If Not for a Bee

by Carol Ross

  “Good morning, Laurel. Do you realize in all the years I’ve worked here this is the first time I’ve arrived before you? Is everything okay?”

  “Actually, the reason I’m late has to do with you. There is something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Uh-oh, am I getting fired?” Janie clicked the Send button on the email. She’d been joking, but when she looked up Laurel’s grave expression stole her smile. “Laurel, what’s going on?”

  Laurel sank into her own chair and then spun to face Janie. “We have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Aidan Hollings’s agent called this morning.”

  “Oh.” What could this possibly have to do with her?

  “Well, you know that Aidan has agreed to do the interview.”

  “Yes, that’s great, isn’t it?”

  “It is—very great. Or it could be...”

  Janie felt a surge of nerves, knowing somehow that whatever Laurel was going to say would not be great for her at all.

  * * *

  AIDAN OPENED HIS email to find a lengthy note from Blake. Why Blake insisted on writing him these book-length messages Aidan would never understand. Aidan had once responded to one of his two-page diatribes with this simple line: Get a journal, Blake.

  To which Blake had answered: Why should I get a journal, Aidan, when I have you?

  Aidan skimmed through the current missive; Blake had hired a media relations specialist to do some marketing for their film, he was thrilled by the reviews Seeds was receiving from an advance screening they’d offered, and... What? Aidan reread a paragraph. Blake was thinking about visiting him here in Alaska before the premiere? Aidan wondered what that was about.

  He’d love to see his friend, but Blake seemed to be having the time of his life in New York. Aidan couldn’t help but wonder what would prompt Blake to leave the city in the midst of all this media buzz he and Drum had created surrounding Seeds.

  Blake could be such a contradiction. His friend loved the city, yet had chosen a profession where urban life didn’t exactly mesh with what they did. Blake was comfortable in the field, too. He might not relish it like Aidan did, but he enjoyed it, making the best out of every experience and often joking about the discomfort and the uneasiness the seclusion caused him, in direct opposition to Aidan, who savored it.

  So far working in Alaska was shaping up to be everything Aidan had hoped. It was ruggedly beautiful, relatively undisturbed, remote and isolated...yet accommodating in every way that mattered to him, including the presence of his sister and her family.

  It was also interesting and challenging. He grinned as he realized how fitting those descriptors were on both the personal front as well as the professional.

  Rankins seemed to promise him a wealth of excitement and...contentment. And, Aidan realized, the perfect mix of those aspects was exactly what he’d been searching for all his life.

  * * *

  JANIE SCOFFED WHEN Laurel told her the news—a too-loud mix of relief and amusement. Laurel looked concerned, like maybe she thought Janie was losing her mind.

  “Janie, you do understand what I’m saying here, right? I have to ask you to reconsider. Aidan will only do the interview if you’re the reporter who does it.”

  “Laurel, no. I mean yes, of course, I understand. But this is just a misunderstanding. He feels guilty because of everything that has happened. He’s trying to patch things up with me or something.”

  Laurel raised one questioning brow. “Patch things up? You guys have the kind of relationship where things need to be patched? Do you have something you want to share with me?”

  Janie felt her cheeks burn for absolutely no reason. “No, no—it’s not like that. He’s trying to...” Trying to what? How did she explain? She wasn’t even sure exactly what he was up to herself. She assumed he felt guilty; just as he’d brought the cake as a peace offering, he’d also agreed to do the interview. Undoubtedly, Laurel had told him that she was assigning someone else so he’d requested her—to ensure that he could fully assuage his guilt.

  “Janie, he was very adamant about this.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  After assuring Laurel that she would straighten out the situation with Aidan, she found herself headed to his place. The building wasn’t far from the Rankins Press office so she chose to walk. In Janie’s most recent memory, the space had been a dance studio, a karate dojo and a church hall—nothing ever stuck around in the building for long. She found herself ungraciously hoping this was some kind of an omen where the current tenant was concerned as well. She chastised herself because the opportunity he was giving Reagan was worth more than any discomfiture she had to endure.

  The door was open so she walked in to find him sitting in front of his computer.

  “Hey, Aidan?”

  His eyes snapped up and his gaze latched on hers. His lips tugged up with a slow smile.

  “Um, your door is open, so I...” She lifted a thumb and gestured over her shoulder and immediately realized how much she probably resembled a hitchhiker. She lowered her hand and swallowed nervously. Why was she nervous?

  “Welcome, welcome.”

  He stood and came toward her, and Janie found herself wishing he wasn’t quite so good-looking. It was distracting.

  She glanced around and realized he’d only set up equipment in one relatively small area. “You’ve got an awful lot of space here.”

