And the time to get on my knees thanking his mother for the chance.
Nine exhausting hours later, I’ve left my lawyer’s office in downtown Seattle. I’m running on fumes and a residual anger at the people who persisted in trying to “present you with the best advice on how to protect yourself, Mr. Jennings. Ms. Malone could…”
I slammed my hand down on the conference room table. “Just do it,” I snarled.
“Ms. Malone raised your son with next to nothing, and should she choose, she could slap you with a financial request which would bleed you dry,” another associate tried to explain.
“That’s not the type of woman she is,” I argued.
Even as I pressed them to make changes to change my estate, they urged me to take documents up to her to have her sign them, relinquishing all rights against Northern Star Flights. “We understand she’s asked for nothing, but she still can,” one of the associates pressed.
But by that point, my patience had snapped. “She doesn’t even know I’m here!” I yelled, before the room got quiet. “Kara just lost her brother and her brother-in-law. It was because of them I even know I have a son. This woman single-handedly raised my son into a strong, intelligent young man. Screw liability; this is something I need to do.” I dropped back in my seat.
“Everyone out,” Reginald Silas, partner of the firm, barked. “Let me talk with Jennings privately.”
The rest of the people scurried. Finally, it was just the two of us before he asked, “How did it feel to see Kara again?” Reg was a first-year Lumberjack the summer I dated Kara.
“She’s just as smart as she was when we knew her. And she’s an amazing mother.” I admitted. “Then to add Kevin to the mix—”
“That’s his name? Kevin?”
I nodded. “Named after her paternal grandfather.”
He toyed with his pen before asking, “Why do I sense there’s something else you’re not telling me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did her brother and brother-in-law dying mean you finding out about your son?”
“Because Jed was her brother-in-law.”
Reg’s pen went skidding across the table. “Are you kidding me?” he rumbled as he tries to regain his composure. “How long did he know?”
“A few years from what the letters he left me indicate,” I admitted.
“And you had no clue?” he pressed.
“None,” I said firmly.
“Jesus, Jennings. This means Jed’s gone?” Reg’s face was paper white.
“Yeah, man.” We were both silent for a moment thinking of our own memories. “If you don’t mind wrapping up these changes to my estate, I’d like to head back to my place so I can meet with Lou tomorrow to deal with work crap. I really want to spend every possible minute in Alaska.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have everything ready for you to sign by Sunday or you can forget the bill.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But back to my original question—”
“There have been so many tonight, I’m not sure which one you’re referring to,” I told him in all honesty.
“How was it to see Kara again?”
This time, I handed him the answer I knew he was waiting for. “Every memory slammed into me like it was yesterday. She’s barely aged a day.”
Standing, he gave me a similar truth to the one Rainey did only a few days before. “She was a good woman.”
Pushing myself to my feet, I rounded the table and headed for the door. “She’s a good mother,” I concede. I’m not willing to admit more than that.
“Don’t let this chance pass you by,” he offered.
Stilling, I whirled to face him as he gathered notepads and pens left by his terrified employees. “Are you saying I should hit on the mother of my child?” I demanded.
He paused before dropping the stack of notepads in front of him. “No, I’m saying you should see if there’s a spark there. She’s a rare woman, Jennings, and she’s always going to be in your life now. You figure out the rest.”
I opened and closed my mouth before slipping from the conference room. Without a word, I hurried past Reg’s loitering and made my way to the elevator. But Reg’s words sounded so much like something Jed would say to me, they reverberated over and over in my head long after I made my way back to my condo.
Pulling into the underground parking, I see Kody’s car is long gone since he and I parted ways at the airfield. Soon, it will be me who’s gone. Two more days.
Then I’ll be back in the air, back to Alaska. And getting a shot at the family I never expected to have.
Jennings
I step outside Warm Up with a large Red Eye in one hand, a scone in the other, desperate to find a place to sit in the back courtyard for a few moments to gather my thoughts.
It’s been an intense few days between seeing Kara again, meeting Kevin, and flying back to Alaska with a very different outlook than I did when I landed just last week.
After putting in hours of work this morning, I needed to get away from the B&B for a while. I wanted alone time to drive around and experience Juneau without anything interfering with my thoughts. Over and over, I kept thinking so much had changed, but here and there would be something that would remind me of Kara. Despite how much has changed, I easily recognize different places Kara and I went on dates and got lost in each other. We’d laugh for hours over silly things when she didn’t do silly. She pulled out the serious in me, when I swore I wasn’t going to do serious.
And then, I went out to her glacier. Standing there, it took everything in me not to howl at the sky in agony. “She gave up her dreams of you.” Unable to tolerate being in her sacred place, I hiked back. Shivering in the car, I found myself in desperate need of caffeine and a moment to regroup.
Just as I step off the rickety back steps, I freeze in place. It’s like some mysterious longing reached out to her because there’s a familiar ash-brown head bowed over a laptop as she frantically types. One I didn’t expect to see until our prearranged dinner tonight with our son.
Slowly, so I don’t startle her, I ask Kara, “Is this seat available?”
