“For all that helped,” Kevin mutters.
I cede his bitterness without comment. Ignoring the slight, I continue. “Uncle Dean and I had you, sweetheart. We didn’t need that toxicity in our lives.”
“That’s the truth.”
This is where it gets sticky. “But it left scars on me, sweetie.”
“What do you mean?” His hand reaches for mine.
“For years, I contacted Jennings to tell him about you through an old email account. Eventually, I stopped trying.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to move on, Kevin. I needed to focus on you in our then.” I take a huge breath. “And then Uncle Jed came to visit one day. Dean came to pick me up, and I swear to God, it was love at first sight.” I remember the chill that chased through me when they met.
Kevin picks up a rock and throws it. “When you saw Uncle Jed again, why didn’t you ask him to call him?”
A good question and one I was expecting. I try to explain it as best as I can. “Imagine if Brooks,” I say, naming Kevin’s best friend, “did something you didn’t agree with.”
“I’d like to think I’d do the right thing,” Kevin persists.
“You’d sell him out for the last chicken strip,” I mutter.
“Only if it’s Zaxby’s, Mom,” Kevin’s quick to assure me. “But deep down…”
“We all like to think we’d do something one way until we’re in a situation,” I inform him quietly. “And looking back, maybe we’d like to do things differently. But there’s too many people to change one thing to come up with a different answer: Jennings, Jed, Maris, me. For me to make this different for you, I’d have to go back in time.” I stare out over the water.
“Do you think he would have wanted me?”
Letting out a sigh, I admit, “Uncle Dean thought so.”
“I wish he was still here.”
“We all do, honey.”
“What else can you tell me about this Jennings?” There’s a faint resentment when he speaks Jennings’s name. I don’t press for now.
“I honestly don’t know a lot about him now. I know he didn’t have a great childhood. I’m frankly shocked he let in the Jacks enough to maintain the friendship he has over the years.”
“The Jacks?” Kevin asks, confused.
“It’s what Maris and I called your Uncle Jed, Jennings, and their friends Kody, Nick, and Brad. They’re closer than most brothers are. So, when Uncle Jed met you, it put him in a very difficult position.”
Kevin pulls away to face the glacier. “I’m sorry for that.”
“He never was,” I say confidently. Kevin whips around. “Time and again, he said he knew his brother well enough to bet on Jennings loving you; it was my fears over him losing that part of his family the way Dean and I lost our family that held me back. If it went wrong, I knew a part of his heart would hurt without them.”
“So, what made Uncle Jed change his mind?” Kevin chews on his lower lip.
“Remember when Uncle Dean and Uncle Jed came back to Alaska?” He nods, and I continue. “They came to rewrite Uncle Jed’s will and to see Maris.” Kevin’s body jerks next to me. “I know. It was something I never thought we would need. There were four circumstances under which we’d be having this exact conversation. I have to be honest, sweetheart, the one I expected was you’d simply ask me about him.” As an aside, I whisper, “God, do I wish it was that one.”
Kevin pushes to his feet and holds out a hand. I reach up and grab it. He wraps his arms around me, and the warmth of the sun beams down on both of us. As completely unrealistic as it is, I want to believe it’s Dean and Jed telling me it’s going to be all right—that we’ll be all right.
After a few minutes, I feel Kevin’s stomach rumble against me. “Hungry?” I reach up to cup his face.
“I don’t suppose we could continue this over food?” he asks hopefully.
“Fortunately, there’s a diner not that far away,” I tell him. “How about you and I get something to eat?”
He nods, and I let out a breath. If Kevin had turned down food, then I’d be worried. “I can’t promise I’ll have all the answers,” I warn him as we make our way back.
“That’s okay, Mom. You always were willing to listen to my questions. That’s the most important thing.”
And as we hike back, I have to surreptitiously wipe my fingers under my eyes. I have survived too much as of late to not appreciate the fact that my son held on to me with all of his might instead of pushing me away.
