by Karen Harper
Suze looked up from her book, her spoon loaded with shredded wheat and cut strawberries halfway to her mouth. “Oh, didn’t hear you,” she said. “Join us. We’re both so tired lately we haven’t been talking much.”
She put her book aside as Alex sat across from them and read the title of it upside down. “Into the Wild,” she said. “I’ve heard of that.”
“It was a movie, too,” Meg put in. “Maybe you saw it. Not much time to read anymore with Chip growing up. Maybe when he goes to school in a couple of weeks.”
“If I recall,” Alex said, “the story takes place in Alaska. The true story of a guy who came here fleeing from civilization. He lived off the land, foraging and hunting.”
“Right. And he died,” Suze said, handing Alex a plate of Danish, though she took the sugarless cereal instead. “It’s a sad story, so I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone, but it does give a good warning about how ‘the wilds can win.’ Turns out he made himself sick by eating what they call Eskimo potatoes. The tubers are good—they even grow around here—but the seeds can make you sick fast. He got very weak and couldn’t even get out of bed.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen pictures of those so-called potatoes in a book at the store,” Alex told her. “Quinn says there are good things to eat in the wilds, but you have to know what you’re doing.”
“Hmm,” Suze shot back with a smile. “What else does Quinn say?”
“Don’t give me that look. He said I can join their beginner tracker group at two today just to observe, so I hope you won’t mind if I close the store a little early.”
Meg said, “I volunteer Chip to take care of Spenser. Anything to distract him from thinking his father is going to parachute in here—his ghost at least. But speaking of guilt, Suze said you had something to explain about—well, about that. About your feeling guilty for something? For wanting to come here after we hadn’t heard from you for so long?”
Suze bumped her elbow. “I told her not to mention that early in the morning. But we did wonder how you kind of disappeared for years after the three of us had been so close, but we just figured you had another life to live.”
Alex stopped pouring milk on her cereal and put the pitcher down. “I—yes, I do have another life to live in a way. You two were so great together, finishing each other’s thoughts, having fun...all of that.”
“Oh, and you were an only child,” Meg said.
“Not in the beginning. You see, I’m a twin, too—that is, I was.”
They both stared at her. She fought to find the right words.
“Your mother was pregnant with twins but miscarried one?” Meg asked.
“The pregnancy—for my sister—didn’t even get as far as a miscarriage. I’ll bet you’ve never heard of ‘vanishing twin syndrome.’ I hadn’t, either, until I found something my mother had written years before that mentioned her two daughters, Alexandra and Allison, whom Mother nicknamed Alex and Allie. I was twelve when I stumbled on that, and she explained. See, she was pregnant with twins to begin with, but during a later ultrasound, they found only one fetus remaining—me.”
Meg gasped. “I had a sonogram with Chip. We could even tell early it was a boy.”
Suze put her hand on her sister’s arm. “So what happened? How did Allie vanish?”
“It’s fairly rare—a phenomenon, my mother was told at the time. They still don’t exactly know. Usually in the first trimester, one twin becomes what they call less viable and is absorbed by the placenta or more often by the other twin. The lost twin is—is kind of flattened by the living twin, who is called the twin survivor...”
Alex’s voice trailed off. Gripping her knee under the table with one hand, she held up her other hand to stop the rush of condolences she saw coming.
“And being the vanishing twin’s survivor, however much my parents tried to comfort me and to explain it was not my fault, I experienced full-blown survivor’s guilt. You know, like when someone escapes a tragedy where a sibling or family member they were with dies, or like soldiers in battle who lose their buddies. And so, seeing how great you two were together, I just—I just avoided seeing you for years, even had some counseling in my teens. I threw myself into my work, focused on loving and helping animals—and, I guess, threw myself at the first man who showed interest. I suppose I wanted to be loved—forgiven. So, now you know, and I’m glad you do.”
The three of them held hands across the table. Meg whispered, “I understand heartbreak and loss, even of such a different kind.”
“Sometimes,” Alex whispered, “I think she’s still with me. Surely she would look like me—the way you two resemble each other. I guess I took that idea of absorbing my twin to heart. In a way, I feel she is living through me, and I want to do right by her.”
The two of them looked at each other and she probably knew what they were both thinking. That she sounded a bit over the edge? That she was making a mistake to care too much for Quinn too fast after what she’d been through with Lyle?
“Well,” Suze said, “this book might be called Into the Wild, but life itself is about going into the wilds, one way or the other. Meg had no idea she could lose the love of her life. I figured I’d find Mr. Right and live happily ever with him and our kids, but where the hell is he?”
“I can’t thank you both enough for having me here, for propping me up.”
“Just you be careful in the wilds today,” Meg insisted, “even though it will be close to the camp, and Quinn and his staff will be there. You know, I was never one bit afraid to fly with Ryan, and Chip loved it, too, but I never imagined my big, strong man would crash...
“Sorry to go off the deep end again,” she said, and got up from the table. “Don’t mind me—just takes time. Like a lifetime, I bet. I’m going to see if Chip’s up.”
She hurried away down the hall. Suze loosed Alex’s hand, and they sat back in their chairs. “Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?” Suze said with a sigh.
