And then there’s Nick. He’s not the same fool idiot who hurt your heart, Maris. He’s grown up fighting his own self-image which is wholly negative. Do you remember when we were visiting the Chihuly Museum in Seattle? You said one of the pieces reminded you of Nick. I asked why and you said, “It’s fierce, fluid, delicate — despite arguments to the contrary, accessible yet untouchable.” Then you walked away with disappointment in your eyes because you couldn’t afford to buy the piece of art that so reminded you of the man you love.
So, unless you’re doing something awful like remodeling my room – and I can’t imagine why you would be – you should find this journal first. The rest are hidden under boxes of mementos in my closet that I know you’ve stayed far away from because there’s memories in there you’re not ready to confront. I chose to bring them back from Florida because as Kevin is getting older, I didn’t want to run the risk of him coming across them and finding out about his father before his parents had the chance to tell him.
These journals were my only way to let out my inner thoughts, my rage, at not being able to do more — be more — for my friends. Too many times, I let out my rage and often my sadness. Far too often, I was helpless instead of insightful. The words in the other journals were my venting and not how I truly felt about the men and women who I do consider my family — especially you.
Those words were written by a brother, a friend, a man who knew things and couldn’t share the truths he knew with the people who would benefit from them the most.
Because would the truth have made Meadow divorce her husband?
Would they have given Brad and Rainey their firstborn baby back?
Could they convince Kara to please, for the love of all that’s holy, let me tell Jennings he has a son?
Maybe they would make Nick engage more because he would know for certain he’s loved by all of us no matter how he grew up.
But if I could choose one, it would be to give you another horn, because you are magical. To me, you always have been. From the first moment I held you.
I love you, Maris. My everlasting sunshine.
Love,
Jed.
PS - All the way against the wall in the back corner under my bed is a box for you. Did you think I would leave it there when it’s been yours since the moment you saw it?
I flip the rest of the pages. They’re all blank. I close my eyes as the tears begin to run hotly down my cheeks. I have it. My answer. Finally, it’s all clear. “God, Jed. I love you too.”
Then, still clutching the journal, I race out of the sunroom. I race past Brad and Nick, who’ve just entered the kitchen. “What the…” I hear Nick say, but I don’t acknowledge him.
Making more sound than a herd of elephants, I climb the stairs as quickly as I can. I race down the hall to Jed’s room and fling the door open. His bed is pushed in the corner, under two windows. When I cleaned out his room, I never pulled the bed away from the wall since it was too heavy. Tossing the journal on the dresser, I whirl around and smack right into Nick.
“Tell me what it is,” he demands.
My hand raises until I cup his cheek. He turns his face and nuzzles the palm. “Completely touchable,” I whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Never mind. I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to move Jed’s bed.”
“This was Jed’s room? I forgot what it looked like. Maybe because it’s clean.” His head swivels from side to side, taking it in.
I nod. “You’re right, it’s clean. But he…I need…there’s something…”
Nick lays his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me close enough to put his lips on my forehead. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Can you pull it out? There’s supposed to be a box in the corner closest near the wall.” I can barely get the words out.
He nods. Moving past me, he shifts the end table aside and jerks the frame. The rustic log headboard drags along the carpet a few inches. Nick tugs again and again. “Do you see it?”
I jump on top of the mattress, and there it is, covered with a layer of dust. I carefully pull it out.
Before I can open it, Nick shoves the bed with me on it back into place. Dropping down next to me, he nods. “Do you know what it is?”
I whisper, “Yes.” I’m surprised I can get anything out over the pounding in my heart.
“What is it?”
My eyes rise from the dust-covered box to meet his, dark and full of secrets. Right now, before I open the box, I make myself a promise that I’ll tell him what I know. I lift the lid, and the smoky bowl of beautiful Chihuly glass is exposed. Nick sharply inhales over the sheer beauty of what’s carefully wrapped inside.
I reach for Nick’s hand and lace my fingers through them. “He left me something to remind me of you.”
Then, still cautious about the beautiful treasure Jed left me, I lean over and whisper my lips over Nick’s stunned ones.
Nicholas
“What do you mean, he left you something that reminds you of me?” I demand once we’re downstairs.
“Patience, Nick. Patience,” Maris teases as she moves around the kitchen, spinning around here and there, grabbing spices from one cabinet, then food from the fridge in a dance so graceful it reminds me of the Whirling Dervishes.
In the hour or so since Brad left and the beast is far enough away from the wall so the home inspector can get to the outlets behind it, Maris has transformed. Gone is the woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and in her place is a combination of the vixen I first fell for all those years ago mixed with the woman whose life has experienced enormous upheaval and survived. There’s a flush riding her cheeks, and her eyes are twinkling even as she’s concentrating.
“That’s not what I said,” I mumble. In fact, it’s the furthest thing from the truth. I lost my chance. Didn’t I?
Maris stops plants her feet in place so fast her hair floats down to her shoulders. “Let me fix dinner, and then I’ll start from the beginning.”
Intrigued at the idea of Maris cooking, I hike up onto one of the barstools. “What are you making?”
“Meatloaf.”
