Return by Air (Glacier Adventure Series Book 1)

by Tracey Jerald

  “What did you feel when you saw Kara again?” Rainey asks me hours later. She passes me the second tequila bottle. Kody’s passed out on the floor in front of us.

  “What do you mean?” I take a pull before handing it back to her. I know I’m going to be sick as hell later, but numbing my brain and my heart may be worth the price.

  “It’s not a hard question, Jennings, and you’re not a stupid man,” she snorts. “What was it like to see Kara?”

  “Why?”

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  I finish up my beer. “When I don’t want to answer it, yes.”

  Brad walks up from the basement with the last six-pack of beer, announcing, “I can’t guarantee this hasn’t gone skunk.”

  “Can you get him to answer a question?” Rainey asks.

  “On occasion. Why?”

  “I want to know what it was like for him to see Kara.”

  “Just don’t call her any names,” he warns his wife. “Jennings took a swing at Nick for daring to call her a—”

  “And that’s enough out of you,” I declare. But Rainey’s face twists as she starts to think. And drunk thinking is a bad thing with this woman.

  “You took a swing at Nick,” she concludes, breathless.

  “It wasn’t a big deal. He made a completely uncalled-for comment.”

  But Rainey sets her curls dancing by swinging her head back and forth. “Jennings, do you remember the last time you took a swing at Nick?”

  Brad mutters, “Ah, crap. I forgot about that,” before he falls onto the couch next to his wife.

  “Who knew? It was likely—” But my body locks as the memory is plucked out of the recesses of my mind. “He hit on Kara first,” I whisper.

  “And you dragged him to the Smiths’ backyard and began flailing at him because of it,” Rainey reminds me. “I was there, remember? Kara had moved in, what, maybe two weeks earlier, honey?”

  “Something like that,” Brad confirms.

  The room is spinning between the crazy amount of alcohol I’ve consumed and the realization that “I’ve maybe messed up my life to such a degree there may be no coming back,” I groan.

  A voice from the stairs startles all of us. “There’s always redemption, Jennings. Didn’t Jed teach all of us that?” Nick crosses over to where we’re sitting before taking the bottle of tequila away from Rainey. Tipping it back, he pours the clear liquid down his throat like it’s water. “The question is are you going to waste it?”

  “I don’t even know where to start. I need help,” I admit.

  Nick claps slowly. “It takes some of us longer to learn than others.”

  I throw him the middle finger before I turn to the one couple whose love I’ve been constantly exposed to that has lasted no matter what has come along to try to fuck it up. “What do I do?”

  Brad goes to open his mouth, but before he can speak, Rainey reaches up and clamps his lips together. Holding them together like they’re a duck, she speaks. “What does she want you to do?”

  “Wait.” Frustrated, I push myself to my feet and step over Kody to pace. “She wants me to wait until she talks to our son to explain everything. But I want to know everything about him.”

  Brad bats Rainey’s hand away. “Where are the emails Kara sent you?”

  “Hold on.” Moving into the foyer, I grab my overnight duffle. I pull out the emails and hand them over. As Kody lights up the room with his snoring, Brad reads one, then passes it to Rainey, who passes it to Nick.

  Finally, it’s Nick who speaks. “How long are emails kept?”

  “I don’t know, why?’ I answer.

  He shoves a printout under my nose. “Because, you moron, Kara attached files to these. Maybe there’s a way to get to know your son without having to wait.”

  Immediately, I turn to Brad. “Can I use your computer?”

  “Up the stairs. Second door on the right. Password to my login is ‘Lumb3rjack!’”

  Nick snickers, but I don’t waste any time until I hear Rainey call my name. “Yes?” I pause with my foot on the bottom step.

  She bites her lip worriedly. “You’re anxious. I get that; I would be too. But if I can be honest?”

  “Always,” I encourage her.