“I don’t know,” Alex whispered. “I have realized lately that I have not been in love, just in want. And stupid to not get out of a dangerous situation sooner. Suze, I had a dream last night that I made those scratches on the wall in frustration and anger because I screwed up my life. In a way, I’m starting over here in your lovely Alaska, into the wilds, but I plan to come out alive and happy, safe and sane.”
“Right now, that’s what my artwork does for me, keeps me sane. Later, let me show you some of my paintings I have stored out in the shed. Josh always hints they’re in his way. But I caught him looking at some of the scenic ones of the mountains and Falls Lake, admiring them, I think.”
“I’d love to see them. I was always in awe of your Christmas card art.”
“It helps me to draw and paint, but I want something more. A man. A family. And family is one reason why I’m glad you are here, even if seeing Meg and me makes you miss your sister, Allie. No wonder you seemed to understand Chip’s guilt—and maybe relate to Quinn’s, too, right? He’s tried to help Chip. I guess he could relate to him because he lost his own father and wasn’t there to help—though, of course, he would probably have been killed, too.”
Alex nodded. But Quinn seemed to be so stable and steady. So strong, and how she envied and wanted that. But she had to be careful she didn’t want him too much.
* * *
Alex only had two customers at the shop that morning, so she got busy. Since her product sales were going surprisingly well here and she had only brought so much stock, she phoned her supplier of jars, tubes and labels to order more. He agreed to look for the new packaging design she’d email him shortly. He was impressed she had an artist friend to design her labels, since Suze had said she’d be honored to do that.
Alex arranged to have her order sent to Suze instead of herself. She also said the check she’d send him would be with Suzanne’s name, n
ot her own. She didn’t like all the cloak and dagger stuff, but she didn’t want to leave any trail for Lyle or a private detective to find.
Then she unpacked a shipment of bear bells that had arrived from Juneau. She read the instructions about wearing them or hanging them from a backpack to warn bears away. She noted that, contrary to beliefs that bears were just waiting to attack human intruders in their area, the animals actually wanted to avoid human contact—hence the bells to alert them to stay away. Unless there were bear cubs in the vicinity, bear bells could help prevent an attack by allowing bears to avoid people.
She looked up and jumped as a shadow fell across the floor. Jerking her head around, she saw Val Chambers, wearing a sweatshirt over a white-collared blouse. Ironic, but the sweatshirt was emblazoned with a big-headed bear and the words Go Bruins!
“Oh, hi,” Alex greeted her. She gestured to her sweatshirt. “So a Bruin is a kind of bear?”
“You’re obviously not a UCLA or LA fan.”
“Hardly. I’ve never been to Los Angeles.”
“Just think the opposite of here. Warm weather. Lots of great stores—no offense. Stars—not the kind overhead at night. Great restaurants. I can’t stand the ones Ryker patronizes in town and the few I’ve seen in Anchorage aren’t much better. He loves the frontier ‘ambience,’ though it doesn’t come near some of the awesome places back home. He’d love them if he’d try them—maybe soon.”
“I’ve been to Caribou Bill’s and thought it was charming in its own way.”
“It’s own way—I guess,” she said with a shrug. “So, Ryker says you’re new around here. Don’t you miss wherever you came from—civilization?” she added with a little laugh as she turned away to look at things on the shelves.
Alex was about to deny that, when she realized she did miss some things. Getting her hair cut at her favorite salon, which she had been about to do when she left and—oh, she hadn’t called to break that appointment. She missed her gym, her Pilates class. This winter her workout might just be fighting her way through piles of the white stuff. She also missed not being able to pop into a nearby deli, shopping for clothes, but who needed a new suit or cocktail dress around here? Those were all things worth losing—at least for now—for sanity and safety.
“Then why do you stick around here?” Alex asked as Val sauntered farther in. Alex could see she wore tight leather pants that looked painted on and high-heeled boots. “I mean, if you don’t like it, even if Ryker does?”
“You just wait,” Val said, wagging her finger so hard her diamond tennis bracelet rattled. She kept a tight hold of her big purse, pressing it under her arm as if it would drop to the floor. “He’ll come around. And come home with me where he can make an awesome living and not tramp through forests and snow filming a show from Podunk, for heaven’s sake. I don’t care if you tell Quinn or Ryker what I said, because I haven’t made my feelings a secret. Ryker likes an up-front woman, and I’m it,” she added, tapping her chest just above her large breasts.
Alex nodded and decided not to say the several things that came to mind. Who was she to preach about relationships?
Val picked up one of the newly unpacked bear bells and jingled it. “Sleigh bells? You know, this store could be under tons of snow in a couple of months. Anyway, Ryker said Quinn invited you for the field trip today—or is it forest trip?—so he dropped me off in front of the lodge and I hope I can go over with you later. I’d come back with Ryker, of course.”
“Sure, you can go with me. I think it’s great you’re making an effort to learn more about the show and what Ryker does.”
