by Alana Terry
She had lost track of how many times she and Raphael had daydreamed about their future. She was finishing up a few classes for her associates and wanted to pursue an undergrad degree in theater. He would set up an art studio in Boston or Cambridge. New York was always their end goal, but for now she wanted to stay near Carl and Sandy, the closest thing she had to family after a childhood spent in and out of foster care. Raphael often told her how proud he was of her, how she had risen above all the negativity in her past to forge a better future for herself. She loved the way he talked to her, the way he encouraged her. She would have never made it to where she was if it weren’t for him.
Not that it mattered now, anyway. She couldn’t even transfer her credits from the community college. Two years of grueling work had been a total waste. No use dwelling on the past, Sandy would tell her. Simple adages, like Don’t cry over spilt milk that did nothing to address the horror, the loneliness Lacy had lived through. Why was she thinking about Sandy so much lately? If she could just pick up the phone, talk to her. Tell her about Kurtis. But that was impossible, too.
She stepped into the Brain Freeze and glanced around, thankful she didn’t see any of the daycare families. She was tired. All she wanted was to forget. Go back in time, never get in the car with Raphael that night.
She ordered a small sundae. It would be about half the size of what she could buy in Anchorage and cost her twice as much, but that was Glennallen for you. People had to pay the heating bills some way. At least the Brain Freeze was bug-free.
Mostly.
She chose a seat by the window and stared outside. Would she see Kurtis’s red truck drive by after he left Puck’s? Had she really done the right thing? It wasn’t fair to him. But did she have any other choice?
A bicyclist spun down the sidewalk. Funny how Alaskans could ride or jog or hike all night long if they wanted and only have to worry about mosquitoes and an occasional grumpy moose. She thought about the weekends when she and Raphael would ride the Boston trails for miles. She let her eyes follow the cyclist. There was something familiar about the way he held himself. Something about his posture ...
He glanced up. Their eyes met as he whizzed past her window.
Raphael?
She whipped her head to follow him. He didn’t slow down, didn’t look back. It had been her imagination, that’s all. A silly mind trick. Even if Raphael were alive, what were the chances ...
She couldn’t see him anymore. Had he circled around the back parking lot? Had he recognized her, too? How many times had she fantasized about this very moment, bumping into him again after so many years?
Too many years.
Their last night together was supposed to be a celebration. Lacy had just finished her spring semester of community college. Raphael told her it was a big surprise. She didn’t admit it to anybody, not even Sandy, but she wondered if this was it. The night he’d propose. They’d talked about it enough, hadn’t they?
She didn’t know why he brought her so deep into the North End, but she never questioned him. It was a surprise, he told her. The dock he drove toward looked mostly abandoned. It was dark. Nobody was around. It sounded like Raphael’s idea of something romantic. Creative Raphael, never content to do anything the traditional way.
“Are you sure you’re not lost?” she asked, and he smiled that sideways grin he only got when he was nervous. That’s when she knew. This really was it. The Night. She tried to remember every image. Every detail. Then one day when they had a family of her own, she could tell her daughters about the night Daddy asked her to marry him.
Only that’s not what happened.
Raphael’s whole body tensed behind the wheel the minute the two men appeared. Lacy had been holding his hand, and his fear rushed through his body into hers. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He turned off his headlights and reversed the car. “Nothing. I just made a wrong turn.”
That’s when she saw the body, tied up, struggling. Afterward, she could have sworn she heard the man yelling, but the victim had been gagged and Raphael’s car was too far away, so the detective said that was impossible. Still, she heard the sound of muffled pleas even in her dreams, just like she could hear the splash when his murderers dumped his body into the water below.
“Go, go, go,” Raphael whispered, coaxing his car. At the time, Lacy still hadn’t processed what she had seen. It couldn’t be real. Her eyes were playing tricks on her.
“Go, go, go.”
