by Frankie Love
Because now I know my past has cost me everything I want. Marley Grove. The girl I love. The girl I can never have.
Marley
The bar is full, which makes sense. It's a Friday night in Riverside, and all the fishermen are looking for a few pints. The locals are looking for some entertainment. I smile doing my rounds, making some tips, pouring beer and delivering chicken wings. Trying my best to believe this life is enough. For 24 years, it was. And then I met Maker. And my whole world seemed to shatter, to no longer seem quite as full as it had appeared.
It's been two months since I've seen Maker, since he wrapped his arms around me and swung me around the dance floor, kissed me softly on his boat with the whole night ahead of us. It seems like a dream, a good dream.
But the day after, with the fight in the back yard of our house, it all became a nightmare. My brothers had black eyes, a broken rib. Gavin even lost a tooth, which I'm not supposed to talk about because he's mortified about it. Three on one, and somehow Maker was the least scathed. If Sheriff Price hadn't shown up, I don't want to think about what would have happened.
Still, every single day I find myself thinking about Maker, about our night together. And tonight as I round a corner with a tray of beers in hand to give the table in the corner, I see a bearded man walk into the bar. I pause, thinking for a split second that it's him.
But then he turns and I see his eyes. They're much too blue for Maker.
I blink, realizing he actually looks nothing like Maker. He's shorter and not nearly as tough. The two men aren’t even built the same. And when he slides onto a stool at the bar, my heart tightens with disappointment. God, how I wish everything would have ended differently.
I give the table their beers and I realize the couple there had slipped into the bar without me realizing I went to high school with them.
"Marley. You're looking so good these days. You're literally glowing,” Tamara says. She's with her husband, Marcus. High school sweethearts. If I’m the golden girl of Riverside, Tamara, a year ahead of me, always was vying for that position. We were both Homecoming Queens of our respective years. Not like there was much competition at our school of twenty graduating seniors.
"What are you up to these days?" she asks.
"Oh, work mostly."
"And taking care of your brothers?” Marcus asks with a laugh. "Dude, Price told me about the fight that happened at your place a few months back. It's fucking insane.”
"Which part was insane?" I say, wondering how much they know.
Tamara shrugs. "Well, we just heard that there was some criminal, like an actual wanted criminal from California, who was living up here? That he got in a fight with your brothers. I couldn't believe it. I was like, 'Why would he be in Riverside in the first place?'"
"Right,” I say, looking for an excuse to leave this conversation. The pair of them have always seemed so smug and I resent them for it. "Why would he be?"
"No, but seriously. Why was he here?” Tamara asks. "Like, do you have the inside scoop?"
I laugh. "What, you want the gossip like we're in some reality television show? Tamara, this is Riverside, Alaska. There's nobody here. Nothing interesting happens. The guy had a friend who was getting married in the Whiskey Mountains. That's all."
"Oh, like, so you know him?"
I nod. “I met him at the wedding. Near Whiskey Mountain.”
Tamara's mouth falls open. "Wow. I had no idea you were like that. Hanging out with people in the backwoods. I always thought you were such a good girl. And yet you're hanging out with a wanted criminal."
"He's not wanted," I say. "He'd been in some trouble before, but he's not like that."
"Oh, so you do know him. Like him even.”
"What makes you say that?" I ask.
"You're, like, defending him." she says.
"Maybe,” I say. "He was my friend, or is my friend, or whatever. It doesn't matter."
"Right," Tamara says with a laugh. "I'm sure it doesn't matter. It's not like a wanted criminal would want to be with a girl like you."
The tray of beers in my hands seems to shake. I want to pick up a pint and throw it in her face. "What do you mean, a girl like me?"
"Marley. You're risk-averse. I mean, have you ever done a bad thing in your entire life? I remember back in high school, all the guys would want to go down to the bonfire and drink and smoke."
"And fuck," Marcus adds.
"Right," Tamara says with a laugh. "Anyways. You never wanted to do that sort of thing. You’d stay home and study.”
"Yeah. It's never been my style."
"Exactly,” she says. "So the idea of you being with a guy like that, it's just really out of character."
"Maybe you don't actually know me all that well," I say to her. “Maybe I’ve changed.”
"Maybe you have,” she says. "I like this version of Marley Grove. No wonder your brothers were so pissed."
"What’s that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"Your brothers just have a tight rein on you. To be honest, I wondered what took you so long to stand up for yourself."
"Right,” I say. "Well, now we know what it took."
Tamara nods with a knowing grin. "Good for you, girl."
I walk away from them, wondering what the hell that was about. Not that I'm surprised. I know what people here think of me. I'm the sweetheart, the darling. And I'm not going to try and pretend I'm not that person. I am that person, but I'm also more than that.
Maybe we all are, Maker included.
I swallow and get through my shift until it’s over. I cash out my till and I grab my jacket, throwing my purse over my shoulder, thinking about what's inside of it.
When I get home, I ignore my brothers, who are half drunk in the living room. I go to the bathroom, locking the door, opening my purse and pulling out the package that I bought at the pharmacy earlier.
