by Edie Claire
Ri’s eyes watered. “You too, scumbag.”
“So hey,” Mei Lin asked more brightly, swiping a hand across her cheek and sitting up. “You heard anything else from Alaska?”
Ri’s heart turned instantly to lead. “Not since Wednesday.” She looked at the time. “Listen, I’ve got to get to the bus stop. Call me again in about an hour and a half, okay? Or text anytime.”
Mei Lin eyed her knowingly, and Ri fought back another wellspring of emotion. She’d been managing all right this week, day by day. Sunday through Tuesday had totally sucked, but on Wednesday Wolf had texted her a picture of his dogs. He was lying on a carpet somewhere and Suka and Tog were both on top of him, kissing him to death. He had typed one word along with it. “Reunion.”
Ri had promptly sent back a picture of herself wedged into her new workstation behind the printer in the HR department, to which she added the caption, “Rehired.” But she had not heard from him since.
She had been ecstatic to receive the message, but she knew better than to hope for an ongoing conversation. In all the time they’d spent together Wolf had hardly ever used his cell phone. And he would soon be in the Aleutian Islands, where his access to reception would be intermittent at best.
“Okay,” Mei Lin replied. “You should text him again, though.”
Ri felt another blanket of sadness weighing upon her. “Maybe I’ll send something tonight. Something funny.”
“Don’t be so careful!” Mei Lin advised, sounding more like her old self, now that she was the one giving advice. “Go for it! Go for him! You cannot give up!”
“I’m not giving up,” Ri said sharply. She was trying to talk while she jogged toward the bus stop. “I’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked me. But he hasn’t asked me, and I’m not going to stalk the man. I won’t go where I’m not wanted.”
“You know he wants you!” Mei Lin insisted.
Ri didn’t answer. She did know it. But he didn’t.
She reached the bus stop. An older woman with skin, hair, and eyes just like Ri’s stood waiting. Ri smiled at her, and the woman smiled back.
Hanging with my peeps.
“I really have to go now,” Ri said. She didn’t like talking on the phone in public.
“Yes, yes,” Mei Lin answered impatiently. She talked on her own phone constantly, anywhere, anytime. “Some men are just dense, Ri,” she said sternly. “You have to be clear. I know that one week together is a little quick for the L word, but couldn’t you just tell him flat out that you feel like you have a real shot together?”
Ri’s eyes moved to the other woman at the bus stop, who could hear every word Mei Lin said. How embarrassing.
“Goodbye!” Ri said pleasantly, shutting the phone off. She stuffed it in her pocket and stared out at the nearby windmills.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” the woman murmured with amusement.
Ri’s head turned.
The woman threw her a motherly smile. “My grandma always said to me, if you love somebody, tell them. Can’t nobody else do it for you.”
Ri felt a sharp pang in her middle. She knew the woman meant to be helpful, and so did Mei Lin. She didn’t disagree with their advice. The problem was that she’d already taken it.
“I did tell him,” she said softly. “He just hasn’t answered.”
The woman’s eyes widened. But her face remained sympathetic as she smiled again. “It’ll turn out all right,” she said with a knowing wink. “You just wait and see.”
Chapter 33
Anchorage, Alaska 2016
Wolf pulled out his key to his dad’s house, then realized the front door wasn’t locked. It was stuck slightly ajar, as it had a tendency to do, and he could hear the dogs frisking around inside. Perhaps his father had come home for lunch. He rapped his knuckles on the door and swung it open. “Hello?”
He stepped into the entryway and was immediately accosted by two boisterous dogs. Soon afterward, Frieda rounded the corner from the back hall.
“Nels, what—” She stopped short. Her eyes widened and her face broke into a smile. “Wolf! I didn’t know you were coming today!” She stepped forward and gave him a quick hug, which was improvised somewhat due to dog interference.
Wolf held up his right hand and flexed all his fingers. “Got the splint off,” he announced happily. “Doc said the x-rays look good.” He did not add that if the doctor hadn’t removed the splint today, he was very likely to trash the thing regardless. The device he’d had applied by the orthopedist in Anchorage was less bulky than the one he’d gotten at urgent care on Maui, but it was no less annoying. Getting full use of his hand back had put him in a good mood. Not much else had done that the last few weeks.