Just her saying the word sets my salivary glands in overdrive. “Your mom’s recipe?”
“Is there any other way?” Maris turns to the refrigerator and grabs milk, eggs, ketchup, parsley, and the beef.
“Did you know I used to ask your mother to run away with me when she would make this? Of course, I had the poor taste to do so when your father would be in the room. I think that’s when I learned to start fighting.” My lips twitch at the memories as I spy the familiar ingredients gathering on the counter.
“Nick, if you ever asked me to be with you, it’d better not be because I’m catering to your stomach. It’s going to be because you can’t wait another minute to have me.” My head snaps up, but she spins so I can’t read her face. “Now unless you want me to screw this up, keep quiet for a moment while I measure the ingredients out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And because this is one of my favorite meals of all time and the woman who is the epitome of every wish I’ve ever had is making it, I do as she asks while Maris molds the meat on the pan.
But as soon as she’s done wiping her hands, I’m out of my seat. Caging her against the sink, I lean down. “Now, explain.”
She lays her head against my heart. “You’re going to have questions.”
“That’s a given.”
“Head into the sunroom. I’ll meet you in there with the last two pieces of the puzzle I’ve been missing. After all, it’s due to you I now have them.”
Because of me? Even though her words don’t make sense, I do as she asks.
“This sunroom is probably my favorite room in the house. I imagine it must be like living inside a storm in the winter,” I muse aloud.
“Exactly that.” I turn when Maris comes in behind me with the dusty box we pulled from under Jed’s bed and the leather-bound book we found behind the
console. “You asked me what did I mean by Jed leaving me something that reminds you of me. He also gave you back to me.”
“How?”
“It turns out the things we don’t say to each other has as much impact as the things we do.” Silence lies heavy between us as I grapple with the meaning behind her words. Then she continues. “Despite how it may have appeared, I missed you, Nick—the Nick I knew who I spent summers getting to know just a few yards from here.” She nods her head out the glass windows.
“I missed you too. Every day.” Regret fills my voice.
Maris smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I cross my arms over my chest to hide the fisting of my hands out of sheer nerves. Somehow I know that the secrets she’s about to share with me are about to change us both in ways we’ll never be able to come back from. And I’d be lying if a part of me doesn’t want her to hold them to herself. Her eyes drift downward, so I can only see the fragile lids when she starts talking. “When you left, I resented you didn’t keep your promise to keep in touch because even if you didn’t feel the same way about me that I felt about you, I thought we were friends.” Maris’s eyes flick up at me before drifting out the window, but not before I catch a glimpse of the depth of pain. Pain I would take away if I could. And I can’t help but feel guilt because her pain was an indirect result of my carelessness with my friends.
“It took a long time for me to realize I deserved better than that.” Her chin lifts pugnaciously.
“You did. You do,” I assure her.
“Consciously, yes. I know that. Subconsciously, some part of me didn’t believe that. Otherwise I would have avoided a man like Carter Jones that night in the bar.”
“Is that the man…?”
She nods. “I paid a great price for my pride, Nick.”
“There’s no price too high to pay for pride,” I defend her, stepping closer. But as I do, I notice her eyes are wet.
“Oh, but there can be. Yes, Nick, there truly can be. Anyway.” She presses the box and the leather journal in my hand. “You’ve done a lot of reading lately. But do you remember my saying I’ve been searching for the answers and I couldn’t find them?”
“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Tonight you helped me find the key. For so long, I felt lost, alone. I thought I lost my brother in the most basic of ways. And tonight, you gave him back to me. After reading this, you might understand why. The rest of the journals I found, that he references, are over there.” I follow the line of Maris’s arm to a bookcase. “If you want to read them, go ahead. They’re in chronological order.” She starts to leave the room.
Hastily putting the items down on a chair, I follow her. “Where are you going?”
“I have some work to do before dinner. I’ll be in my office upstairs.” Maris walks back toward me. As the sunroom is down a step, our faces are perfectly aligned. She leans forward and brushes a kiss across my cheek. “Please read what I gave you first. I can’t have you lose Jed the way I did.” Then she turns and walks away.
I follow her movement until she’s out of sight. Then I lift the box onto my lap. Opening the journal, I begin to read. And almost immediately the burn of tears hits the back of my eyes. And as I continue to read Jed’s love letter to Maris, they fall silently down my face.
Carefully, I lift the dusty box cover and find the intricately blown glass bowl that reminded Maris of me. Smoky gray, reflective mirror, and obsidian. It’s masculine and hard on the outside with a soft center. I have to slide it to the floor before my shaking hands drop the priceless treasure—priceless not because of who made it, but because of the love of a sibling who likely went well into hock to buy it for his beloved sister. “Jed, you’re fucking lucky you’re not here. I’d probably crush you half to death with the hug I want to give you, you bastard. We miss you so damn much.” My voice crumbles on the last few words.
I care nothing for the fact that Maris knows about my past or of diving into the secrets the Jacks may have kept from one another but entrusted to Jed. I have an overwhelming need to find the man who ran Maris off the road and to punch him until he’s a bloody mess missing a few critical body parts of his own. I want him to be weeping for something he always dreamed of having and will be permanently denied. I want him to suffer while others are smiling. I want him to feel an ounce of the pain Maris has held inside her all of this time. And then I want to do it again.
