Alaskan Dawn

by Edie Claire

  “She sounds amazingly industrious, for someone with a heart problem,” Ben offered.

  Haley nodded. “She was. She hardly ever sat down, unless she was sick or having trouble breathing. Even if she was just wandering slowly around the house wiping random things with a dust rag, she was always in motion. But we didn’t love her because of her work ethic, we loved her because she was good. She was so incredibly giving. So sympathetic. So kind. She was a perpetually cheerful person who always looked on the bright side, and she expected everyone else to do the same. And we did, if only to humor her. She made our home feel safe and happy, because if there was nothing else to laugh at, she would laugh at herself. One time she accidentally put salt in a pie instead of sugar, and when we all grimaced and spit it out, instead of being embarrassed or feeling guilty she literally laughed herself under the table.”

  Ben chuckled, and Haley looked at him. “You’re easy to talk to, you know that? Stop me if I’m boring you.”

  “You, boring me?” he asked with surprise. “You could talk for another hour straight and I’d still be ahead in the family stories department.”

  Haley smiled her thanks. “There’s a reason I’m telling you all this now. Janie isn’t with us anymore. She died the year Micah and I went off to college. She went under anesthesia for a minor surgical procedure, and her heart just stopped. They couldn’t bring her back. We didn’t even know she was having surgery that day. We were stunned. And devastated. And completely heartbroken.”

  “I can imagine,” Ben said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Haley nodded. “So you can see why… well, let’s just say that everyone in my family has rather strong feelings when it comes to Down Syndrome.”

  She paused and looked away, her eyes sweeping the trees again. She saw some small birds. Nothing else. A pickup truck approached, crept by them on the narrow bridge, then sped up again. The sky was still blue and sunny, but the sun’s rays seemed not to penetrate the gloom of the dense woods.

  “You’re worried about the baby you’re carrying, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

  Haley’s eyes returned to his face. “You know, for a guy, you are scary perceptive about women.”

  He pretended to frown. “Don’t remind me.”

  Haley couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, you’re right,” she acknowledged. “With in vitro fertilization, prenatal testing is a part of the bargain. Everything looked fine with this baby in the beginning. The blood tests were inconclusive, but nothing to be concerned about, and the ultrasounds all looked fine. It was the chorionic villus sampling that turned our worlds upside down. It came back with a diagnosis of Down Syndrome.”

  Ben’s expression remained sympathetic, but he said nothing. Haley took another deep breath and pressed on. “The doctors weren’t convinced, though. They gave Micah and Tim every reason to hope that the test was a false positive, because it didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the data. They suggested confirmation with amniocentesis. But as I have a feeling you already know”—she glanced at him sideways—“we couldn’t do that immediately. We had to wait until I was almost a month farther along.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy,” he said. “On any of you.”

  “It was not,” Haley agreed. “I honestly thought Micah would lose her mind. In fact, I’m still not entirely sure she hasn’t. Because as miserable and heartbreaking as the whole thing was, the worst part of it was Tim’s reaction. When the doctor told them the test was positive for DS, the first words out of the man’s mouth were ‘Is it too late to terminate?’”

  Ben winced slightly.

  “He didn’t mean it, though,” Haley clarified. “I know he didn’t. Those were the words that came out of his mouth, but I suspect that what he was really thinking was more like, ‘Wait, I can’t handle this. Can I get off the bus now?’”

  Ben smiled at her. “I’d say you’re equally perceptive about men, counselor.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks feeling suddenly warm. “Unfortunately, Tim said the words that he said. And when Micah heard them, she translated them to mean something entirely different. What she heard was, ‘Your Aunt Janie’s life wasn’t worth living.’”

  Ben blew out a breath. “I see the problem.”