I hated buying it because in this town, nothing is a secret. It's too small for that, but I had to get the test. So I bought it along with a Snickers bar and a Diet Coke. And I averted my eyes, not meeting Tony's gaze as he rang me up. He didn't say anything. And I thanked him silently for that.
Now alone in my bathroom, I open the test up, and pee on the stick. Hoping for what? I don't know. I guess just a definitive answer. Some sort of understanding. Part of me is wishing everything were different, and also not wanting anything to change because if it all had been different, I guess maybe I wouldn't have had that night with Maker.
I wait the three minutes, just like the instructions tell me, and finally I glance at the test strip. My heart’s beating fast as I look at the two pink lines, a positive result.
I close my eyes, but the tears fall anyways. My heart pounding with one emotion: joy.
Maker
"When's the last time you got any rest?" Walker asks, setting down his drill and wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "I mean, I've been out here every day this week, but you've been out here every day for the past two months. Aren't you tired?"
I grunt, picking up another screw and drilling it into the baseboard. "I have a vision," I say. "Corny as that sounds, I've got to do this, Walker. I mean, I've got to make a life for myself out here."
Walker nods. "I get that, brother. I do. It's just, why the rush? You have the land. You don't need a big ass cabin right now. Take some time to breathe. Have you even slept recently?"
I shrug. "I sleep at least five, six hours a night. That's plenty."
Walker laughs. "Hell, I guess I can't say it's much better for me, considering the babies keeping me up half the night."
"Yeah," I say. "But they sure are cute."
Now Walker does more than laugh. He's cracking up. "Dude, did my bad ass brother just make a comment about babies being cute? Who the hell are you?"
"I don't know," I tell him, running a hand over my beard. “I’ve just been out here watching you and Jameson. Hell, Beam sent me a text. Bellamy’s having a baby too. It's just, fuck
, everyone's moving on with their lives. And I want that."
"Well, you're not going to find a wife and a baby out here in the middle of the woods," Walker says with a laugh. "Come on, let's have a beer and something to eat. I'm fucking starving and Wavy packed us a lunch."
"Damn, Wavy's good to you."
Walker laughs. "Too good for me."
"Yeah, and how do you deal with that, knowing the woman you love, the mother of your children, is way better than you'll ever be?"
Walker opens up the cooler he brought with him this morning and hands me a beer and a meatloaf sandwich. Fuck, good old home cooking. And it's good too.
“I look at it this way," Walker says. "The girl of my dreams somehow decided I was the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life. And instead of pushing that away, I made a choice to be what she needed, the man she believed I could be. I know it sounds cheesy, but hell, I don't give a shit. I just know that I don't want to let my wife down ever. I love Wavy. I love her enough to give her the life she deserves. And I can only pray that I'll live up to her expectations."
"I think I fucked up," I tell Walker.
"How so?" he says.
"I just keep thinking about Marley."
My brother's eyebrows raise. "The girl from the wedding? You keep in touch with her?"
I shake my head. "No." I never told him the truth of what happened after I dropped her off at her house, the fight in the back yard. I hadn't seen him for a few weeks after the wedding so he never saw my black eye, the bruise on my face.
"I don't keep in touch with her, but I wish I had."
"Yeah? She seemed like a nice girl. Too nice for you.” My brother shakes his head.
"That's the problem. She is too good for me, but hell, we spent a night together. Well, two nights really, and—"
"Wait, what? You hooked up with her?"
I shrug. "Look, I'm not trying to get into the details. I just really care about her. Is that crazy, to care about someone you hardly know?"
Walker takes a slug from his beer. "Look, I'm not the right man to answer that question. I fell for Wavy hard. I didn't want to let her go. So, I'm maybe not the right guy to ask about taking it slow. When I want something, I go in. All in."
I nod. "That's how I've always been too. And it worked well for me."
"Until?" Walker asks.
I tell him the truth. "Until her three brothers beat the living shit out of me when I took her home." I explain the rest of the story to Walker and he nods in understanding.
"Three on one? What the fuck were you thinking, Maker?"
I run a hand over my beard. "I was thinking I cared about Marley and I would do anything to be with her."
"And then you got beat up and ran home with your tail between your legs?" my brother asks, confronting me.
"Look, the sheriff was there. I had no choice but to leave. Besides, what do I have to offer a girl like Marley? She's the town sweetheart in Riverside. Everyone there thinks she’s a princess and her brothers have never let her date. So, then I show up, a goddamn ex-con, with a history they all know about, and I don't even have a goddamn house to bring her home to. I have nothing."
Walker nods, everything making sense. "And that's why you're working your ass off to build this place?"
I nod. "Exactly."
"Well, why didn't you just tell me that? Jameson and Beam would have been over here to help if everyone knew."
"Knew that I had shit to show for myself?"
"Maker, that's not true," Walker tells me. "You've got money, and that’s a start. Do you have any dreams? What do you want to do with your life?"
"I could ask you the same question," I push back.
