by J. H. Croix
“Yeah, Diego just had a question about the posture,” I offered. I couldn’t resist giving him a little hell.
Actually, maybe it was a favor. Because then Gemma helped him adjust into the posture in question. After class, we all headed back to the resort. It was a card night. Perhaps that wasn’t the best fit after yoga, but it was always good to chill out with my friends.
After a dinner that involved some kind of coconut Thai curry that Daphne whipped up, we decamped to the private apartment Flynn shared with Daphne and Cat.
“Where’s Cat?” I asked as I flopped down on one side of their sectional sofa.
“She’s spending the night with a friend,” Daphne called over. Diego sat down at an angle near me and Gabriel on the other end of the sectional. We were all beat this evening. It had been a busy few days of flying.
Flynn walked into the kitchen area, stopping beside Daphne to drop a kiss on the side of her neck. She smiled up at him. “I made you guys fresh brownies.”
“Sweet!” Diego called as he pumped his fist in the air.
“Please tell me there’s vanilla ice cream to go with them,” Tucker said as he sat down.
“Absolutely.”
“Did you make that too?” Tucker added dryly.
Daphne crossed over to rest her hands on her hips as she surveyed us where she stood by the coffee table. “I could, but I didn’t have time.”
“Where are you headed?” Flynn asked as she stepped into her clogs by the door.
Daphne glanced back. “Y’all are having your boys’ card night, so I’m going over to Nora’s cabin. We’re gonna have a girls’ night. We need more girls.”
“My sister’s coming next summer,” Tucker called.
“Awesome. That’ll make three of us, and there’s still six of you,” she said just as Grant stepped through the door.
“Six of who?” he asked.
“Boys who call themselves men,” Daphne teased. “All right, I’m outta here. Have fun.” She slipped through the door with a wave at the room in general.
Not much later, the entire pan of brownies and the entire gallon of ice cream were gone. In our defense, there were six full-grown men.
I leaned back in the corner of the sectional, resting my leg on it and experimentally rotating my foot.
“How’s it feel?” Diego asked from my side.
“Decent. I’ll take it. I don’t think I’ll ever be one hundred percent. When I get old, I’ll probably be able to gauge whether or not it’s gonna rain by this ankle, but it works.”
Diego chuckled as he set down his cards. “Any word?” he asked
“Word about what?” Grant chimed in from where he sat organizing his hand of cards.
I sighed. “You haven’t heard yet?”
“Heard what? I’ve been up in Anchorage for the last four days.”
“My ex showed up, and I had to do a paternity test. Don’t worry, there’s no chance I’m the father. It’s not official yet though,” I added when Grant’s eyes went comically wide.
“Not to sound stupid, but if there’s no chance you’re the father, why the hell did you have to do a paternity test? And what are you actually talking about?”
Flynn chuckled from where he sat beside Grant. Grant didn’t even know me when I’d been seeing Sandra.
“It’s old news. I needed to do the paternity test because the actual father died, but his family is disputing paternity because they don’t want her to get his survivor benefits. They claim I’m the father, and I’m not.”
Grant only looked more confused. I felt compelled to explain further. “It’s complicated. She was screwing around on me, I broke up with her, but she was already pregnant with the other guy’s kid when all that went down. That’s all.”
Grant took a long drag from his beer. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Dude, you’re doing her a solid. After she screwed around on you, I don’t know if I could’ve done that.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Shit happens. It’s not my kid, but I think it’s bullshit to keep the kid from getting survivor benefits. That only hurts the innocent party in all this.”
“When will you know?” Tucker piped up.
“Violet at the lab said probably five days. She told me it could be sooner but she didn’t want to make any promises because they have to send the samples up to the lab in Anchorage. I’m hoping to hear soon.”
“How is Cammi?” Flynn asked, his assessing gaze holding mine.
Gabriel played a winning hand before I answered. Flynn started to shuffle, because apparently that was his permanent job these days, before he prompted me again. “About Cammi?”
“We’re on pause. I guess,” I replied.
“Did she freak out about Sandra showing up like that?” Gabriel asked.
“Sorta. I think she understands the details now, but she said she needed a little space, so I’m trying to give it to her.”
The game moved along, and other conversations picked up. Diego looked over at one point and offered, “You’re not asking, but I’m not sure if you let Cammi know how you feel.”
“What do you mean?” A little hum of anxiety churned in my gut.
Diego gave me a long look. “Dude, it’s obvious to me you’re falling for her in a big way. I guess she asked for a break, and I think it’s good to give her a little breathing room. You tend to play your cards seriously close to your chest. Evidence for how often you win when you’re in the mood. But, now is not the time to play things cool.”
If there was a heartbeat in our tight group of friends, it was Diego. He was the emotional core of our group and intensely loyal. I didn’t doubt that if and when he ever fell for anyone, it would be like a ton of bricks falling from the sky.
“I’m not playing it cool. I told her I thought we had something,” I insisted.
Diego rolled his eyes, and Flynn must’ve heard the end of that. “Dude, saying you “have something” is the kind of thing people say when they’re fishing around for dates on those apps. You’re about to go up in flames with Cammi whenever you’re near her. I think you need to do a little bit more than say you think you have “something”.” He emphasized his point with air quotes around something.