“That’s great!” Frieda congratulated. “Your dad should be here in a little while, and you can have lunch with us. I’m making a chicken potpie.”
She moved off towards the kitchen and Wolf followed, petting two dogs’ bobbing heads as he went. “I didn’t expect to find you here on a Tuesday morning,” he admitted.
Frieda chuckled. “Well, I don’t haunt the restaurant quite as much these days. I have more staff to take care of things, now.” She peeked in the oven, then adjusted the temperature. “You want a drink or something?”
“Thanks, but I’ll get it,” Wolf offered, grabbing a can of cola from the refrigerator. He made a point of using his right hand, enjoying the feel of the cool metal against his newly naked fingers. He watched with admiration as Frieda puttered about, doing whatever incomprehensible things an expert cook did in her own kitchen. He had always admired Frieda’s talents, as well as her ambition. She had been only twenty-four years old when her first husband had been killed in a boating accident. But instead of curling into a ball and dying herself, she had used the life insurance settlement and her newly minted community-college business degree to open up a barbecue grill.
Wolf was glad she was home. The truth was, he had been wanting to talk to her.
“Can we sit down a minute?” he asked.
Frieda stopped puttering and looked at him. She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, and Wolf did the same. Unfortunately, now that he had her attention, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Seconds ticked by, and he said nothing. The moment turned awkward.
“You don’t look so good,” Frieda said gently.
Wolf looked away. He took a swig of cola. “Is it that obvious?” He could tell that she was nodding.
“You haven’t talked to Ri, I guess?” she asked.
Wolf’s breath caught. Even the sound of her name on someone else’s lips set his nerves on edge. He was supposed to be forgetting about her. Every day was supposed to be getting easier. Frosty Peak was as good as on the other side of the world from Ri’s sunny ocean bay — yet it made no difference. His assistant Justin read out gas flux measurements, and Wolf thought of Ri. The sun rose and set over banks over clouds, and Wolf thought of Ri. It rained in the middle of the night and the tent poles collapsed, and Wolf thought of Ri. A frickin’ dog barked, and Wolf thought of Ri. There was nothing in his daily existence, not even something as simple as making a sandwich or turning on a flashlight, that did not remind him of Ri. And it was not getting easier. If anything it was getting worse, because he accepted now that he’d been wrong. He wasn’t going to be able to forget her.
And he had no idea what to do about that.
“No, I haven’t talked to anyone.” He shrugged. “We’ve been camping most of the time. I can only communicate from Cold Bay.” He dared a look at Frieda and found her caring blue eyes boring into his own. He expected her to say something else, to give him some unsolicited advice, but she didn’t. She didn’t speak for a long time.
“Was there something you wanted to ask me?” she inquired finally.
Wolf tensed. But Frieda’s voice was mild, her expression friendly and approachable, as always. He had been the one who asked her to sit down. He needed to spit it out.
“
I wanted to thank you,” he offered.
She appeared surprised. “Thank me? For what?”
Her shock made Wolf feel even worse. Had he never thanked her for anything before? “For being here for the last ten years,” he said firmly. “For making Dad happy. For taking care of Bear. And for taking care of me. Even though I refused to acknowledge that it was the slightest bit necessary.”
Frieda grinned at him. “You were never any trouble, Wolfman. You did take care of yourself.”
Wolf shook his head. “I was a jerk to you, and we both know it. I treated you like a houseguest, not like my father’s wife. Certainly not like a stepmother. You deserved better than that, and I want you to know I’m sorry.”
Frieda’s smile broadened, even as her eyes moistened slightly. She reached a hand across the table and pressed it briefly atop Wolf’s own. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that. But it isn’t necessary. I understood what you were feeling. I know what you went through before I came along. And I don’t blame you for being cautious about accepting another woman into the family.”