Raphael’s last words were interrupted by the squeal of tires. He maneuvered the car around and pushed down on the gas. He made it back to the main road before their pursuers caught up. Lacy didn’t remember screaming when the gunshot shattered the back window. She sometimes had a vague memory of the airbag exploding into a burst of dust, but she couldn’t be certain. Maybe her brain was just trying to fill in the pieces.
She woke up in a dim room, surrounded by three somber police men shooting questions at her as soon as she opened her eyes, pausing only for a moment when a nurse came in to check her vitals.
“Where’s Raphael?” Lacy croaked.
The men exchanged awkward looks before one of them declared what she already knew.
“He’s dead. I’m terribly sorry, miss.”
Chapter 3
LACY THANKED THE BRAIN Freeze waitress who brought her the sundae. The ice-cream was ho-hum, definitely not worth the six and a half dollars it cost her. She hated worrying so much about money. She wished Drisklay had given her a different witness protection identity. The daycare couldn’t afford to pay her more than minimum wage. The problem was year-round jobs were hard to find in a tourist trap like Glennallen, where weeks straight of negative-thirty temperatures kept all but the hardiest of long-term residents away.
It was the perfect place to hide, really, at least according to the witness protection folks. Four hundred residents, most of whom kept to themselves in typical Alaskan style. She had come in the spring. At least, it was spring in the rest of the world, but here there were still two or more feet of snow on the ground and several weeks of gray mud and gush before it thawed.
It wasn’t just the climate she had to get used to. They gave her a whole new name, a new identity. Jo. So brusque, so unfeminine. Sure, she had sometimes wished her birth mom had come up with something unique, something more memorable than plain old Lacy, but Jo? That took longer to get used to than the continual daylight in the summertime or the depressing bleakness of the drawn-out Glennallen winters.
She stared out the window at the place where the bicyclist had disappeared. She knew in her heart it couldn’t really be Raphael. The police, the detectives, the press, everyone said he died in the crash. She was left alone. Alone to mourn him in silence. Alone to hide until the two murderers who had chased them went to trial. Alone to testify against the people who wanted her dead.
She thought the witness protection program would be temporary. Drisklay said he’d keep her safe until the trial, and after that she’d be as free as a bird. Then it came out that the murderers boasted a web of Mafia connections. Things got increasingly complicated from there.
Still, she had held on to naïve dreams. Maybe the police knew the Mafia would come after Raphael and helped him fake his death for his own protection. She couldn’t get over the impossibly thin thread of hope that he was alive, suffering a trapped, anonymous life in witness protection in some secluded area. She hadn’t gathered up the funds or the courage to travel yet, but if she did, maybe she would run into him one day. Reunite at an airport. Catch his eyes on a crowded subway. She couldn’t count how many nights she had fallen asleep picturing his face when his eyes met hers. She rehearsed the hug, the kiss, the tears that would mingle on both their cheeks. Crying together over the lost years, vowing to never spend life apart again.
But deep in her heart, she knew her hopes were nothing more than foolishness. Wishful thinking. Impossible dreams she clung to because the pain of reality was
too hard to accept.
She stared at her miniature sundae and realized it was melting in front of her while she daydreamed of the past. A perfect metaphor for her life these past four years, really. She picked up her spoon just as the bell on the Brain Freeze door jingled and a new customer stepped in.
She sucked in her breath. Her pulse skyrocketed.
The man walked in, caught Lacy’s eye, and gave a shy smile. “Hey, Jo.”
She swallowed her disappointment. “Hi, Kurtis.”
Chapter 4
MADELINE RAN UP TO Lacy. “Daddy says I get to have an ice cream because we didn’t stay late enough at your house and you didn’t even give me any dessert.”
Lacy forced a smile. “That was awful nice of him.” She avoided Kurtis’s gaze.
“Daddy says now I have to be good and promise to sleep in until eight o’clock tomorrow.”
“Really? Well I bet a big girl like you can do something like that, can’t you?”
She puffed out her chest. “I slept until eight-thirty last Sunday. Daddy was mad because we were late for church, because he promised he would help me make pancakes, but I spilled ...”
