by Karen Swan
Everyone chuckled.
‘Run and hike? I think that’s it,’ Meg mused.
Jonas nodded. ‘Sounds interesting. I’d love to get out and see the scenery while I’m here.’
‘Are you big on skiing?’ Ronnie asked.
‘Yes. But more of the cross-country sort.’
‘I’ve never done that,’ Meg said. ‘I can’t imagine skiing without a slope.’
‘Yeah. When gravity gets fun,’ he smiled and she thought how piercing his eyes were – inquisitive, insightful, probing. She felt as though he could see right to the heart of her. ‘Cross-country’s a different vibe altogether – I’ll teach you if you like.’
‘Oh, no,’ she protested. ‘I couldn’t let y—’
‘Why not? You’d get to show me around and I’d get to show you how to cross-country ski.’
‘I’ve got to work.’ The town was packed and with most of the visitors choosing to ski by day and attend the screenings by night, Dolores had already had to call in extra cover for shifts.
‘I’ll cover for you.’
Ronnie looked almost as surprised as Meg at the words that had just come out of her mouth – Jack looked at her in astonishment. Ronnie covered Jack’s hand with her own and looked at him. ‘It’s fine. You can go to that workshop you wanted to go to and I’ll cover for Meg. It’s only for a day.’
‘But—’ Meg protested, looking from Ronnie to Jack and back again.
‘No buts. You should go. You definitely should.’ Ronnie shot her a meaningful look although what the meaning was supposed to be, Meg wasn’t sure.
‘Well great, that’s really generous of you,’ Jonas said, drinking his beer, his eyes back on Meg again.
Ronnie looked back at Jonas again. ‘How long are you here for?’
‘Just over a week. I have to fly to Washington on Sunday for a series of lectures.’
‘Is that for your tour?’ Meg asked.
‘Yes, but it’s almost finished now. A couple more weeks up to Christmas and then I’m done and I can take a bit of time off.’
‘You must be so shattered,’ Meg sympathized. She couldn’t imagine the reserves it must take to train and train, then spend six months in space, six weeks adjusting to gravity again and then going out on an international tour. What had she done in that time? (Although she supposed surviving a bear attack and delivering a baby was a notch above her usual accomplishment levels.)
‘Are you going home for Christmas?’ Ronnie asked.
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘And I can’t wait. I haven’t been back to Norway for over two years.’
‘Your family must be so excited.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ Jonas grinned. ‘I can’t wait to see them.’
Meg was surprised. ‘You mean you haven’t seen them yet, since landing?’
He shook his head. ‘Only on a screen. It was too difficult to get away with the little ones. My youngest brothers are still at school.’
Ronnie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘School? How many brothers do you have?’
‘Three.’
‘Wow. Three brothers,’ Ronnie echoed.
‘And two sisters.’
‘Two sisters? You mean, there’s six of you?’
‘I’m the eldest,’ he nodded.
‘God, talk about boots to fill,’ Meg murmured. She had a hard enough time having a doctor for a sister.
‘Oh, my God, that’s insane,’ Ronnie grinned, slapping the table. ‘Six kids.’ She pointed a warning finger at Jack. ‘No ideas.’
Jack held his hands up, but he was grinning wildly and reached over in the next instant, hugging her tightly around the shoulders and kissing her cheek.
Meg felt embarrassed as Ronnie turned to kiss Jack properly; Jonas looked across at Meg, his eyes resting on hers for a moment, and she felt her stomach contract. She couldn’t believe he was here.
‘So, I’ve got a joke,’ he said in a low, confiding voice.
She relaxed, a smile escaping her already. ‘Oh, yes?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘I sincerely hope it’s better than your last effort,’ she deadpanned. ‘This needs to be good.’
‘It is. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it.’
Meg placed both hands around the base of her almost-empty beer bottle, hearing the chide in his voice. ‘Go on then.’
He dropped his head and leaned in to her slightly. ‘What should you do if you see a green alien?’
Meg chewed her lip, trying to think of the punchline, aware that Jonas was watching her and hoping for exactly the opposite. But after a few moments, she had to concede defeat. ‘I don’t know. What should you do if you see a green alien?’