Wolf felt that awful “laid bare” feeling again. Had Frieda really known? “If it means anything at all to you to hear me say it, then it was absolutely necessary,” he corrected. “And it’s not— I mean, you make it sound like—”
Frieda cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Wolf’s protests died on the vine. He didn’t know why he was bothering to defend himself. He had done exactly what she claimed throughout his entire childhood. He’d been constantly on guard, trying to keep all three men in the family from getting hurt. Specifically, sexist as it was, from getting hurt by a woman. And even more specifically, selfish as it was, he’d been guarding his own precious behind… never mind the cost to his dad.
Sheesh. He really was a jerk.
“I told myself I was looking out for Dad and Bear, but I was only thinking about myself,” Wolf admitted, thinking out loud. He looked Frieda in the eyes again. “I never saw how much Dad loved you, much less how much you loved him. It’s so obvious to me now, it’s hard to understand that kind of blindness. But I was always so sure you’d leave, just like my mother did. Just like all the others did. I didn’t want to care about you. I wanted to be vindicated.”
“I know that,” Frieda said mildly.
Wolf blew out a breath and hung his head with embarrassment. He rose and whirled away from the table. “Good God, Frieda. You should have just thrown my butt out of the house.”
Frieda chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic. You might have been thinking mean thoughts, but you were always sweet to me. I knew you’d grow up sometime and I knew what kind of heart you had. What kind of brother you were to Bear. Or should I say, what kind of mother. I couldn’t help loving you for that.”
Wolf turned back to the table. The dogs had started whining and prancing about his legs again, angling for a walk, but Wolf ignored them. He moved back to his chair and dropped down heavily. “Mother?”
Frieda nodded at him with a smile. “Now don’t go blaming your father for betraying a confidence, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s never said a word to me on the subject. But I care about you boys, and there are some things a woman just knows. Even though I never had kids of my own, I practically raised four siblings and two little cousins to boot — and good Lord, my cousins were so messed up they each counted as five.” She shook her head at the memory, rolled her eyes, then forged on. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve got a pretty good idea what went on when you boys were little. I know how old you were when your mother left, and how she left, and how that must have felt to you. And I know how old Bear was, both then and when he got attached to your father’s other girlfriends.”
Her blue eyes drank Wolf in with affection. “And I know from firsthand experience what a wonderful man Bear is now. He’s well-adjusted, happy, and emotionally secure. He has a warm, beautiful, open heart that isn’t afraid to love. And you know why that is?”
Wolf did not. He shook his head slowly.
“It’s because of you,” Frieda answered. “Your father did his share, don’t get me wrong. Your father’s a good, loving man and he certainly helped hold you together. But he’s not exactly the nurturing type, not when it comes to comforting a small child who misses his mama. After what Bear went through at that tender age, you might expect he’d be an emotional mess. But Bear’s just fine, Wolf. When your father thinks about the bad times, all he remembers is a blur, because it hurt him, too. That’s why he can’t see your role in it, even now. But I know what happened. You stepped in, Wolf, and you made yourself Bear’s mama. You gave that little boy the affection and the coddling he was craving, because you knew it’s what he needed.”
Frieda’s eyes looked moist again. “And you did a wonderful job. I’ve always wanted to thank you for that.”
Wolf felt odd. Hollow inside, yet heavy. He barely remembered the awful time when his mother had left. He had always tried not to think about it. “Bear doesn’t remember any of it,” he heard himself say.
Frieda shook her head knowingly. “If he doesn’t, that’s to your credit. You smoothed over the hurt. He might have lost his mother figures, but he always had his dad, and he always had you. He was okay. He is okay.” She rose. She stepped to Wolf’s side of the table and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You did that for him, Wolf. That’s why I’m so glad you’ve finally found a woman of your own to care about. I’m happy for you. I’m happy for her, too. She’s got herself a real keeper.”
Wolf felt dizzy at the change of subject. There was that word again. Happy. Had his entire family gone insane? “I’m not happy,” he objected.
They heard a noise on the front porch, and Suka and Tog raced toward the door.
Frieda gave his shoulder a squeeze, then blew out her breath with a sigh as she moved toward the oven. “You could be.”