  “Kara’s not the same woman she was all those years ago. From an emotional standpoint, she’s light-years ahead of you. It’s part of motherhood. So, please listen. Focus on her words and what she’s saying,” Rainey pleads. “It was unintentional, but life hasn’t been easy. The charm you won her with the first time isn’t going to work now—either with her or her son.”

  “What will?” I ask starkly.

  Rainey’s expression is helpless. “I don’t know. But if at the cornerstone isn’t faith and trust, you’ll never know what it really means to be a father.”

  Before I leave, I admit my true regret to all of them. “I wish I’d let Jed talk me down to Florida well before now.”

  “It’s always easier to look back and wish time back,” Nick says quietly. For the briefest moment, the demons that live deep within my friend surface. “But unfortunately we can’t. All we can do is move on, however life lets us.”

  I nod before heading upstairs to be alone with Kara and, hopefully, my son.

  There are well over forty thousand emails sitting in my webmail account. “I suppose I should be grateful it’s not higher,” I say with disgust as I delete another batch before moving on to another. Another click deletes hundreds of messages.

  It takes me another hour until I’m left with twenty-nine messages from Kara’s different email accounts spanning ten years. I’m so damn grateful this freaking free mail server keeps messages as long as your account is considered valid and that I kept up with all my required password changes that would hit my legitimate email address. I just wish I had bothered to scan the messages that were waiting, but I didn’t think there was anything important waiting for me.

  If I only knew.

  My fist clenched at my side, I click on the first message I see from Kara in October almost sixteen years ago. It’s simple and to the point.

  Jennings,

  This is the second time I’ve tried to email you. I’ve also tried to call you, but I’m not certain if you recognize the number. To be honest, I don’t know if I have the right number. I no longer have my cell phone. I’ve left messages, but I’m not certain if you’re checking them. It’s imperative you contact me as soon as you can.

  Thank you,

  Kara

  I grit my teeth, realizing the first message must have fallen off the server. “Hell, I should be grateful this many are still here.” Scanning the message, I see she left me a number with a 904 area code and her address. Broodingly, I contemplate the screen. Would I have known? With Kara’s direct, no-nonsense email, would I have understood? “I’d like to think so,” I murmur before clicking on the second one.

  It was sent Christmas Day.

  Jennings,

  I don’t know if you received my first two emails. I’m hoping you check your messages today due to the holiday; at least I hope so. Email isn’t how I want to break this news, so please contact me as soon as you can. There are things you need to know and information I need to have.

  Thank you,

  Kara

  “How far along were you at that point, Kara?” My voice is jagged. I click on the next message dated March 28—a little over fifteen years ago. And it gives me the answer.

  Jennings,

  God, I hope I’m writing the correct email, because this is the only way I have to contact you. The number I’ve been calling has been disconnected.

  I do however believe it’s your right to know about your child. He was born on March 25 at 9:03 AM after an eighteen hour labor.

  I named him Kevin, after my paternal grandfather. I would have consulted with you, but I haven’t heard from you. His full name is Kevin Jennings Malone. He weighs 8 pounds, 2 ounces.

  My
contact information remains the same for now. If it changes, I will let you know.

  Kara

  This time, there’s a .jpg attachment. With shaking fingers, I use the mouse to double-click on the file. And then he’s there on Brad’s enormous monitor.

  I can only suspect it was her brother who took the picture, but there he is, my son being held by his mother in the first few hours after his birth. Kara’s smiling weakly at the camera. “My baby,” I croak. “My son.”

  “So there were pictures.” Nick stands in the entrance to the door. He’s holding two mugs, one which he hands to me, and I take it gratefully.

  “Look at him,” I whisper as I turn back to the monitor. “He’s so tiny.”

  “Does Kara tell you how big he was?”

  I nod dumbly, still entranced by the photo.

  “What do you want to do?” he asks me quietly.

  “I want to find some way to turn back the clock.”

  “Since that’s not possible, what’s your next option?”

