by Melinda Minx
“Fuck,” I whisper. I don’t want my voice to carry far enough for Jane to hear me.
Can I really just hide? How can I be a father to Noah, and how can I consider picking things up with Elisabeth knowing that Aldus’s dark shadow is looming over all of us?
Jane has a point, though. What the fuck am I going to do? Drive down to Seattle and go after him with a gun in one hand, an axe in the other?
I haven’t even fired a gun since Iraq. I long ago traded in the gun for the axe, but to protect my family, I’d arm myself to the teeth if needed.
I focus on my breathing, and I decide to deal with one thing at a time. I can’t have a family with Elisabeth and Noah if I don’t go talk to Elisabeth first. I’m done with work at noon, so I can go see her during her lunch break.
12
Elisabeth
I finish lunch at 12:15, and need to be back in the office by 12:30. I couldn’t focus on work because my mind was so preoccupied, so I took an early lunch break. I’m regretting it now, because the rest of the work day will just seem to be that much longer now.
Ideally I’d need a three-hour lunch break, long enough to have a few stiff drinks. I’ve got Jane back on my side--though she’s still angry with me--but Jack is another matter. I definitely owe him a bigger apology than what I owed Jane. I’ve tried to contact him, but it’s clear he’s avoiding me.
The problem with my situation is that telling him the truth won’t exactly fix things. Even though I wouldn’t change the decisions I made--even if he comes around and agrees with what and how I decided--it’s not as if what I did to him is easily forgivable. Hell, if the roles were reversed, I would have a really difficult time forgiving what I did, too.
I start walking up the hill back toward the office. My hands are shoved into my coat pockets, and I can see my breath in front of my face as I exhale.
Noah’s been asking about his dad now. He’s not old enough to ask complicated questions, but he’s also not old enough to understand why he hasn’t seen his dad again. It’s not that I’m keeping Noah away from him. Jack is just so angry at me that he’s keeping his distance.
I’m dreading the moment when Jack arrives again, meets me with an icy stare, and demands to spend time with Noah. With Noah, but not with me. I wouldn’t deny him that, but it would hurt.
I enter the office through a side door that goes directly into the break room. I still have about 10 minutes left before I’m back on the clock. I see three of the younger secretaries--Lisa, Maya, and Allison--all gossiping with each other. They don’t even look at me when I come in, so I cross my arms and listen to them, waiting for them to acknowledge me.
“He’s so tall,” one of them whispers. “Like, really tall.”
“Who’s so tall?” I ask.
They nearly jump in surprise, and when they turn toward me, their faces all burn red. I know exactly who is so tall. Jack.
“He’s here?” I ask.
“It’s no wonder Noah is so handsome,” Maya says, grinning.
“I missed him?” I ask.
“He’s still here, I think,” Allison says, pointing. “In the main lobby. He said he’d wait for you to come back.”
My heart pounds in my chest. Now, if he’s angry at me and rejects me, it will be the office gossip for the next several weeks. “Noah’s hot Dad hates Elisabeth! I wonder if he’s available then?”
I grit my teeth. I’m going to make him understand. But outside of the office...just in case.
I get my breathing under control and storm out of the breakroom. I march through the cubicle maze and into the main lobby.
When I open the door, I see Jack sitting in one of the chairs. He’s got his beanie stuffed into his jacket pocket, and his hair is mussed up. But even with hat hair, he still manages to look handsome.
He stands up when he sees me. His lips stay pressed together, but as I take a few steps closer, he smiles and scratches the back of his head. “Elisabeth…”
“Can I explain?” I say. “Before you say anything?”
“You don’t--”
“I need to,” I say, cutting him off.
I look behind me, and I see that Maya is sitting at the reception desk. Her break is definitely not over yet, but she’s here to eavesdrop.
“Can we go outside?” I ask.
I turn back to Maya, who frowns.
“Yeah,” he says.
He opens the door, holding it for me, and I walk past him. His smell hits me as I walk by. He smells like fresh pine, topped off with a masculine whiff of musk.