“All right, Munchkin,” Kurtis interrupted. “You take this ten dollars here and go tell Miss Cathy up at the counter what you want, ok? And be sure to bring back my change.”
Madeline’s eyes widened. “Can I get a big one this time?”
Kurtis frowned, but his eyes stayed soft. “You know the rules.”
Madeline sighed dramatically as she turned around and marched to the counter.
“Mind if I sit down?” Kurtis gestured to the seat. “Or if you’d rather be alone, I can ...”
“No, go ahead.”
He slipped in the seat across from her.
“I was just ...” She took a bite of sundae and didn’t bother finishing her thought.
“I’m sorry I left so abruptly.” His tone was so kind it plunged icy pangs of guilt into her heart. She should be the one apologizing to him. She regretted so many things. Stringing him on for a year and a half, making him believe she was available. Making him believe her heart still didn’t belong to a man who may or may not have been killed in a car crash. The past year and a half with Kurtis had been nothing but lies. She had told him the information Drisklay had spoon-fed her about her past life. That was all. He didn’t even know her real name.
“Don’t apologize.” She resisted the temptation to take hold of his hand which rested between them on the table. Old habits ...
He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m sorry if I came across as too forceful. I was just ... I was afraid of losing you.”
She watched his Adam’s apple while he swallowed.
“It’s just that after Renee died, I thought I’d never get over it. I thought I’d have to carry that pain around with me my entire life. And I was ok with that, because I had the munchkin. But then I met you, and I was laughing again, and smiling. Madeline told me a few weeks after we started dating that she liked you because you made me act like a good daddy.”
Lacy wanted to interrupt, but Kurtis held up his hand.
“You know I love you, Jo. I’ve already told you how I was going to propose to you at the salmon feed on the Fourth. But I know you’ve been through a lot, too. You were in a serious relationship, and you lost Raphael just like I lost Renee.”
Drisklay hadn’t concocted that part of Lacy’s backstory. After a few dates, she told Kurtis about a past boyfriend who was killed in a car accident. Looking back, she probably should have changed Raphael’s name, but it didn’t really matter. Not with someone like Kurtis. The most honest Lacy had ever been with him was when she was talking about Raphael. In a way, the two of them had mourned their lost loves together. The difference was Kurtis had healed.
Lacy hadn’t.
Madeline proudly carried her dessert to the table and glanced at her father, who didn’t react when she set down a large sundae. She gave Lacy a conspiratorial grin and dug in with her spoon.
“What I’m trying to say,” Kurtis continued, “is I’m willing be patient. Whatever it takes, however long you need, I’m willing to wait for you. I want to be with you. But I’ve been selfish, pushing things when you’re not ready. And I want to ask you to forgive me for that. Can we just rewind a few months, start off a little slower? I don’t want to scare you away. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since ...”
He glanced at his daughter and sighed, letting his words trail off.
Lacy stared at her melting sundae. What had she done to deserve kindness like this? And why couldn’t she reciprocate? Was it because of that remotest of possibilities Raphael was still alive? Even if he was, how could she possibly find him? How could she hope to randomly bump into one person out of hundreds of millions?
She knew what she should do. She should accept Kurtis’s proposal, or at least keep dating him until she felt ready to take that next step. But her entire identity was a lie. Until she truly learned to embrace her identity as Jo, until she let Lacy die, how could she take such a drastic plunge? It had been a mistake to ever date him in the first place. What if Raphael came back and ...
“I’ll do it,” she blurted.
Kurtis furrowed his brows and looked at her as if she had a fever. “What do you mean?”
“I mean yes. The picture on your phone. Fourth of July. I’m saying yes.” She spoke cryptically because she knew Madeline was listening in on every word while she pretended to be absorbed in her ice cream treat.
Madeline’s eyes shot up and she looked from Lacy to her dad. “So you’re doing it? You’re really getting married?”
Lacy figured that with as crowded as the Brain Freeze was combined with how loudly Madeline shouted out the news, every local in Glennallen would hear by the end of the weekend.