  Haley forged on. “Those four weeks of waiting were a nightmare. Tim reversed his statement almost immediately and told Micah that he didn’t want to terminate, that he wanted their baby very much whether it had special needs or not. But he could only appease her so much, because the damage was done. She doubted his dedication to the baby. She tried to make herself believe him, and they eventually came to a sort of truce. But ever since that day, I’ve watched Micah’s mental state deteriorate before my eyes. She’s been tortured, not only with worrying about Tim and how he feels about having a baby with DS, but how she feels about it.”

  Haley checked to see if Ben was still with her. He was. “I know how she feels,” Haley continued, “because I’ve been feeling all the same things myself. We loved Janie so much. In a lot of ways, she was more of a parent to us than either our mother or our father. Either of us would be proud, thrilled, to have a baby just like her. But Janie’s personality and her spirit were one thing, and the physical suffering she endured was another.”

  Haley’s eyes grew misty again. “She died when she was only thirty-six, Ben. I know that children born with DS today have much better odds of living longer, fuller lives than when Janie was born. But still. Micah is torn apart inside because as much as she loved Janie and wants to honor her life, she will be devastated if this baby has DS. She wants her child to be healthy. Everyone does. But whenever she finds herself wishing so strongly for a baby without DS, she feels guilty.”

  Haley saw the tops of some tall weeds moving on the far bank of the stream across the road. She stared for a moment, and so did Ben. But the brush was too dense to see through. And the movement stopped.

  “I went in for the amnio a little over a week ago,” she continued. “We got the preliminary results the next evening. It was negative. There’s still a three to four percent chance the baby could have a rare version of DS, and we can’t rule that out until the full results come in. But for now, there’s a 96 to 97 percent chance the baby is perfectly fine.”

  Ben smiled at her. “Congratulations.”

  “We were all overjoyed,” Haley said, smiling. But as she remembered the rest of that evening, she frowned again. “Unfortunately, what should have been a celebration didn’t turn out that way. We were all pleased and relieved, and Tim was over the moon, but Micah—”

  Haley closed her eyes and gave her head a shake. Not for the first time, she wondered how she and Micah could share as much DNA as they did, even as fraternal twins. “Instead of sharing in his relief, Micah somehow managed to be offended by it. As if the degree of happiness he was showing was in direct proportion to how horrified he would have been if the result had been positive. I’m no shrink, but I have a strong hunch that what Micah was really feeling was guilt over her own relief. But she couldn’t deal with that. So she took it out on him. And she still is. Two nights ago she moved out of their apartment. She’s been staying at our mother’s condo.”

  Ben blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Wow,” he said finally. His eyes met hers. “I had no idea. I mean… No wonder you were falling apart, Haley.”

  She smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I still am, my friend. When I agreed to be a surrogate, the marriage in question was rock solid, and so was the baby’s mother. Micah’s always been emotional and impulsive, but I’ve never seen her behave as irrationally as this. I’ve tried to reason with her, to help her see Tim’s side, to understand where all her guilt and anger is coming from. But she won’t listen to me. And I can’t get her to see a therapist, either. When I made the decision to bail on her and come to Alaska, I really was at the end of my rope. I was afraid that my own angst might be harming the baby.”

  “It was a good decision,” Ben
said quickly. “You do feel better now, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Haley said softly, her hand moving involuntarily to her abdomen. “But I still have to think about Fred.”

  “Fred?” Ben said dubiously. “The baby’s name is Fred?”

  Haley chuckled. “No. Unofficially it’s Sophia or Liam. At least those were the leading contenders the last time I heard. Micah and Tim asked not to know the gender until the baby’s born. I’ve always thought of the baby as a girl, for whatever reason, so I balance that out by calling her Fred. Weird, I know. But it works for me. It also helps to keep that ‘safe distance’ the counselor advised.”

  Ben smiled at her. “Fred it is, then.”

  Haley smiled back. “Fred deserves the best. And as much as I want to shake my sister sometimes, I’ve always believed she would make a wonderful mother. And I know Tim will be a great father. It’s what both of them have always wanted, even before they met each other. I keep telling myself that all this craziness will pass soon, that Micah will get back to her normal, only slightly nutty self and that Fred will have a happy, stable home.”