When the door shuts, we’re out on the sidewalk in the cold. Though I’ve been in Alaska long enough now to not notice the cold as much.
“Jane already told me,” he says.
“Told you…?”
“She told me why you did what you did,” Jack says. “So I understand. I get it.”
I sigh. “You haven’t heard it from my side, though.”
“I get it,” he says. “I really do. It kills me, Elisabeth, that you couldn't trust me. But I understand, too. It’s not like we knew each other. Not really. What if I put Noah’s life in danger?”
I bite my lip. Is he really going to be this understanding? I was ready for a fight.
He slicks his hair back and puts his beanie back on. “I don’t know what to do about Aldus. I know what I want to do, but--”
“What would Aldus do if he knew about Noah?” I ask.
Jack shakes his head, and I see his chest heave. His face starts to turn red. “Every time I ask myself that question, I feel ready to go after him.”
“All I had keeping us safe,” I say, “was distance and Aldus’s ignorance. I wasn’t on his radar anymore.”
Jack nods. “And now you are. Because of me. That’s why I feel I have to do something.”
“Be a father,” I say, “that’s what you can do.”
“Aldus tracks me,” Jack says. “If I stay here too long, he’ll get suspicious.”
“What is he afraid of?” I ask. “Why does he hate you so much? Doesn’t he already…?”
Jack laughs. “Why would a billionaire asshole like that be afraid of a fucking lumberjack? Is that what you mean?”
I blush. “I didn’t mean it like that, but yeah.”
“It’s a long story,” he says. “I’m guessing you have to get back to work, though.”
I reach into my purse and check my phone. “Shit, I’m late.”
“I’ll let you go,” he says. “I’m not mad at you anymore, in case that wasn’t already clear.”
I nod. “So, are you free tomorrow?”
“I’m here for you and Noah,” he says. “I don’t know how long I can stay without putting you in danger, but I’ve always got time for you two.”
Shit. I was worried he was going to be furious with me, but now I’m worried that he can’t stay. I’ll have to get him to tell me what Aldus has against him, and why he’s so afraid. Maybe we can think of some kind of solution together.
“Well,” I say, “I gotta go then. You like to fish?”
He nods. “I’m a lumberjack.”
I laugh. “Tomorrow morning, you can go fishing with Noah and me.”
“Sounds good.”
We both stand there, looking at each other. His blue eyes burn into me, and I awkwardly stuff my hands into my coat pockets.
“Come here, Elisabeth.”
My mouth hangs open as he leans toward me. He leans in toward me, and I rush to get my hands out of my pockets. How is he going to kiss me if I’m all clamped up like that?
When I smile, he goes in.
Our lips press together, and in contrast to the biting cold, his lips are warm against mine. When his tongue slides into my mouth, it’s hot as a furnace. He grabs hold of me, though I can barely feel him through my coat. I mostly can just feel the size of him, and the pressure of his embrace. My tongue dances against his, and his taste fills me. I kiss him for all I’m worth, not wanting the moment to end.
And the
n I hear a door open behind me. I pull away from Jack and look back. It’s Maya.
“Oh!” she says, faking surprise. “I...was going to make a phone call.”
“Weren’t you just on break?”
She smiles. “Important call…”
She’s staring at Jack.
Fuck this.
I grab hold of Jack and kiss him again. Harder than before. Let Maya watch, what do I care? She already saw it once, and if she thinks I’m embarrassed, it will be even worse.
Jack laughs a bit as I press against him, but he stops laughing when I grab his ass and squeeze.
When we finally break our kiss, I look back to see Maya is just glaring, with her arms crossed.
“What about your phone call?” I ask.
She scoffs at me, turns, and goes back inside.
“You almost ready?” I ask Noah.
He nods. Of course he’s ready. A three-year-old doesn’t get ready on his own. Almost every element of Noah getting ready is my responsibility.