Jonas left a dramatic pause. ‘Wait until it’s ripe.’
She didn’t want to give in but she couldn’t hold down the smile. ‘Oh, my God,’ she laughed.
‘It’s great, right? The best one.’
‘It’s terrible!’
‘How?’ Jonas gasped, but laughing too. ‘How can it be terrible if you’re laughing? I win!’
‘No!’ she shook her head, still laughing, wishing she could stop.
‘Yes!’ Jonas said triumphantly. ‘It’s the best. I made you laugh.’
She sighed, her laughter subsiding finally into chuckles. ‘Fine. It was vaguely amusing.’
‘Vague—?’ Jonas gasped again, pulling a face of mock-outrage as he picked up his beer and went to finish it – only to find it already was. ‘I’m going to get another round in and whilst I do that, you can see if you can top that joke.’
‘Fine,’ Meg grinned.
‘Fine,’ he quipped back.
Meg didn’t notice Ronnie and Jack watching them. She was too busy staring at his back as he disappeared into the crowd, this man who had seen, achieved and done more than any other person in the room – the state, the country, almost the planet – and yet seemed more grounded than any of them. He was everything he’d been in space – attentive, patient, kind, wise – but so much more than that too. In the flesh (the very handsome flesh), his gaze was direct and unflinching, his laugh low and easy, his hands large but smooth . . . It was precisely why she’d wanted to cut off contact. It was their anonymity to one another that had made it so easy to talk – no judgements possible. As she sat right here beside him, however, he was no longer a voice in the dark, but a man.
He wasn’t just the faceless floating figure of a thousand comic books and adventure films – he was a man from a large family and a small town; a man who had walked in space but loved traversing mountains; who was cleverer than anyone she knew but laughed at the daftest jokes. He wasn’t just a disembodied voice, but flesh and blood and gorgeous. He’d been up there but now he was down here. He’d come to find her and she could no longer pretend he was a stranger; he was her friend.
This thing was real.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Monday 13 November 2017
‘Hey, it’s Tuck, right?’ Jonas asked, extending a hand to the good-looking blond guy he remembered meeting briefly in the square. ‘I’m Jonas Solberg, Meg’s fr—’
‘The astronaut!’ Tuck said, brightening and shaking his hand firmly.
Jonas automatically dipped his head as people turned and stared, not quite sure if they’d heard correctly. He nodded vaguely. ‘Meg said you’d probably be here.’ He cast a casual glance around the room. It was populated almost entirely by men, and most of them were classified further by their shaggy haircuts, weather-worn tans and performance-logoed clothes. ‘Apparently this workshop’s good?’
‘Oh, man, it’s the nuts. Are you into film-making?’
‘I’m interested in the idea of it. I’ve got a lot of footage.’
‘I bet!’ Tuck pointed to a bearded guy in a red fleece gilet and walking trousers at the front of the hall, standing by the whiteboard. ‘That there’s the guy you need to talk to by the time this thing ends. He’s a commissioning editor at National Geographic and it would blow his mind to know you were here.’
<
br /> ‘What kind of films do you do?’ Jonas asked, changing the subject from himself.
‘Snow-based mainly. Me and Mitch have—’ He caught himself and stopped dead, a strained smile on his face as he corrected himself. ‘We had a snowboard company together.’ He hesitated. ‘I mean, the company’s still going, just not with . . .’
‘Sure,’ Jonas nodded, seeing how Tuck was tangling himself in knots. ‘What’s it called?’
‘Titch. Have you heard of it?’
Jonas shook his head apologetically.
‘No? Well, you soon will. We started in small trick boards and now we’re pushing into the main market. We’ve had a run of luck with some big-name riders winning on our styles so there’s . . . it’s going well, put it that way.’ His eyes sparkled excitedly. ‘Anyway, Mitch had this big idea that we should submit a film to this gig every year – he thought it was the perfect marketing tool for the boards. We’re not trying to win – although that would be nice – but to get on the world tour. They select like ten, fifteen films from the shortlist and go on this big road trip. Forty countries, man! And almost all the people buying tickets to it are our bang-on market.’