But as much as I want to do that, there’s something else I need to do more. I reach my hands behind my neck and unfasten the cross Jed left me. Because he did more than give me faith. He led me to something much more precious.
Maris.
And this belongs to her. Now, it’s time to give it to her.
I place the journal on the shelf with the rest. “I don’t need to read these. She can tell me what she wants me to know. And to be honest, if the guys want me to know their shit, they can let me in. That’s their right—and hers.” Then I leave the sunroom in search of the woman who has always held my heart even when I didn’t think it was worth anything.
Apparently she’s always thought differently.
My footfalls make creaks up the stairs. There’s clicking from the computer keyboard guiding me to her. My heart rate increases as I get closer. When I get closer, the clicking slows down, but not my heart. If anything, it speeds up more. I clench my fingers around the gold chain, careful not to squeeze the cross too tightly.
As I reach the doorway, Maris surges to her feet. “That was awfully quick.”
“I read what I needed to, Sunshine. And I came to a startling conclusion.”
Maris thrusts her hip out, and her hands go akimbo. “Oh? Really? I agonized over those journals for the better part of a year, hating myself for judging you, and after just a few minutes you’re done? So do share. Your conclusion is?” The bite in her voice, the scrappy fighter who’s struggled to her feet despite having fallen, makes what I’m about to do so right.
Maris needs to find the faith in herself so much more than I do.
I lift my hand and let the gold unfurl from my hands. Maris’s gasp is loud enough it might be heard in downtown Juneau. “Jed was right. I needed to have more faith in the people who loved me. Now it’s your turn to do the same.” I step forward and clasp the chain around her neck.
“No, Nick. He meant for you to have this,” she protests. Her hands start to move, but I trap them beneath mine.
“And I believe it belongs to a woman with more strength and courage in her heart than any fighter, than any person—including her brother. Including me in the darkest days when I wondered if my mother was coming back for me.”
“That’s not true.” Maris shakes her head adamantly.
“It takes a strong woman to have dreams. It takes a brave one to celebrate her dying ones with the people she loves,” I whisper.
Maris lets out a small wounded noise. Her head drops in defeat.
I slip my arms around her and pull her close. For a long time, we stand like that until an annoying beep-beep goes off in the room. “What the hell is that?” I demand.
Maris pulls out of my arms to reach for her cell phone. It feels so wrong to let her go but so right for the glint of gold to be at her throat. “Dinner’s ready. And you know the rules, Nick. Whoever cooks…” Her luminous face breaks into a wobbly smile.
“Doesn’t clean. I remember.” Looping an arm around her, I tug her forward for a smacking kiss. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go eat.”
“Okay.” But as I turn to make my way toward the door, she hasn’t moved. When I turn around, I find her fiddling with her grandfather’s cross. “Nick? Are you sure? Jed wanted you to have this.” Uncertainty clouds her magnificent eyes.
“I’m certain.” My voice is strong. There’s only one thing I’ve ever been more certain about and that’s how much I regret hurting her. But somehow I’ll make that up to her as well.
Carefully, Maris tucks it inside her shirt. She visibly shudders.
/> “What is it?” My voice is frantic.
“I’ve felt like I’ve been drifting since Jed died. For the first time, I feel like I have an anchor. At least for a little while.”
I go to open my mouth to assure her I’ll always be here for her, but Maris waves a hand. “It’s silly, I know. You’re going to be leaving soon. But thank you, Nick. I’m glad the acrimony is gone between us, if nothing else.” And like a wraith, she slides past me into the hall. Her feet make a light dance on the stairs as she makes her way into the kitchen.
And I stand in her office and think for long moments about leaving.
And suddenly dinner doesn’t sound so appealing.
Maris
“My father gave me my grandfather’s cross for graduation with the understanding I would leave it to Maris should something happen to me. ‘Your grandfather believed in two things, Jed. Family and faith,’ my father told me. Tonight, I did something. I broke my father’s trust because someone else needs those things more. I just hope he forgives me.” - From the journals of Jedidiah Smith.
“He gave you Jed’s cross?” Kara gasps.
I lift the chain out of my shirt and show it to her. It’s a few days after we had dinner at my house, and I haven’t heard a word from Nick, but I know he’s still in Juneau. He’s been training the fighter he came here to work with. I figure it’s only a matter of time until he comes by to tell me he’s heading back to Albuquerque, but I’m finally at peace with my relationship with him. No, that’s a lie, but what am I supposed to do? I’m finally starting to build a life here, and he’s made a successful one there. “There are things I need to share with you. I’m terrified of what you’re going to say.”
Kara’s quiet. When she speaks, her words freeze my blood. “After I returned from Juneau, I received a letter from Dean’s lawyer. In the package, there was a posthumous message from Jed. He told me everything, Maris—including the fact you didn’t remember.”
“Oh, God. Kara. I’m so sorry. I broke your trust. How can you ever forgive me?”
Return by Sea (Glacier Adventure Series Book 3) Page 15