Kurtis wrapped his arm around his daughter. “We’re having an adult conversation here, Munchkin. I’ll tell you all about it when I tuck you in tonight, ok?”
She pouted.
“If you’re really good, I’ll let you pick out a candy bar before we go, but you can’t eat it until tomorrow.”
Her eyes brightened, and she took another noisy slurp of sundae.
Lacy’s legs were trembling. Why did they keep it so cold in here?
Kurtis reached out and took her hand in his. “I appreciate that. I really do. And I hope one day you’ll let me put that ring on your finger and make things official. But right now, I think you just need time. And I’ve already promised you as much time as you need.” He leaned forward. “I want your whole heart. You know that. I’m not settling for half.”
Lacy’s lip quivered. “I don’t deserve you.”
Kurtis didn’t seem to hear. “I love you so much. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late, Munchkin. We better go.”
“What about my candy bar?”
“On the way out.” He sighed and turned to Lacy. “Can I drive you home?”
She had lost her appetite. “Sure.” She forced a shaky smile. “Thanks.”
They didn’t speak on the drive back to Lacy’s apartment. It was an awkward two minutes, and Lacy kept trying to think of a way to break the silence. She replayed their conversation in her mind. Were they engaged? Had they broken up? Why were things so confusing? If she really was Jo, she would marry Kurtis in a heartbeat. He was an attentive boyfriend, a caring father, and he had raised a terrific kid. He was the perfect match for someone like Jo, a small-town daycare worker living a simple life in rural Alaska. No debt, no student loans, no real ambitions. That’s the life Jo was made for.
But as hard as she had tried to seize her new identity, Lacy still wasn’t Jo. Tonight of all nights, it seemed she never would be. She was an East Coast girl. A theater aficionado. All but engaged to an up-and-coming contemporary artist who loved her wildly. Passionately. With Raphael, she had felt exhilarated. T
errified. Excited. Overwhelmed, all at the same time by his zeal and ardor. Life with him was like sky-diving. One thrill after another, peaks of adrenaline, new adventures — spontaneous adventures — every day. She couldn’t even guess how many miles they had put on Raphael’s air-brushed Saab, driving from one art show to another. Life with Raphael was like the East Coast itself. Fast-paced. Vibrant. Colorful.
And Kurtis? With Kurtis, Lacy felt safe. Safer than she had ever felt in her entire life, actually. With Kurtis, she felt cherished and protected and adored. But there wasn’t much difference between feeling adored and feeling smothered.
Still, she should try. She should try to patch things up with Kurtis. There were worse fates than ending up with someone safe. Besides, if the Mafia ever did catch wind of where Drisklay had stashed her away out here in the middle of nowhere, it wouldn’t hurt to be married to a state trooper with a whole arsenal of guns in his personal collection.
Kurtis pulled up in front of Lacy’s apartment. “I’d walk you in, but it looks like the munchkin is about to fall asleep.”
“I’m not asleep,” Madeline protested through a yawn.
Kurtis passed his phone to the backseat. “Here, find the pictures of you and Grandma at Disneyland last year. Look through those while I say good-night to Miss Jo.”
Madeline didn’t protest, and Kurtis leaned toward Lacy. “You know I’ll always care for you, right?”
Why did he say it that way? Why didn’t he say he loved her like normal? She imagined responding that she loved him too, but the words caught in her throat.
“I’m gonna let you go now.” His voice was so quiet. What was he saying? Was he saying he was dropping her off for the night? Or was there more to it? More than Lacy was ready to admit right now?
He cupped her cheek with his hand and pulled her face closer. Slowly. Tenderly. As if they both had all the time in the world. His lips met hers a centimeter at a time. Warm. Soft. Just like his embrace. Strong. She sucked in her breath. She wanted to keep him here with her forever. What was wrong with feeling safe? Why had she ever complained about that? She pressed her hand against the back of his head right as he pulled away. His eyes bored into hers. An expression that spoke such tenderness, such bittersweet longing.