‘It’s a great idea. Have you ever made the cut?’
‘Twice. And I’m really gunning for this year too.’ He shook his head sombrely. ‘Man, I put everything I got into this year’s submission. If this film don’t make it, nothing will.’ He paused, as though speaking required strength, the light in his eyes seeming to fade. But then in the next instant, he suddenly switched back on again, as though remembering Jonas was still standing there. ‘But Mitch was right, it really works – we see a thirty-nine per cent spike in sales in the six months after each tour. Why pay for advertising when we can build brand recognition and loyalty this way? Plus it means we can continue to do what we’ve always done – go ride the mountains, make a film out of it, build the brand – all in one . . .’
‘It sounds like Mitch had a head for business.’
‘And thrills, man. Nothin’ scared him. He was fearless,’ Tuck said, with mannerisms better suited to a teenage boy. Jonas watched as Tuck’s face dropped again and thought it was like watching him running through trees – for some moments, the memories bathed him in sunlight; for others, he receded into the shade. Who was this guy who had cast such a long shadow over them all – Meg, Tuck, even Lucy giving her baby his name? They’d only been talking for a few minutes but Tuck struck him as the most lost person he’d ever met, living on past glories.
‘I’m really sorry. From everything I’ve heard, he sounded like a great guy.’
‘Yeah.’
They were silent a moment, Jonas having to step out of the way to let a few people past to their seats. The auditorium was two-thirds full and the bearded man at the front was taking a sip of water, a sure sign he was getting ready to begin.
‘Anyways,’ Tuck said, trying to rally. ‘That’s why I’m here. Every year I try to learn a bit more and perfect the craft.’
‘So you said you’ve got a film in for this year?’
‘Yeah. I’m nervous, man.’
‘Well, I wish you luck with it. I hope it’s you I’m presenting the award to on Sunday night.’
Tuck’s eyes widened. ‘Are you a judge?’
‘Sadly not. I’m here in an honorary capacity only.’
‘Shame,’ Tuck grinned. ‘I was about to shamelessly bribe you, bro – unlimited beers at Bill’s, the phone number of three very hot sisters . . .’
They laughed, just as the lights dimmed and the logo of the film festival suddenly came up on the giant screen.
‘Can we sit here?’ Jonas asked, gesturing to the empty seats behind them.
‘Yeah, anywhere, man,’ Tuck said, taking the one beside him.
They sat down together as the bearded guy cleared his throat and introduced himself.
Tuck leaned in slightly. ‘Hey, you wanna go to lunch after this?’ he whispered.
Jonas smiled, feeling somehow as though he was back in high school. ‘Yeah. You’re on.’
‘I think I’ve seen planets smaller than that pizza,’ Jonas said as Tuck’s order was set down before him.
Tuck laughed and patted his stomach, able to feel the ridges of his muscles beneath his fingers. ‘What can I say? I’m a man of big appetites.’
Jonas grinned as his peppercorn steak and fries were set in front of him. ‘Well, that was really interesting. I’m glad I went.’
Tuck leaned in on his elbows. ‘I learn something new every time. Just when I think I’ve got it all, they blow me sideways with some new piece of editing software or a camera technique. I always come away wanting more. Swear to God, if they ran it as a college course, I’d be there like a shot.’
‘Sounds like you’re really serious about the filming gig. More so than the snowboards?’
Tuck sighed, holding up a pizza slice and pulling it away so that the cheese stretched into elastic strings. ‘I can’t pretend it hasn’t felt different without Mitch.’ He shook his head, dropping his hand back down to the plate, the cheese strings slack again. ‘Nothing’s the same, man.’
It was several moments before he realized Jonas had stopped chewing and was watching him with a concerned expression; that he had lapsed into a desolate silence.
‘But—’ He rallied, forcing a smile. ‘We all gotta deal with our shit, right? It’ll get better. It’s already getting better. I’m a father now.’
‘I saw! How old?’
‘Twelve days now,’ Tuck said, his mouth full. ‘Although ask Lucy and she’ll give you the answer right down to the minutes.’
Jonas grinned. ‘And are you enjoying it? Fatherhood, I mean.’