Diego chuckled, lifting his chin toward Flynn in acknowledgment. “My point exactly.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Elias
The following morning, I was out prepping a plane for a flight. It was an all mail delivery today for me. Nora usually handled most of the scheduling and did a good job of changing it up for us. Some days were tourist days and other days we got to fly the gorgeous skies of Alaska with nothing but the sound of the plane engine and the mountains to keep us company while we dropped off various deliveries.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I fished it out to glance down at the screen. It was a text from Sandra. Results are in: you’re not the father. I already knew that, but I thought you’d want to know for sure.
I tapped out a quick reply to Sandra. Thanks for letting me know and hope that helps. You take care now.
Just then, my phone rang, and I saw it was the hospital number. I only knew this because I had entered it as a contact in my phone in the aftermath of my recovery after the accident last winter.
“Hello,” I answered.
“May I please speak with Elias?”
“Hey, Violet. I recognize your voice,” I said. “I’m guessing you’re calling me with the results. I already heard.”
She laughed. “You’re not the father, but then that’s what you said. I guess it’s none of my business, but I admit to being nosy about your situation.”
I chuckled. “No big deal. You can be nosy. It was a blast from the past, and a custody case where they’re trying to deny child support and say I was the father. We didn’t end on great terms before, but it’s not right for people to pull that kind of shit, so I did the deed. Or rather, I didn’t do the deed.”
Violet’s laugh rang out in my ear. “You’re
a good man, Elias. I’ll see you around. Don’t forget, you know where to find me if you need to get your cheek swabbed or some blood drawn.”
“I sure do. You take care, Violet. Give Sawyer my best,” I said, referring to her husband.
“You got it. I gotta go ‘cause I’m getting paged. See ya.”
I hung up my phone and slid it in my pocket. Another second later, I pulled it back out. I typed out a quick text to Cammi.
Just wanted you to know the results came back, only confirming what I already knew. I’m not a surprise father. I hope you’re doing okay. Miss you.
I’d gone by reliably to get my coffee at Red Truck Coffee. Although I was giving her space, I thought it would be weird for me not to do what I’d done for years. Out of those mornings, I’d only seen her twice. According to Amy, Cammi was busy over at Misty Mountain Café most days.
As I flew into the blue sky a few minutes later, I pondered Diego’s and Flynn’s pointed comments last night. I suppose I did play my cards close. It felt fucking monumental to tell Cammi I knew we had something. Yet, after what she’d been through, she had her own reasons for being doubtful about that.
I was unloading the delivery for a small village onto the pallets set up when Stan, whose last name I didn’t even know, rolled up on his four-wheeler, a common form of transportation in the smaller villages in Alaska. He ran the grocery store and cast me a quick smile. “What do we have today?”
“A shit ton of food,” I replied with a wry grin.
Stan chuckled and cut the engine on his four-wheeler, climbing off and quickly helping me unload. Stan used to be the chief of the small tribe for this village. He was older now and told me he enjoyed running the store because he could keep up on all the gossip. I usually expected to see him and had remembered to get him a coffee from Red Truck Coffee because it was his favorite. “Hang on,” I said, lifting a finger after we put the last box on a pallet, which was ready to be driven by forklift the short distance to the small store.
I leaned in between the plane seats and pulled out the untouched coffee. “Here you go,” I said handing it over.
Stan put his palm over his heart in a gesture reminiscent of Diego. “Oh, man. I swear, that Cammi, she’s an angel. Her coffee is straight from heaven, and I’m not even sure I believe in God.”
I chuckled. “Not gonna argue with you on that. She just bought Misty Mountain Café too.”
“Whoa,” he said with a grin after he took a long swallow of his coffee. “She’s going to be a monopoly. I wonder if her food is as good as her coffee.”
I shrugged. “Not sure about that, but she told me she wanted to have breakfast leftover pizza, so I took that as a really good sign.”
“That’s freaking brilliant,” Stan said. “Don’t you know if she’s a good cook? I thought you were seeing her.”
Did I mention Stan was up on the gossip? Lord knows how this guy knew about me and Cammi. Although, Diamond Creek was a hub town in this part of Alaska. If anybody from this village was flying out, they went through Diamond Creek on the way. It was the main place for them to travel for any errands beyond the small offerings here in the village at the general store.
“How the hell do you know anything about who I’m dating?” I countered.
“I’m high-society, dude. Saw you at that fundraiser with her. Remember?”
“Oh shit, we did see you there. I meant to track you down to chat some more, but the night got away from me.”
“Sure, the night got away from you. Better explanation was your eyes were stuck on Cammi. Now you listen,” he said, his eyes lasering me as his gaze went somber. “She is a nice girl, and you better not screw her over. I heard about that bullshit that last guy pulled with her. Good thing I’m over here most of the time and not around to make a stink over there.”
Of course, Stan would practically adopt Cammi. He was also that kind of guy. He loved people far and wide, which was how we became friends so quick when I took the job with Flynn. Stan had actually volunteered to fly with me and introduce me at some of the other villages.