Jane is sleeping in. I need some time alone with Noah and Jack. Jane doesn’t like fishing anyway.
The last time I took Noah fishing, he was barely two--too young to really know what was going on. Now that he’s closer to four, I think he’ll really be able to enjoy it this time. Especially with his father.
There’s a knock on the door. I rush across the room to open it, and see Jack standing tall, leaning against the doorframe. He’s smiling, and his white, perfect teeth are gleaming.
I kiss him without even thinking about it, and when I pull away, Noah is staring up at us. He looks confused. He’s never seen me kiss anyone.
Jack smiles. “You ready to go fishing, buddy?”
“But you’re a lumberjack,” Noah says.
Jack laughs.
Noah is having trouble separating “Jack the Lumberjack” from Jack the man. It’s the perception a lot of young kids have, where they think a person’s job is what they are, and that’s all they are. I remember when I first realized that my first grade teacher had an actual life and didn’t live at school. Noah is having a hard time understanding that Jack isn’t just a lumberjack.
Jack spots the fishing poles I’ve packed, and he picks one up. “See, buddy, now I’m a fisherman.”
“I wanna be a lumberjack,” Noah says.
“We’re all going to be fishermen today,” Jack says. “You, me, and Mom. We can be a lumberjack later.”
“Okay,” Noah says.
13
Jack
We park in a small lot surrounded by snow-covered trees.
“I’ve never been ice fishing,” I say. “So if I don’t catch anything, that’s why.”
Elisabeth laughs. “Getting your excuses ready early?”
“Yeah,” I say. “That way if I do catch something, it looks even more impressive.”
“You’ll catch something,” she says. “This is my favorite place to fish. I always catch something.”
“The pressure’s on, then.”
She smiles at me, and I get the big bag of gear out of the trunk.
“Need help with that?” she asks.
“Nah,” I say. “I got it.”
We walk down the road for a few hundred feet, and then I see the lake. It’s fucking beautiful. The sun is just barely peeking up over the top of the trees, and the ice is frosted over and covered in fresh snow.
“You sure it’s safe?” I ask.
Elisabeth nods. “It’s a small lake, the ice won’t be thinned out for a few more months.”
We trek out onto the ice, and I’m careful with each step I take.
“You gotta be a penguin,” Noah says, watching me walk awkwardly.
He does a little penguin walk behind Elisabeth, and I emulate him. It does seem more stable this way.
We don’t go all the way to the center. Elisabeth stops us about one-third of the way across. I throw down the equipment, pulling out the fold-out chairs.
We set the chairs up together, and I lift Noah up so he can sit down in one.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Take this,” she says, handing me a huge drill.
“This is pretty hard-core, huh?”
“Put the drill into the ice, and crank it.”
I slam the tip of the drill in until it cuts an inch or so into the thick ice. I grab the hand crank and get to work. It feels pretty similar to lumberjacking. It’s like drilling into a tree to extract the sap, basically.
I crank for several minutes, until I feel the resistance completely stop. “I think I hit water.”
I crank in the opposite direction, getting the drill out and setting it aside. “Now what?” I see a chisel in the bag and pick it up. “This thing?”
Elisabeth nods.
I slam the chisel into the ice as if I’m swinging an axe. I get three or four good swings in, but Elisabeth laughs and grabs my arm. “Calm down there, Jack the Lumberjack. You need to work your way out from the hole you drilled. We want a small little opening, don’t break the whole lake open.”
I smile and swing the chisel again, being more gentle with each swing. After a few minutes, I’ve expanded the small drill hole out into a hole with a six-inch diameter.
“You think a trout will fit through here?” I ask. “Maybe I can double the size, since I’m gonna catch such big fish--”
“This is big enough,” she says. “Any bigger and it might actually be dangerous.”
I look over at Noah. The hole is small enough that he couldn't fall through.
“Ah,” I say. “Good call.”
We cast the lines into the hole, and we build small little mounds of snow to stick the poles into. Once everything is set, we sit back and wait.