  Haley’s voice broke. “And then other times…”

  She couldn’t finish.

  “You wonder if you’ve made a mistake,” Ben supplied, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Fresh moisture swelled behind Haley’s eyes, but she was able to control it. Despite the toll this conversation was taking on her, she did feel stronger today. Much stronger.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I do wonder. And then I feel guilty for wondering.”

  Ben shifted in his seat. Haley could sense that he was itching to hold her, and she wanted that, too. But the bucket seats of the Jetta were hardly conducive. And no way was she getting out of the car.

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he said gently, instead. “You know that. You’ve gone above and beyond — way beyond — for your sister already, and you’re taking good care of Fred now. To second-guess is to be human. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  “I don’t usually,” Haley defended. “Irrational guilt is so terribly Micah. I know that sounds awful of — oh, my God, look!” She jumped in her seat and pointed frantically out the front windshield.

  A giant brown creature trundled out of the tall weeds and onto the road just twenty feet ahead. The bear padded on heavy paws to the midline of the road, stopped dead, and stared right at them.

  “It’s a grizzly!” Haley exclaimed with a squeak.

  “No, it’s not,” Ben whispered back, a catch of humor in his voice. “It’s a black bear.”

  Haley wanted to glare at him, but could not take her gaze off the roughly three-hundred pound mammal that remained still as a statue, its dark eyes locked on her own. “It’s brown!” she protested.

  “Well, obviously it’s brown,” Ben said with amusement. “But it’s a brown black bear.”

  “Of course it is,” Haley said wryly.

  Ben chuckled. “Look at the shape of its head and the slope of its back. Grizzlies’ faces are more dished in and they have shoulder humps. This bear is smaller, too.”

  “That’s small?” Haley said with disbelief. Even with the car between them, her every muscle was taut. “Why is it staring at us?”

  “He’s just checking us out,” Ben explained. “Deciding if we’re a threat. Whether he wants to risk messing with us or not.”

  “Not!” Haley suggested in a whisper.

  As if on cue, the bear broke eye contact, lowered its head, and moved quickly the rest of the way across the road. It plunged into the weeds ahead of them and disappeared.

  “Awesome,” Ben murmured.

  They watched silently for a few more seconds as the tops of the weeds on the stream’s far bank jostled, betraying movement beneath. They saw a flash of brown as the animal moved from the bank into the trees. Then the bear disappeared again into the ferns and heavy brush of the forest floor.

  Haley stared after it, speechless.

  “See there?” Ben crowed. “That’s what happens 99% of the time. Bear sees human, bear goes the other way. They’re not stupid. They have better things to do with their time than tangle with the likes of you or me.”

  Haley flashed him a skeptical look. “Or a three-thousand pound car,” she quipped.

  Ben laughed. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked eagerly.

  She grinned at him. “You know I did.”

  He grinned back.

  Haley’s heart skipped a beat. She cursed the wide plastic console that separated them. She was also profoundly grateful for it.

  The things I do for you, Micah…

  Haley shook herself. She couldn’t think like that. She could not.

  “Well, I was promised a grizzly,” she teased, breaking the spell. “But I suppose a brown black bear will be acceptable.”

  Ben shook his head. “No way. At Parker Naturalist Services, we guarantee 100% satisfaction or your money back. We can try again another time. Or we can refund your money, in the form of my buying you a barbecue sandwich at this little dive I know of not far from here. You hungry?”

  At the mention of food, Haley’s stomach growled. “Starving. I accept your offer, Captain Parker.”

  “Which one, counselor?”

  Haley considered. “Well, I’m hungry now. But it would be fun to try again another day, too. Can I have both?”

  Ben’s eyes twinkled at her, and within their depths Haley read the same emotions she knew were written plainly in her own. Fondness. Longing. And frustration.