Like my own parents did.
Kara
I wait until after eleven to dial the number left in the papers Jed’s left me which were brought to the house after the will reading.
One ring. Two.
His dark voice answers, “Hello?”
I’m caught off guard, and my voice comes out shaky. “Jennings?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Kara Malone. I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
It’s Jennings’s turn to stutter. “No, I was just… Not at all. I’m just surprised to hear from you. I didn’t expect to so soon.” Silence descends between us.
Maris is outside with Kevin keeping him occupied. She’s pointing at a burned-out tree, likely telling the story of how I got hammered and thought it was a bear. He’s amused while she’s running behind it showing him how she jumped out and scared the piss out of me. Literally. I still have to figure out how to get back at her for that. Unfortunately for her, I have all summer to figure it out.
Jennings still hasn’t said a word, so I know it’s up to me to speak. Without beating around the bush, I tell him, “I spoke with Kevin.”
“Christ, how did it go?” The immediate leap to concern in his voice makes cold parts of me want to warm.
I’ve never been answerable to anyone about Kevin before, so I grit my teeth before articulating each word. “Most of it is private between me and Kevin. If he chooses to share with you at a later date, that’s between the two of you.”
There’s a weary “Right.” Then his magnetism leaps through the phone. “You said ‘if he chooses to share with you at a later date.’ Does this mean…?”
Pain tears through me. I know what I have to do. It doesn’t mean the pulsating ache in my heart that’s being caused out of devastation and regret is any easier to bear. I simply say, “How about joining us for breakfast tomorrow morning? Your son would like the opportunity to meet you.”
His voice is gruff when he replies, “Just let me know when and where, and I’ll be there. I promise.”
My voice is neutral when I remind him, “Please remember, you’re promising your son, Jennings, not me. I assume this is your cell phone number?”
“It is.” A pause. “How did you get it?”
“Jed left a letter for me to open in the event…”
“Right. Yes, Kara, this is my cell,” he confirms. “Would you mind sending me a message with your contact information? I don’t know if the information from your last email is current.”
I hold my tongue about him finally reading them and instead reply, “Of course.” Quickly, I slide my phone from my pocket and send him a text. “You should have received a text from a 904 number?”
“Just got…Jesus. You didn’t need to tell me it was Kara Malone.” He sounds aggravated.
“Just making certain you knew it was me,” I say with forced lightness. “After I let Kevin know we’ve confirmed tomorrow, I’ll text you when and where.”
There’s a long pause before I hear Jennings’s broken voice mutter, “I know it was what Jed wanted, but this was your decision—yours and our son’s. I can’t begin to tell you what it means.”
My head falls forward against the glass. Memories of how I once loved this man fill me. Maybe it’s that knowledge that precludes me from the natural wariness I normally maintain. “Just…do right by him, Jennings,” I whisper before I hang up the phone without saying goodbye.
Sliding my cell into my p
ocket, I walk over to the back door, lean on the rail, and yell, “Who wants me to cook for lunch?”
Kevin calls back, “Do they have fast food here?”
I nod and his face lights up. “McDonald’s or Subway.” I name the top choices, thinking that naming the local salmon spot wouldn’t be high on his list.
His lip curls a little. “There’s not a Zaxby’s?” he says, naming a popular chicken chain near our apartment in Florida.
Shaking my head, I school him not only about food choices but about life. “Sometimes, my darling boy, you’re going to find out that you have to make do with what you have because what you want isn’t available.”
He grumbles something I can’t hear, but Maris does. She laughs and slings an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to the stairs. “Come on, kid. You can decide on the way.”
“If we go to Subway, I can pile on all the fixings for a monster sub,” he jokes.
“That is if they have the same fixings as home,” Maris tells him seriously.