Tuck rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I’m not sure “enjoying” is the word. Those broken nights are brutal, man. They are way harder than I thought they were gonna be.’ He shrugged. ‘But he’s got a way of kind of reeling you in, that little guy. Sometimes, before I get home after a day in the office or the store or the studio, I kinda stop outside the door and just feel like “Jeez”. I’m so wiped, you know? But then I walk in and see him and . . .’ He shrugged again, making a clucking sound with his tongue. ‘I’m a sucker. He kills me.’ He pulled apart another slice. ‘You got kids?’
‘No.’
Tuck grinned. ‘That’s kind of a shame. You almost want a kid just so he can say, “My daddy’s an astronaut!”’
‘I guess,’ Jonas said, laughing at the backwards logic.
‘How about a woman? You married?’
‘Nope. The training’s pretty intense once you’re selected for an expedition so even if I did meet someone, it wouldn’t really be fair to get involved and then . . . well, leave the planet.’
Tuck guffawed with laughter, smacking his stomach again. ‘It puts a whole other complexion on travelling for work, that’s for sure!’
‘Exactly.’
They ate.
‘And Meg?’ Tuck watched Jonas’s expression as he asked the question, pulling off his sweatshirt. Surprise was all he saw before his sight was blocked, his T-shirt riding up and inadvertently showing off his six-pack. ‘What are your intentions?’
‘What do you mean?’ Jonas asked, his fork hovering in mid-air.
‘Well, I was just wondering whether there was anything more between the two of you,’ Tuck said. ‘She talked about you a lot.’
‘Talked? Past tense?’
‘Yeah, not so much recently, although she and Lucy haven’t been getting on lately so who knows what she’s been talking about? Maybe she’s talking to other people.’
Jonas hesitated. ‘Is that because . . . Don’t take this the wrong way, but is that because of the baby’s name?’
Tuck’s shoulders slumped. ‘That obvious?’
‘Well, when I asked the baby’s name and your wife said “Mitch”, she looked pretty stressed. I just wondered . . .’ He shrugged, resuming eating again.
Tuck dropped the piece of pizza he was holding and wiped
his fingers on the paper napkin. ‘And you know what? I don’t even blame her. I’d feel exactly the same.’ He hesitated. ‘Hell, I do feel the same, but what’s done is done. Lucy registered it and there’s nothing I can do about it.’
‘She named your child without consulting you on it?’ Jonas’s shock was evident, breaking through even his formal European politeness.
‘Pretty much.’ Tuck flicked his eyes up to his dining companion. ‘But then that’s Lucy all over. Nothing stops her. Once she makes her mind up about something, she’s like a human dynamo. Force of nature.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘It was one of the things I liked most about her when we got together so I guess I can hardly very well complain about it now.’
‘But that must be hard for you, to hear Mitch’s name over and over. Or is it not? Perhaps it makes it easier in a way, desensitizes it?’
‘No, man, it sucks. I jump every time I hear it.’ Tuck shook his head bitterly, eyeing his pizza with remarkably little gusto.
‘And so now Meg’s avoiding Lucy?’
‘Like the plague. She hasn’t been over once since we told her and she was the one who delivered the baby.’
‘Sorry? Meg delivered the baby?’ Jonas echoed in disbelief.
Tuck chuckled at his expression. ‘She sure did. Baby came early and they were up at the cabin together. The paramedics couldn’t get there in time.’
‘So she had to deal with a medical emergency on her own?’
‘Yep. It just seems to be one disaster after another up there. We keep trying to get her to move into town but she won’t have any of it.’ He picked up the next piece of pizza and looked at it lethargically. The dough was limp in his hand, the cheese beginning to thicken and congeal as it cooled. ‘Anyway, they’ve fallen out again and so now I’ve got Lucy crying all the time and I don’t know what to tell her. How can I say it’ll all be all right? The more days go past, the less likely it looks.’ He grimaced. ‘You know what I think? I think Meg’s had enough. She’s moving on and that means my life is gonna be hell.’
‘Can’t you talk to her, on Lucy’s behalf?’
Tuck gave a dismissive snort. ‘Hell, no. I’m the last person she wants to talk to.’