  “You can have anything you want,” he replied.

  Chapter 18

  Haley picked up her suitcase — very slowly and carefully — and slid it into the trunk of her rental car. She could have waited and asked Ben to lift it for her. But she had asked him for more than enough already. Besides, the bag wasn’t that heavy. Not nearly as heavy as her heart.

  She closed the trunk and walked back to the front porch of her cabin. Her eyes drifted out over the distant snow-laced mountains, and she drank in every inch of the view, attempting to memorize it. I’ll be back. She promised herself. I will.

  She had it all worked out in her mind already. If Micah was willing, Haley would make arrangements to buy out her sister’s interest with some kind of payment plan. If not, Haley could sell off the back acres around her uncle’s house as payment to Micah and keep the cabins for herself. She would find a property management company to handle the rentals — with the understanding that Ben had first dibs, of course. The other cabin would have to be rented by the week. That way, whenever she visited, she could stay here. And enjoy this very view.

  Her mind had been frantically plotting such scenarios for hours now. Ever since the internet cafe in which she had parked herself this morning was invaded by the ring of her cell phone and ominous words from Bob. The discovery ruling was issued this morning. It’s just what we were afraid of. In fact, it’s worse. We need to move fast, Haley. You’ve got to get back here ASAP.

  He had no idea that, just as he was speaking those dreaded words, Haley had been looking out the cafe’s front windows to see a bald eagle swoop down over the water of Resurrection Bay and dive for a fish. Nor, she suspected, would he have cared.

  I’ll be back.

  Haley repeated the mantra which, ever since, had been the only thing keeping her from crumpling. She had thought that she was finished with the crying. But she’d also thought she had more time with Ben.

  Their first real outing together since her full disclosure had been as close to a perfect evening as Haley could remember. It certainly exceeded any date she had ever been on, despite the fact that nothing physical had happened between them. In fact, if not for that aggravating omission, the evening would have been perfect.

  She breathed in another lungful of the crisp air, then let it out with a sigh. The weather was beautiful again today. Ben was out on a full-day tour, which meant he would take his passengers all the way to the glacier again. The longer tre
k was his favorite, and Haley smiled to think of him enjoying his day. She tried not to think about how little time they would have together when he returned. She had offered to cook spaghetti tonight, and he had offered her another shot at seeing a wild grizzly. The spaghetti sauce was ready and waiting. But she would have to eat and run.

  Was it crazy to think that she could return to Seward before Ben left for the season? It had taken her years to manage even six days off. But now she was more motivated. Even three days in Alaska would be worth the flights. What was the money, to her? She had nothing better to spend it on.

  I’ll be back. I will.

  Even as she repeated the words to herself, Haley’s heart felt like lead. The six days she had just taken had not come without a price. She would return to her office significantly behind, and would immediately be hit with both the Consolidated crisis and the looming disaster at Stirjon. It could take months to dig herself out again.

  A rumble sounded down the gravel road, and Haley’s heart began to pound. Ben was back. And early, too. He must have tidied up the boat — or whatever it was a captain did — in record time. She crossed the driveway from her porch to his, then went inside to start the pasta boiling. It felt a little too intimate, cooking in his kitchen, but hers had no cookware and it seemed silly to drag everything over and back. Besides, she was already using his shower.

  Except for last night.

  Haley’s cheeks flamed at the thought. She had been taking her showers when Ben was out, but yesterday she’d had no time. When they returned last night he had extended the offer as always, but the moment had been an awkward one. As well-behaved as they had both managed to be throughout a friendly evening of barbecue, bear watching, and the sharing of embarrassing family stories, the undercurrent of attraction between them was impossible to ignore. Their increasing emotional closeness had, of course, only made things worse. And with those embers already glowing, the idea of her unclothed self showering within a ten-foot radius of his bed was the equivalent of lighter fluid.