Her head nods toward it without looking up. Amused, I straddle the picnic bench. She’s still hammering away, absorbed in whatever has her attention. Unwrapping my scone, still warm from the oven, I break off a piece and place it on a napkin. I slide it across the table to see what she’ll do.
I wonder if her response to me will be as instinctive as mine is to her, I think fleetingly.
Absentmindedly, Kara reaches over and grabs a bite with a muttered “Thanks, Ace,” shoving the chunk in her mouth before she comes of her stupor to comprehend what she said. “Uh, hi” is mumbled around a bite of chunky scone. She flushes before offering me a tentative smile.
“Hey,” I say before taking my own bite. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yeah. I just needed some time away without bombs exploding or phones ringing.” There’s a subtle bruising beneath Kara’s eyes I would wish away if I could. “Are you getting acclimated?” she asks conversationally.
I nod down to her laptop, both answering her question and teeing up my own. “I went out to the glacier today.” I couldn’t be more stunned by her response when she lifts a fist to her mouth and presses it there. I go on, unable to pull the words back, but not entirely certain why I should. “I remember when you’d get lost for hours writing down theories about climate change and how it would affect the glacier. Have you been out there yet?”
“Twice,” she whispers, her eyes lowering to her laptop screen. “I was just telling someone all about it.”
Shit. “I’m sorry, Kara. If you’re talking to a friend, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Well, I did, but not like this.
Her face takes on a look of tremendous pain. “I was typing an email to a man who will never get it, Jennings.” I freeze, wondering if she means me, when she whispers, “I just can’t bear to close down his email address. Not now, maybe no
t ever.”
“Your brother?” I guess.
She nods. Her fingers run over the top of her laptop. “He’s the only one I’ve ever been able to talk with about anything.” Her voice is modulated, but beneath it, I detect a wealth of hurt she hasn’t let go of.
“I didn’t have brothers or sisters. Well, other than the guys. So, I can only partially understand what you’re feeling.”
“I remember you talking about growing up with your aunt and uncle. You’re not close with them?”
I shake my head. “They passed several years ago.” And the only good thing they did for me was leave me the farm so I could sell it off to fulfill my dreams, but I don’t mention that. I’m not certain Kara would understand the ease with which I was able to do that when she’s sitting here mourning.
Kara opens her mouth, a perplexed expression on her face. It’s one I’m familiar with as in the past it was a precursor to a question being asked, but she must change her mind. Instead, she volunteers, “Dean, he was everything to me. It’s funny how people come and go in your life, but I never missed anyone since I had Dean. And now, I miss everything.” She looks away.
I want to ask her if she missed me, but I gave up that right a long time ago. I spent all weekend remembering our discussions about the things we wanted from our lives. I cursed myself over and over for thinking she was just a woman meant to pass through my life as I packed to return to Alaska. Now, it’s too damn bad we’re in no place where I can explain what I’ve been thinking. I hold my words in, instead urging her to unburden herself with my silence.
“We used to talk every day. I’m not ready to let that go yet because …”
“Because?” I probe softly.
She hesitates before the corner of her lip quirks. “How do you let go of the person who read you bedtime stories? Who read them to your son? Who would have sacrificed anything for you?”
“I don’t think you can,” I tell her honestly.
“So, you don’t think I’m crazy for writing to my dead brother, telling him all about the emotional intensity of introducing my son to his father?” she challenges.
I rub my fingers back and forth over my beard, gently pulling. “People journal. They write letters and burn them. Both things are cathartic; why is this any different?” I respond.
A less tense silence falls between us. So, I try to change the topic away from her grief. “How’s Kevin?”
And that’s when I realize my tactical mistake. Because while Kara has aged beautifully, motherhood has made her stunning. Her lips curve slowly. Her eyes, shimmering with tears, become as bright as the sun. And as she passes a hand through her hair, her high cheekbones stand out.
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable at the instantaneous reaction I have to her. “Jed’s probably howling,” I mutter.
“Why do you say that?” An adorable V brings her brows together.
I scramble for an answer that won’t have the dregs of whatever she’s drinking thrown in my face but still isn’t a lie. “Because we’re acting like strangers, Kara,” I say diplomatically.
“In many ways, we are, Jennings,” she returns. “But I get your point. What do you want to know?”
Are you dating anyone? immediately comes to mind, but I suppress asking that. Instead, I take us to more neutral ground. “What grades do you teach?”
“Tenth through twelfth. That includes most physics and AP Physics classes. Well, other than the one Kevin will take next year. His is a college course that we got special permission from the county for him to take,” she brags.
I sit back stunned. “That must be hundreds of students.”
“About two hundred.” She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal, when it clearly is. “I enjoy it.”
“More than you would have enjoyed being up here at Mendenhall? You were all I could think of when I was at the glacier,” I blurt out stupidly.
Our eyes collide and the noise from the other patrons disappear. We could be anywhere or nowhere. I know exactly what Kara’s thinking because the thoughts are going through my head as well. We’re in this precarious situation where we’re far from trust, but there’s a bond between us we can’t eliminate. We’re going to be in each other’s lives, for better or worse.
I retract my question. “I’m sorry, Kara. You don’t have to answer that.”
