who’s got her eyes on the ground. What happens when someone fresh
out of rehab asks for a drink? Is Dane’s sobriety our tour guide’s responsibility? I have the strongest urge to stand up and
step in. After all, there is a possibility my sister has something to do with this. Here we go again, clean up in aisle nine.
Then it dawns on me, my sister should be the one with the bucket. Her mess, her mop up.
Before anyone can intervene, Dane glances at Lily and then flashes a Hollywood smile at Brick. “Ah, just kidding. Gotta keep
a clear head for more moose sightings, right?”
He’s not a great actor, but I’m sure everyone appreciates the effort. If they are like me, knowing what went on between my
sister and him, they are all a little uncomfortable as it is.