“Oh, come on,” Kevin whines. And while that would normally grate at my nerves, it sounds so beautiful to hear him act like a normal teenager, I let it slide. Because for this moment, we’re not thinking about the terrible things that have happened to our family, nor are we thinking about what the future is about to bring.
All I have on my mind is the exquisite Alaskan day for us to spend with each other. Tomorrow, and breakfast with Jennings, seems a long way off.
Kevin is waiting patiently to have an attendant refill his drink when Maris tells me, “I haven’t slept well remembering what I said to you,” she admits.
I reach for Maris’s hand. Keeping one eye on my son, I murmur, “I should have told him sooner.”
“Maybe. But you were hurting for a long time.”
I nod. “Yes, I was. But I grew up. Shouldn’t I have figured your brother was right and Jennings did too?”
“Maybe,” she concludes sadly. “God, now I have to feel guilty about how I treated him the other day.”
“When?”
“At the reading. I was less than kind.” But her blue eyes raise to mine. There’s a spark of the Maris I know and love hiding in the depths of them.
“Do I want to know?” I ask, seeing Kevin weave his way back over to us.
“I was perhaps a bit more peckish than I was with the others.”
“Including Nick?” I ask incredulously.
When she nods, I giggle. “Oh, God, I love you. I almost—almost—wish I’d been there to witness you there being your badass self. Thinking of that is almost as good as all the times I imagined him landing on his dick during the log roll when I pushed out Kevin,” I manage to wheeze out, making Maris screech in hysterics just as Kevin sits back down.
“What’s so funny?” he demands
“Maris just reminded me of something funny your father once did.”
“What was it?” he asks curiously.
“Oh, it was one of the acting things he did as a Lumberjack with Uncle Jed. Be sure to ask him,” I say with a hint of a wicked smile.
“That reminds me.” Kevin reaches for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a folded-over piece of paper and a pen. “I started to make a list of things to ask him,” he declares.
Maris lifts her head long enough to gasp, “He may look like Jennings, but he is completely your child through and through,” before she chortles.
Kevin frowns. I throw part of my sandwich roll at her. Ignoring Maris, I address my son. “I think you’ve done a great job, honey. How many questions do you have so far?”
“Forty-seven,” he announces.
“Can I be there when he interrogates him? Can I?” Maris makes it sound like it’s her fondest wish.
“No,” I tell her firmly. To, Kevin, I say, “Keep in mind, this is probably going to take some time. Your father wants to know about you too. As you think of things, keep adding questions to your list. Then, over time to get to know him. I’m sure there will be times when you may not know what to say, and if you get stuck, you can always ask a question?”
“Good idea, Mom. I’ll just keep adding more.” He thinks for a moment and writes some more.
While Kevin’s distracted, Maris lifts her head. She points at Kevin, then uses both hands to make the heart symbol, and then points at me.
I mouth back, “I know.” Because I do. No matter what, I know how much my son loves me. It’s just, what will the additional burden of having a father bring to him?
But sitting there with my son and my best friend, I can’t help but be tickled when I imagine what John Jennings would do if I did let his son interrogate him. And I have to stifle my laughter when Kevin keeps diligently writing.
Jennings
I arrived so early, I’m on my fourth cup of coffee while waiting for Kara and Kevin to show up at the crowded restaurant in downtown Juneau. I eye my cup warily; it wouldn’t surprise me if my server spit in my last refill. The last time he pressed me to order, I lost my temper and snapped, “How can I make it any clearer I’m waiting for someone?”
“Sure you weren’t stood up?” The lanky server is standing there holding a fresh pot.
“She would have called,” I say confidently, but my voice sounds jittery. Is that nerves or the copious amounts of caffeine infiltrating my veins?
“Hmm.” The waiter shrugs while cavalierly pouring, causing him to spill some on my paper placement.
Even as I’m mentally deducting another percentage from this guy’s tip, the door opens. My son steps inside and holds the door open for his mother. She smiles up at him as she passes by. I wonder who taught him such exquisite manners. Fiercely, I think, it should have been me, but quickly I deflate. What do I have left to teach him, Jed? I wonder.