“There’s still a long way for us to go before I’ll be comfortable sharing those kinds of feelings.” She rubs her wrist, and I ache for everything she gave up.
If you’d only been there, I beat myself up again. Instead all I say is, “I understand.”
“How can you, Jennings?” she snaps. Rubbing her hand across her forehead, she apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself these days. That wasn’t fair. There’s still so much you can do for Kevin, needs I can’t meet for him emotionally.”
“It seems to me, Kara, you’ve given him everything.”
“Thank you, but he was beginning to change even before…all of this. Now, I’m petrified everything that’s happened at such a crucial time—when he’s about to become a man—is going to mark him.” Her frustration is evident in every word.
Propping my chin on my hand, I lean forward. “And that, right there, is how I know you’ve given our son everything, because you love him. There are children who aren’t quite so lucky in this world.”
Her eyes flare at my words. “Jennings…”
I lean back and pick up my coffee and the remainder of my scone. Standing, I nod down to her computer. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner?”
“I…yes.”
“Is there anything I can bring?”
“If you don’t want to listen to your son whine about being hungry, feel free to bring anything to shove in his mouth while I finish up cooking,” Kara replies drolly, her composure completely restored which is a shame. I rather like when I can shake it up and find my Kara beneath this calm demeanor.
Wait. My Kara? Where is this coming from? I crumble up the paper before stuffing it into the disposable cup. “Then I’ll see you later. Oh, and Kara?” She freezes in the act of opening her laptop lid. “I suspect somehow, some way, your brother is actually reading those letters. Would you mind passing along my gratitude to both him and Jed?”
Her lower lip trembles, so she bites it to prevent the emotions coursing through her from letting loose. Instead of responding, she nods.
“I’ll see you tonight.” With a side wave, I start to head back through Warm Up to where my rental is parked. Now, I just have to figure out where a grocery store is.
But when I pause at the threshold to make certain Kara’s okay, she’s already typing again. This time, there’s a small smile playing about her lips. I wonder what she’s telling her brother about me, I think fleetingly.
Really, it doesn’t matter. What matters is knowing that for a moment I helped chase away the void of despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. Feeling something unusual in the region of my chest, I weave my way through the throng of people waiting for their custom-made coffee and out the front door.
Kara
“Is it possible for you two to behave yourselves? I feel like the two of you have regressed in age,” I say exasperatedly to Maris. Jennings just texted me to let me know he was on his way.
His reply text of I told you I’ll be on time; I keep my promises. pleased me. For Kevin, I told myself firmly.
Meanwhile as I’m pulling chicken casserole out of the oven, Maris bats her eyelashes. “Mommy, I’ll be good. I swear.”
Kevin chooses that moment to return to the kitchen. He snorts. “You look like you’re hunting your prey like on that show we watched on National Geographic. Remember? It was the one where the female ripped the male’s head right off.” I stumble with the heavy pan because of the outrage on Maris’s face. “Honestly, Jennings seems decent.”
Indignation replaces the false sweetness on my best friend’s face. “Did your son just tell me—”
“Mom, Maris
is being—”
Dropping the two-ton casserole onto waiting trivets, I wipe my hand across my sweaty brow before glaring at the two individuals who have somehow morphed into toddlers within moments because of a man who has been back in our lives for what seems like a nanosecond. “Stop it right now, or I swear I’m not frying up neflies to go with these,” I warn.
That shuts the two of them up simultaneously. “That’s—” Maris starts before she wisely shuts her mouth.
My son is less diplomatic. “Mean. Cruel. You can’t promise a man heaven of bacon-fried dough and then rip that glory from him,” he declares dramatically.
“Then you and Maris had better watch yourselves. Here’s the ground rules for tonight,” I announce just as the doorbell rings. “Crap,” I mutter.
Maris and Kevin look at each other before shrugging. “I guess it’s whatever happens, happens,” Maris calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room.
“I haven’t begun heating the pig fat yet!” I shout after her. “You have to earn it!”
A second later, she’s bringing a confused Jennings after her. “I have to earn pig fat. I have to say, I don’t know how to do that. Does it involve singing or dancing because you might remember I’m not really that great at either of those,” he reminds me.
I don’t know who starts laughing first, but within seconds, Kevin’s back is against the fridge to hold him up and Maris is leaning against the doorjamb for support. And I put my hand down to brace myself, not realizing my arm’s about to brush against the heating electric skillet. “Ouch!” I yelp, jumping back.
Jennings drops the bag he’s holding and is at my side in seconds. “Let me see,” he urges as he cradles my arm against his chest.
“It’s nothing,” I stammer, despite the nagging ache beginning to spread.
“Kara, let me take a look. Please? If it’s something serious, I want to be able to get you help.” Jennings’s face is pale.
Despite the annoying throb which will likely linger for days, I want to reassure Jennings I’ll be fine and have him let me go. Him holding me is causing more issues than the annoying burn. “Fine.” There’s a part of me that wants to shake him off and just finish cooking dinner, but the blood pounding through my head is making me a little light-headed.
Return by Air (Glacier Adventure Series Book 1) Page 13