I held both palms up in surrender. “Stan, I don’t play games, and I wouldn’t hurt Cammi.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know that. I know you’re a good guy and you’re totally solid, but you’re kind of, I don’t know, a little mysterious, I think you got a past. So, I’m just saying don’t let your baggage fuck with her.”
I leaned my head back to stare at the sky as I took a deep breath. Was I that fucking obvious? Leveling my gaze with his again, I nodded. “I get it. I’ve got baggage. I’ll do my best not to let it mess with her.”
He nodded and cuffed me lightly on the shoulder. “Fair enough. We all got baggage. Lord knows, I do. I’ve had three wives, and now I’m back with my first one. Only took me…” He paused, counting on one hand. “…forty years to figure out I shoulda stayed with her to begin with.”
I threw my head back with a hearty laugh. “Guess it’s never too late to figure out the right thing to do, huh?”
“Damn straight. Now, I’m sure you’re on a schedule, so you better get your ass in the air. I’ll see you next time you’re here for delivery, okay? Don’t forget my coffee,” he called as he strolled away and held the distinctive red cup up in the air.
Chapter Thirty
Cammi
A few days later
I stared at my phone, rereading Elias’s text for maybe the one-hundredth time. I didn’t like admitting it to myself, but a teeny-tiny corner of my brain had been afraid there was some kind of a surprise waiting for me. There was no surprise. He wasn’t the father. He’d told me he wasn’t, but I’d still worried. I hated that I’d been so fucked up in my head about it.
I tapped out of that text and opened another, this one from Joel’s soon to be ex-wife.
Hey, Cammi. I got your number from Joel’s phone. He has no idea I’m texting you, and frankly I don’t care if he finds out. I just wanted your number. I wanted you to know I officially filed for divorce, and I’m moving out of state with the kids. I also wanted to apologize once again. No matter what, remember, he betrayed you as much as me, and every other woman he’s had affairs with. I’m not actually sure how many. You seem like a nice person, so I hope you don’t let what happened with him mess with your head for too long. Trust me, hon, it’s not worth it. You’ve got my number now, so if you ever need me, just call. I have no idea what I could do, but I’m all about good women being there for each other. Take care.
I shook my head slowly, my chest loosening up a little bit more every time I read her text.
Setting my phone down, I opened the folder of paint samples I’d picked up. The loan had closed, early as planned. Blessedly, none of the staff left, so Misty Mountain Café was running along without a hiccup. Susie was helping me get set up with a payroll system to take over the one they were already using. With the loan including fees to help with the transition, I was beyond relieved I could rely on a friend I trusted implicitly and also make sure she got paid.
Now, I wanted to get the place repainted before the summer tourism picked up too much. I was planning to do it in the evenings after we were closed, one wall at a time. I was deep into comparing paint samples when I heard a knock on the glass windows. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw my friends, Risa and Jessa, waving.
Setting down the samples, I crossed over to the door to unlock it and let them in. “What are you two doing here?”
Risa brushed her dark bangs away from her brown eyes, smiling as she replied, “We’re here to have fun.”
Jessa added, “Girls’ night. We haven’t had one in months. We figured we’d do it here if that’s okay.”
Risa managed Midnight Sun Arts Gallery, which was near the harbor. She was married to the local police chief, Darren Thomas, and also the sister of Trey Holden, Emma’s husband. Jessa was one of the Hamilton’s, the family who owned Last Frontier Lodge. She was married to Eli Brooks who ran an outdoor gear shop. Diamond Creek was alw
ays going to be a small town. Although I hadn’t grown up with either one of them, they were both friends and part of the larger circle of women I knew well.
I had texted Risa earlier today asking for some feedback on colors. “I thought we could take a look at your paint ideas and then hang out,” Risa explained.
“Sounds good to me,” I replied. Anything to keep my mind off of what to do about Elias would work for me.
I threw the bolt on the door and gestured for them to come over to the counter. I had spread the samples over the counter in front of the espresso machine. Risa and Jessa immediately began looking through the samples. While Risa ran the gallery, Jessa herself was an artist. She sold whimsically painted furniture at the gallery here and others in Anchorage, in addition to San Francisco. She was fun and creative.
“I think go with one of these brighter options for an accent wall, maybe the plum, and then keep the other walls something neutral, either a soft gray, or cream. Something cream will be a little warmer for the space. Are you planning to keep artwork on the walls here?” Risa asked as she looked around.
Hands on hips, I nodded. “That was the other thing. I thought I could talk to you about potentially rotating art for sale through here.”
Risa clapped her hands lightly. “That would be freaking perfect. I suggested that to the former owners, but they didn’t want to have to worry about managing commissions. I think we can run all the payments through my gallery, and I give you a cut of the commission. How does that sound?”
“Freaking perfect,” I said with a grin. Risa high-fived me. I turned to Jessa, adding, “We can always have a display of your furniture for one of the tables. It would be used, but it’s a great way to display your work. What do you think?”
“Freaking perfect,” Jessa parroted Risa and me.
We laughed together and then I brought my focus back to the color samples. “I think you’re right on the accent wall. Maybe that’s the one behind the register so the other walls are more neutral for displaying art.”