The burly guy who seated me makes his way over to them. Kara tips her head way back and smiles, gesturing with her hands. He leans against the host stand and smiles down at her. Instead of bringing her my way, they start chatting. She motions for Kevin to join them.
My eyes narrow as the young man holds out his hand, lips moving. After taking it to shake, burly guy says something to Kara. She gestures in front of her, gesturing what? How large she got with our son while she was carrying him? Kevin pats Kara on the head; she elbows him in retaliation.
The man yanks her forward and gives her what appears to be a welcome hug.
Maybe it’s too much coffee, but there’s a churning in my gut as she returns it. Pulling back, she pats him on the chest before motioning in the direction of the dining room. But even as the moment I’ve been anticipating for days is about to unfold, I can’t hear anything over the roar between my own ears.
Kara’s still a beautiful woman, I try to tell myself dispassionately, but failing miserably. Did I ever notice the way the light catches the gold woven through her hair, or is that as new as the cut that swings when she turns her head from side to side? Annoyed at my thoughts, I’m sure if I’m noticing anything new, it’s probably just because I haven’t seen her in so long. Right, the voice inside my head mocks, keep telling yourself that.
When they reach the table, I notice the smile Kara’s wearing doesn’t illuminate the room the way I remember it could, but that’s most likely due to the circumstances of why we’re all here. It’s subdued, despite being friendly to the behemoth next to her.
Surging to my feet, I experience doubt so swift it almost sends me back into my chair. How do I introduce myself to my son?
Kara isn’t as flustered. “Thank you, Wenzel. It was great to see you after so many years,” she concludes warmly.
“You too, Kara. I wish it was under better circumstances. Nice to meet you, Kevin.”
“Thank you, sir,” my son acknowledges respectfully before his body shifts in my direction. All manners drop from his demeanor when he whispers, “Whoa.”
Kara lays a hand on his arm as she greets me. “Hello, Jennings. I appreciate you being able to join us on such short notice.” She holds out her
hand for me to shake.
“Kara. It’s good to see you again.” I immediately take her hand, trying to help her demonstrate to our son there’s no animosity between his parents. I’m not surprised by the delicate bones beneath my fingers. What I’m shocked by is the dance of awareness I only feel when I’m sitting behind the stick to flutter up my arm.
She yanks hers away. Her eyes grow large which is what earned her the nickname “Owl” so many years ago. She felt it too; I just know it. Before I can say anything, she covers her response by smiling up at the younger version of me. “And this is Kevin Jennings Malone.”
There’s no air. Someone stole it all because the room’s spinning crazily around me. I’m still reeling over the fact she named her son after me despite everything.
My son narrows his eyes down at his mother. “Who,” she continues, unperturbed by the insolent face, “has a number of questions he’d like to ask you. I hope you understand.”
“Of course. Kevin, it’s my absolute pleasure to meet you.” I don’t expect him to say the same, so I’m not surprised when he doesn’t. He does take my extended hand in a firm grip. More regrets pile up when I realize it was likely Jed or Dean who taught him to maintain eye contact until he releases the grip.
“Please sit,” I encourage them both. “If you’d like the booth side, I’m happy to switch.”
Kara waves her hand to hold me in place. “You’re settled; don’t be silly.”
“As you may remember, I’m rarely that.” My voice is low. Where is this need to tease her coming from? I wonder even as Kara’s head jerks in response.
Her lips part in shock, but before she can react, Kevin pipes up, “Mom, can I have coffee?” There’s almost despair in his voice.
“More?” Kara says incredulously. “You polished off half the pot at Maris’s this morning.”
I want to call the waiter over, I want to slide my own drink across the table that Kevin’s sending covetous glances at, but I don’t have the right to intervene.
Return by Air (Glacier Adventure Series Book 1) Page 11