  I zoom in on the photo of Kara and Kevin. Even though there’s a joy on Kara’s beautiful face, I can still see the fear marring what should have been the most perfect moment of her life. “I hate that you were so afraid. I hate I wasn’t there for you both. I’m so sorry,” I say aloud.

  “That’s where you start,” Nick shoves to his feet.

  “What?” I’m too fascinated by the tiny bundle that became my son and the brave woman who carried him.

  “By figuring out a way to say you’re sorry.” Nick’s simple wisdom is exactly what I needed to hear. Absorbing that once again, I decide to press my luck and ask something that’s been niggling at me.

  “Hey, Nick? Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. My wisdom is always available for you.” His condescending smirk makes an appearance.

  But it falls from his face when I ask, “Why did Jed leave you his cross?”

  For a moment I wonder if he’s going to storm off without answering. Finally he responds, “You’re not asking me something I haven’t wondered a thousand times already. By rights, he should have left it to Maris. She found it with her grandfather when the three of them were on vacation together.”

  I let out a low whistle. It’s my only response.

  “Jed told me once his grandfather believed his luck changed after he wore it,” Nick says absently.

  “Did he?”

  “Yeah.” Nick lets out a rough sound. “I tried to convince Maris to take it back in the parking lot. That didn’t go over well.”

  “No?” I can’t imagine it would have since everyone except Nick has recognized Maris has been in love with him for twenty years.

  “I would have thought she would want this part of her family back.” He frowns, bewildered. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Holler if you want any more of that.” He nods at my cup and leaves me to my email and my photos.

  For the next several hours, I don’t leave the computer. I open each of the messages Kara sent to me.

  Jennings, I know you wanted to fly. Well, I just gave Kevin his first airplane today. She attached a photo of a dark-haired toddler holding a stuffed airplane.

  Jennings, There are too many of you in the US for me to track you down in any other way. And I can’t afford to hire a private detective. I’m so sorry… I curse loudly when I read her apology on Kevin’s third birthday along with a picture of him blowing out the candles.

  Jennings, At first I wasn’t sure who he looked like, but by now it’s obvious it’s you. With a picture of Kevin all dressed up for his first day of school as a kindergartner.

  Jennings, Jennings, Jennings… All of the emails have the same polite informative tone.

  Until the last one.

  Jennings,

  Tonight I have to let you go. I have to move on. I just want to say thank you for this gift, this miracle.

  Science tries to explain the miracle of parenthood, but they can’t. Until I had Kevin, I thought I could, but I never knew. And I feel so terribly sorry you don’t have that.

  Maybe someday you’ll understand the beauty of a simple hug from someone who’s very heart exists because yours does. I hope you do because there’s nothing quite like what I’m feeling right now. Kevin knows something’s not quite right and his only aim is to make it better.

  It won’t make any sense to you, but I’m confused and upset because I’m preparing to do something I’m not quite ready to do, Dean’s excited by it for me, but I’m not sure I’m ready.

  Is there a time I ever will be?

  I hope you understand this will be my last email. I have to let you go. I have to move on. I suspect our lives will intersect someday in the future when Kevin asks me more about his father. But I need a shot at finding out who Kara Malone is.

  Since I know you’re not reading these, this makes no sense to you. And that’s okay. Your email account has been a good place for me to talk to all these years.

  If you eventually find these and want to get to know Kevin, all I ask is for you to please do me the kindness of reaching out to me first.

  Kara

  “How do I go about winning back the trust of a good woman?” I whisper to the room as dawn seeps into the sky. “How do I show my son I’m someone worth knowing when right now I’m not even sure about that myself?”

  I forward all of the emails to my work account before closing out of the mail application. Then I shut down and make my way downstairs to get a few hours’ rest.

  Rainey was right. The next part isn’t up to me. It’s up to the mother of my son. All I have the right to do is wait.

  Kara

  “Mom?” Kevin knocks on the door to my bedroom hours after my confrontation with Maris. “Are you okay in there? I brought you some stew.”