“Whatever. I’m not sure I’m going farther than Q-Man’s base camp. Sounds like it could be in a war zone or on the moon, doesn’t it—base camp? Might as well be to me. And did you hear that one of the big bosses is coming back again to watch the action today? His name is Brent Bayer, and I actually like him, though he’s kind of pushy. It’s funny that his name’s Bayer, you know—like the aspirin, which I could use some of right now. I don’t think you met him at the salmon bake, but believe me, he sees and knows everything. Anyway, he’s going to take a thumb drive of Ryker’s recent footage back on his plane with him. Can you believe the two big sponsors for the show both have their own planes?”
“Which bodes well for the future of the show. They may be putting in money, but it’s obviously making money.”
“Not as much as the big Hollywood type deals. Geoff and Brent are already lining up sponsors for next season. This year is bad enough but next season—ugh!”
Alex was tempted to say that she hoped Val hadn’t given such an important backer the idea she hated the show—or that she was trying to lure Ryker away. She suddenly saw Val as lonely here—someone like a kid outside a candy store with her nose pressed to the window. She seemed to admire this Brent Bayer, yet disliked his passion for the show that was keeping Ryker here. Alex had to admit that though she disapproved of Val’s dislike of the show and this area, at least she wanted Ryker to succeed—that is, on her terms, in her chosen place.
“You sure know a lot more of what’s going on around here than I do,” Alex said.
With a sharp nod, Val chattered on. “I’m not that enamored of Brent Bayer, though, really. Ryker has said he’s something like Geoff Baldwin’s fixer. Sounds like something mafia-related or even high-stakes politics these days, doesn’t it? I told Ryker to just say Bayer’s a man of all trades and be nice to him.”
“Good idea and glad to have the company on the drive over,” Alex lied, grateful their time together in the car would not be long. “I’ll meet you in the lodge common room at one-thirty. I have a few things to do first.”
“Awesome. You know, I think I’ll take some of these cute bear bells. Bruins is an old name for brown bears, you know, so my LA and college friends might think these are a hoot. As much time as Ryker is in the woods, maybe I can put a couple on his camera. Damn, but that thing cost him twenty-eight thousand dollars, when he could have some Hollywood producer footing all those expenses. And he spends too much on memorabilia around here, scrimshaw carvings and even animal teeth like from walruses and bears! He recently bought an antique bear rug with claws and a skull with its ugly teeth intact—ugh! Can you take a credit card clear out here in the boondocks?”
“Unless a bear roars in and eats my machine that even takes chip cards out here in the boondocks,” Alex said, past caring whether her voice betrayed her wishing Val would leave. She bet a few others felt that way, too.
She tried not to say more or so much as bat an eye as Val zipped open her leather Gucci bag and plopped it on the counter.
Did this woman want to bag Ryker because he was so different from her, from the men she must know back home? Or was the guy that good in bed compared to the LA lotharios she must know? But then, once again, who was she to judge another woman’s head and heart when she’d made such a mess of her own?
16
Quinn could tell Alex was excited, but then he was, too. He was also nervous because Brent Bayer was going out with them today and not just visiting the camp to observe lectures. As usual, Quinn felt unsettled by the fact that he could not see Brent’s eyes outside because of his light-darkened glasses. That reminded him that the man saw things from two different perspectives—trying to look good for public relations, and from his own financial, bottom-line perspective. At least the guy wore a backpack today, which made him look a bit more prepared for the day.
Quinn appreciated the support from this important investor, but was Brent thinking their Q-Man was mixing business with pleasure by spending time with Alex and having her around the show? Or was he thinking that about Ryker and Val? After all, right now Brent singled out Val to talk to. Well, maybe she’d made a beeline for him since he was from a big city and she hated it here.
“All right, everybody,” Quinn announced to halt the buzz of expectant chatter in the din
ing hall where they had all gathered. “We’re going deep in the woods today after your prep work around here. No more sample footprints in little soil boxes. As our cameraman, Ryker, here would say, ‘We are going live!’”
Quinn noted that Alex had edged a bit closer to him around the side of the room. She was dressed for the afternoon trek and activities, but Val looked like a fashion plate and sore thumb at the same time. And, at something Brent had evidently told her, she’d flounced off in a huff straight to Ryker again.
Quinn went on. “Mary, Sam and I have laid out backyard-size plots in the forest for each of you to explore and evaluate. The area is heavily treed, so, although you will be in close proximity to each other—and always to Sam and me—stick to your own cordoned-off area so we know where you are. If you absolutely need help, call out your name and one of us will be there pronto.”
“No bear bells needed?” someone at the back asked.
“I think the power of bear bells is a myth. If you encounter a bear, it’s better to just shout loudly—and carry bear pepper spray, but we won’t go armed with that today. You also stand your ground, lift your arms or backpack over your head to appear bigger than you are. Do not run, because that triggers a chase-prey response in them, and they can run about thirty miles per hour. Although we find bear tracks in this area, most of the bears are a bit farther to the east at this time where there is more open land and sunlight to ripen strawberries—though we have some nearby.”
“And,” one of the Germans called out, “that’s why Mary scolded me for not putting the trash can lid on tight—bears looking for food.”
“Exactly. They like a free lunch as much as we do,” Quinn said. As ever, when lecturing about bears, his gut tightened. He never shared with his students what had happened to his father, but it was always in his head and heart.