Elisabeth opens a thermos of piping hot coffee and pours us each a cup. She gets out a smaller thermos for Noah, filled with hot chocolate.
We all sit back and enjoy the serene silence of the icy lake. The coffee is warm as it hits my stomach, and--
One of the lines shakes.
“Fish!” Noah says, pointing.
I grab the rod as Elisabeth helps Noah down off his chair, setting his cup of hot chocolate on the ice.
“Don’t get too close,” she says to Noah.
I pull on the rod, and I feel a fairly heavy weight fighting me. “It’s big.”
“Reel it in!” Elisabeth says, keeping her voice low.
“You don’t have to whisper,” I say, starting to reel. “It’s hooked, you won’t scare it off.”
I reel carefully, pulling and tugging a bit as I go to tire the fish out. After about 30 seconds, a huge trout pops out of the water, hits the ice, and flaps around all over the ice.
Noah cheers, and I grab the line with a hand and lift it up so it won’t slide all over the place.
I unhook the fish and throw it down into the icebox.
“Alright,” I say, sitting back down. “Your turn, Elisabeth.”
The Alaskan winter sun barely goes up above the tree line, and by mid-afternoon it’s already sinking back down, turning the landscape to a golden, surreal hue.
“We should get going,” Elisabeth says. “It will be dark soon.”
We’ve caught five or so trout; I caught three, Elisabeth caught two. I won.
“I may not have gone ice fishing before,” I say, “but I know how to cook a nice trout.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “I have a grill at home.”
“Perfect.”
We get back to Elisabeth’s place, and I get the charcoals going on her back porch. When they are white-hot, I throw them into the grill, and then I put three of the trout onto the grill.
I doubt Noah will be able to eat a whole damn trout, but I’ll gladly eat whatever he can’t finish.
I throw some potatoes and corn wrapped in foil on the grill. I like to eat trout with baby asparagus, but I doubt that Noah will be down for that.
When the fish has finished cooking, I squeeze some lemon juice all over the trout and thr
ow everything together onto three plates.
I open the sliding door and put everything on kitchen table. “Ready to eat?”
We sit down together, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve had a real home-cooked meal--or any meal--with my son and Elisabeth.
Elisabeth pours Noah some apple juice, and then she gets two beers from the fridge for us. It feels like we’re a real family. I mean, shit, we are a real family, but this is the first time I’ve really felt it. If I can find a way to resolve things with Aldus, then maybe I could stay here for good. Every weekend could be like this, going hiking or fishing, eating a nice meal together.
Suddenly, I think of a solution. One I’d never even considered before. One that I’d sworn to myself was never a real option. I start to mull it over in my mind as I eat.
“If you want to watch TV or something while I get Noah ready for bed--” Elisabeth starts to say, but I cut her off.
“No,” I say. “I’ll help you.”
“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, sure.”
We get Noah into the bath, and he plays with some floating ships while Elisabeth fights him to get the shampoo into his hair.
When we’re toweling him off, he looks at Elisabeth and asks, “Is Dad gonna live here?”
We both look at each other, our mouths opening and closing. I don’t know how to answer. I want to say “yes,” but I don’t want to lie to him. I don’t know if I can stay.
“I want to, buddy,” I say. “But I might have to go soon...for a while. But I’ll be back.”
We get Noah to bed, and Elisabeth opens two more beers. She hands me one and says, “Okay, tell me about Aldus now.”
I take a long swig of the beer, put the bottle onto a coaster on the kitchen table, and lean back in my chair. “Aldus’s mom died when he was young. He was just a few years old. I never really got the full story, but I get the impression that it was a rocky marriage between his mom and my dad. If she hadn’t died, I don’t think they’d have stayed together.”
Elisabeth nods, listening. She doesn’t say anything.
“So,” I say, “my dad remarried soon after, to my mom. Aldus was only five years old when I was born, and my dad really loved my mom. It’s not like Aldus was already a teenager when I was born. We were both so young, so really we should have been close, like full brothers.