  God, my son is such a good kid, I think as I sit up beneath the blanket I’ve been curled under since I finished my latest letter to my brother. “Come on in, baby,” I call out.

  “I’m not exactly a baby,” he teases as he pushes the door open with a tray in one hand.

  “No, you’re not, are you?” My heart aches as I study him.

  Having just seen Jennings, I’m struck more than ever by how much Kevin has inherited from him: his hair, his eyes, his height, the cut of his jaw. I push up to a sitting position so he can set the tray across my lap before he does something that reminds me he’ll always be my little boy—he climbs into the bed next to me.

  “It’s going to get better, right?” Hearing the anguish in his voice over a nightmare few experience at his age slays me.

  How is one little man supposed to endure this much pain? Especially with the addition of what I’ll have to tell him? “It will. Somewhere down the road, maybe.”

  He tucks his head into the curve of my shoulder. “Are you glad to be here?” His voice trembles as he asks a question aloud that’s obviously been preying on his mind when there’s already too much there.

  “Yes and no. I wish it was by choice,” I answer truthfully. After Dean and Jed’s death, Kevin’s anxiety spiked—something I’m truly concerned about with the addition of adding Jennings into his life. At what point is all of this going to be too much for him to handle? I wonder desperately.

  Kevin relaxes fully against me. His arm snakes around my stomach, and I stroke his hair. “You used to do this when you were a little boy,” I murmur, before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Wrinkling my nose, I add, “Did you shower today?”

  He shrugs. “Why bother? It’s not like I’m planning on going anywhere.”

  “Except for the fact that you and your teenage boy stench are now fouling up my sheets?” I tease.

  He tips his head back and he grins, popping out a small dimple he also inherited from his father. Then a white-hot rush of panic floods through me. Mine—he’s always been mine.

  Analytically, I know Kevin has an equal number of chromosomes from both his father and me, but it’s hard to reconcile that emotionally, especially after
speaking with Jennings. If it weren’t for the small spray of freckles across Kevin’s nose both Dean and I had, Kevin would be Jennings’s mirror image when it comes to his looks.

  But his heart? What will finding this out do to the precious heart I nurtured for fifteen years? I squeeze him closer to me, whispering, “Why couldn’t you stay a little baby?”

  “Mom?” His confusion is evident.

  “Just feeling emotional, sweetheart.” Fumbling for a reason, I remind him, “Soon, you’re going to be off to college. What am I going to do then?”

  “I’ll always be with you, Mom,” Kevin vows, laying his head back down.

  Hugging him tighter, I raise my eyes to the popcorn ceiling that’s been in this room since I first rented it from the Smiths. Again pressing a kiss to the top of his slightly greasy hair, I relish the moment, even as I cringe a little. “How many more chances will I have to do this?”

  “As many as you want,” Kevin assures me.

  We lie in comfortable silence until Kevin asks, “Is everything okay with you and Maris?”

  “Yes and no.” I refuse to lie. There are times when I’ll delay telling him the truth, but if I do, I’m honest about why.

  “It will be okay,” he reassures me.

  “What makes you so certain?”

  “Because Maris is family,” he says simply. “The last family we have. Nothing she did can be worse than losing her forever. Right?” He blinks up at me questioningly.

  Hearing those words from Kevin puts a lid on the cauldron of seething emotions that have been swirling around in my head. Because he’s right. Nothing is worse than death. “You know what, Kevin? I forget sometimes you might not look a lot like me, but you’re smarter than I could ever dream of being.” I squeeze him tightly. “Let’s go find Maris before she heads to the bar, then how about you and I plan a day together tomorrow. There’s someplace special I want to show you.” And something important I need to tell you, I add silently.

  Kevin rolls off the bed and holds out his hand. “Sounds great. But I wouldn’t say I don’t look like you, Mom,” he counters.

  “Oh?” I squeeze his hand as we leave my now cold stew sitting on the bed to make our way down to the main living area.