Nels Markov stepped into the kitchen. “Wolf!” he said with surprise. “You didn’t say you were coming home today!”
Wolf repeated his explanation about the splint removal. Frieda finished pulling her potpie out of the oven, then walked over to his father. Nels greeted her with an arm out, and the two embraced affectionately, complete with a soft kiss on the lips.
Wolf watched the couple as if he’d never seen them before. Perhaps he hadn’t. Nels bore little resemblance to the painfully thin, stressed-out single father of Wolf’s childhood. That man’s forehead was always creased, his hands in seemingly constant, nervous motion. His clothes were untidy and his hair was unkempt. This man’s forehead bore no creases other than a few crow’s feet, he was always ready with a smile, and he was on the verge of growing a potbelly. His clothes were stylish and neat and his hair was clipped and feathered with gray over the ears.
“Since when did you start coming home for lunch in the middle of a work day?” Wolf asked. When Wolf was living at home, Frieda was always working at the restaurant, and his dad used to pack a lunch. Although their house was only a few minutes from Nels’ office, he’d only come home over the noon hour when the boys were on break from school.
Nels and Frieda shared a look. “Ever since Frieda’s been here to come home to, of course,” Nels answered with a smirk.
Wolf got that distinct “third wheel” feeling. It was like Maddie and Kai all over again. Only this was his dad.
He couldn’t decide how he felt about that.
Frieda giggled as Nels kissed her again.
Wolf decided he was okay with it.
Frieda isn’t going anywhere.
“Um… I guess I’d better be leaving.” Wolf rose.
“What?” Frieda looked horrified. “You are not going anywhere until you eat some potpie. Now sit back down!”
“Yes, sit down,” his father ordered. “Rob flew you in?” he asked, referring to a friend of the family who piloted regular trips to the Aleutians. When Wolf nodded, Nels gestured to the chair once more. “He can wait half an hour. I want to catch up with you a bit.”
/> Wolf sat down.
Frieda served them a delicious lunch. Wolf’s father asked questions about his work, and Wolf answered them. It was all very nice, very pleasant. But Wolf’s mind was not on the conversation. Although he’d been telling people for years that Frieda made his father happy, he realized that only now did he actually believe what he’d been saying.
His dad was happy. Fully, deeply, genuinely content with his life.
Just like Kai.
And that was no freakin’ coincidence.
Chapter 34
Lana'i, Hawaii, 2016
Ri ran her fingers lightly around the edge of a giant yellow hibiscus blossom. The flower, part of a live arrangement near the rear of the seating area, was perfect. Everything was perfect. She had only seen Dole Park in the center of Lana'i City once before, but she couldn’t imagine that the community greenspace had ever looked lovelier. Maddie and Kai had kept things simple with borrowed chairs and tables, and they had decorated the wedding canopy mostly with live plants and flowers that were already on the island. Perhaps that was why it all looked so lush and inviting. There was nothing synthetic, here. Nothing cut or pasted or dyed. Just living flowers, friendly people, and abundant good will.
Ri signed the guest book, then moved over to a patch of shade underneath a Cook pine. She looked around the assembling crowd, and a smile spread over her face as she caught sight of her cousin near the canopy. He looked amazingly handsome in a tuxedo, as she knew he would. They’d known each other only a little over a month, but it felt like so much longer. If she ever got more confirmation of a blood tie between them that would be fabulous, but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t care. She had been adopted into Kai’s family tree, past and present, without question or reservation, and that was a privilege she cherished regardless.
The two teenage boys standing near Kai, also in tuxedos, Ri assumed must be Maddie’s twin brothers. They were handsome devils, both of them, a fact which was obviously not lost on Kai’s youngest sister Gloria, who buzzed around them in a stunning strawberry-colored gown. Another young woman, wearing a similarly styled gown in bright peach, stood nearby, and Ri assumed she must be Kai’s other sister, Chika. Where Maddie was being cloistered, Ri had no idea. The wedding wasn’t due to start for a half hour, and there was no music yet. Ri heard only the happy chattering of the milling crowd and the soft trill of doves overhead. Then she heard herself sigh.