"Look, Wavy and I are happy, and homesteading takes a shit ton of work. We have a simple life and that's how we want it. We make ends meet because we are working hard for what we have. Our ambition is small, but Maker, you're different than me. You've always had a bigger picture in mind. You've always managed lots of people, lots of money, lots of assets. Are you really going to be happy here in the middle of nowhere without a job?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Part of me would like to invest in something with Alaskan roots, make this state better than it is. Fuck, I know that sounds egotistical, but I have a lot of cash. I could do a lot of good if I knew what good needed to be done. I've spent so many years in California making money off people's pain. Now, I want to put that money somewhere it can help. And until I'm doing that to some degree, I won't be good enough for a girl like Marley Grove."
Walker grunts. "Look, I'm not telling you what to do. Hell, you've always been a man who did what he wanted anyways. But I've seen you change over the last few years, and I'm fucking proud of you, bro. Maybe that's not very manly to say or admit, but I am. Wavy is too. You've come a long ass way. So, don't stop now. Get Beam and Jameson over here tomorrow. We'll finish your fucking house. Hire a contractor to do the finishing work. If you need a home to bring your girl to, make sure that happens. And in the meantime, you've got to figure out what you want to do with your life. And you need to stop letting your past define you because I can tell you from my own experience, it'll only hold you back."
"Fuck, Walker. When did you become so damn inspirational?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, looking at my little brother and knowing he's a good man, the kind of man I want to be.
"Now finish your food," Walker says, taking the final drink of his beer. "And let's get back to work. We have a house to build."
Marley
I'm pregnant. Very clearly pregnant.
I went to a midwife in town the day after I took the test and now it's been a few weeks. I heard the heartbeat and even if no one else will notice the swell of my belly, I feel it, a little bean that's growing there.
I’m lucky that I don't have morning sickness, but it's hard for me to eat much without feeling slightly nauseous. Still, I'm grateful I'm not waking up every day running to the bathroom because the fact that I live with my brothers who do not know and will not know that I’m carrying their niece or nephew, is really important right now. Until I talk to Maker face-to-face, I don't want them on some rampage looking for him.
They already got in a fight over my virtue and everyone left with bloody lips. I don't want to know what might come of the fact that I'm now pregnant with Maker's baby. Even as I think, a smile crosses my face. I'm so happy even though I have a hundred different reasons to be scared. I'm not. I'm hopeful. And God, it feels good.
In the kitchen I make breakfast for my brothers like I do most days. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, a pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice. And this is why they don't want me to go on dates, to fall in love, get married, live happily ever after. Because if I wasn't here in this kitchen, cooking and cleaning and taking care of them, then they would have to face the reality that they are bachelors without many prospects, because there aren't many options in Alaska.
There aren't hundreds of women waiting for a man to sweep them off their feet. Most of the girls who are born and raised here leave when they get the chance. And the ones that come later in their lives, they're usually hitched by the time they arrive.
My brothers are good guys. And they're well-intentioned but sometimes when it comes to me, it gets them in trouble. I want them to be happy. But first, before I can worry about their happily ever afters, I need to deal with my own.
When they come into the kitchen, I start dishing up their morning meal. As I place plates in front of them at the kitchen table, I tell them I need to take a boat out to visit my friend Bellamy today.
"You hiring someone to drive you?"
"Well, yeah, unless one of you want to. It's a three-hour drive both ways. It would be the whole day. I was thinking of getting a charter and staying the night.”
My brothers exchange glances. “Sorry, we can’t drive you. We're busy today."
"With what?” I ask.
They're fishermen, and they go out for weeks at a time with large crews. They're all home
right now. And I know Jett's not leaving for another week to go out on the crab boat.
"Why can't you guys take me?"
"We actually have a meeting at the bank today,” Gavin says.
"At the bank?” I ask. "What for?” They frown as if deciding how much they can trust me with. "Look, I cook and clean for you. I take care of you guys. At least you can treat me like I'm old enough to know what your deal is at the bank. Are we having money problems or something? Because I’m the one who's buying all this food. And let me tell you, you guys go through a lot of bacon."
"No, we don't have money problems, Marley. The house is paid off from Mom and Dad's life insurance,” Dylan says, "and we appreciate your contribution with the groceries. But we’ve told you a hundred times, you don't need to do that."
I pour myself a cup of coffee and join them at the table with my plate of food. "I know," I say with a smirk. "You guys are really good to me even if you are really good at sabotaging all my potential relationships."
Jett rolls his eyes. "Are we still talking about that Maker guy? Come on, Marley. He's all wrong for you. You need a nice guy. Maybe some guy who is a widower, with a ready-made family."
"That's not what I want," I say. "Not that I have anything against it, but there's only like one widower in Riverside and that's Jenkins. He's twice my age."
My brother nods sheepishly. "I know there are not a lot of options, but Maker isn't one of them."
"Look, I don't want to talk about Maker right now. I want to talk about you guys and whatever you're doing at the bank," I say, adamant.
"Fine," Jett says. “We're trying to get a loan.”
"For what?” I ask.
He shrugs. "Look, we have a large chunk of money saved, a couple hundred thousand, but we need more."
"What kind of loan are you looking for?" I ask, the sum of money overwhelming.
"We need an investor if we can't get a loan. So we're going this route first. Seems easier since we don’t know anyone with that kind of cash.”