  “I know. I really don’t need this much. I’m living over there.” He pointed to one corner, and then to what would obviously serve as his lab area. “Working over there and... I have some plans for the rest.”

  “Oh. Well, that explains it.”

  He chuckled. “I’m really glad you’re here. I was going to call you today.”

  She fidgeted with the charm on her necklace. “Call me?”

  “Yes, I figured maybe if I called you on the phone there would be less probability that I’d royally screw things up.”

  She smiled tightly. “Aidan—”

  “Janie, I owe you some apologies. I’m sorry about the Boston cream pie. I didn’t know...”

  How did he...? “Did Shay tell you—”

  “No, no. Oh, no—I thought your lovely cousin was going to drop-kick me off the front porch. She most certainly did not tell me anything. I barely even got a goodbye. I, um, I actually asked Bering and he kind of filled me in on some stuff.”

  “Oh.” Right—a casual question to Bering and he wouldn’t think twice about talking to Aidan, his brother-in-law.

  “I should have known something was up that day outside the bakery, but for some reason that I can’t identify and that I really regret now, I didn’t take the time to think past what I could see. That can be a problem for me. That and... I sometimes say things without completely thinking through how it might be interpreted by someone else. If you felt like I was somehow insulting your parenting? Let me assure you that it was not my intention to do so. Your boys are incredible kids and obviously the credit for that is yours.

  “Like I said, I have to continually work at diplomacy. As my colleague Blake likes to say, I can be a little clumsy on the social front.”

  Janie stared, dumbfounded. He was obviously making a reference to their conversation after the science club meeting. She hadn’t expected such a...personal explanation. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology. It reminded her of Cal. Her late husband had never had a problem apologizing and she’d always loved that about him.

  Why was she comparing this situation with Aidan to her marriage with Cal? That was...not okay. She should probably go before this got any weirder. She called herself a coward because an apology didn’t change the fact that he’d been acting out of guilt and probably pity as far as the interview was concerned. She didn’t need�
��or want—either. She intended to clear that up right now.

  “Thank you for the apology. I appreciate it—more than you probably realize. But my boys and I, we’re... It’s been three years since their dad was killed, and that might sound like a long time, but grief can be...tricky, and... We’re still working some things out.”

  Aidan began talking quickly. “I can see that now. And I understand—I probably comprehend that more than you realize, definitely more than my behavior has reflected.”

  Janie found herself at a loss for words.

  “Gareth has ritualized some of the important events surrounding his dad?”

  Bering had definitely been talking. “Yes, his birthday, Christmas—all the major holidays, plus Veteran’s Day for some reason. Cal wasn’t even a veteran, although he was very patriotic and made an event of it when he was alive—flags and parades...” Janie took a deep breath. “Anyway, our grief counselor said it was okay for him to hold on to some of these occasions and memorialize them in his own way.”

  Aidan nodded, but she couldn’t quite read his expression. “That makes sense.”

  Janie was glad it made sense to him because she wasn’t really sure how she felt about it. If she was honest she’d kind of like the rituals to go away, although she’d never say that out loud.

  But this exchange did have her feeling better about the situation with Aidan—better about him. Amazing how far an apology could go. And for some reason it seemed okay that he knew—that he understood that they were struggling. It made her feel less...crazy.

  She smiled in relief. “So, now that we’re...okay—I came over here to let you know that Laurel thinks you won’t agree to the interview unless I do it and I—”

  “That’s correct.” He added a pleased grin, once again reminding her of Reagan.

  “I want you to know that you don’t have to do that. I appreciate the sentiment and I think I understand what you were trying to achieve. But your apology is enough—more than enough for me. You don’t have to do any more than that.”

  He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you don’t have to insist that I do the interview.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t. I—”

  “I meant it when I said I won’t do the interview unless you’re the one doing it.”

  Janie frowned. “Aidan, I just told you that isn’t necessary.”

  “To me it is.”

  “What? Why? I’m totally fine not doing it. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I don’t want to do the interview.”

  A puzzled expression lit his face. “Why?”

  “Do we really need to rehash the conversation I overheard?”

  “But I explained that.” He sounded truly baffled and under different circumstances she might think he was endearing. But these weren’t those circumstances—not even close.

  “But it doesn’t change the fact that you said what you did, and I believe you meant what you said.”

  He nodded. “I did at the time, but—”

  Janie was shaking her head. “See? You admitted it. This is not going to work.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes and said, “Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good, then it’s settled. No interview.” So why didn’t she feel more relieved?

  He tipped his head very slightly to one side. “Maybe...”

  A surge of nervous tension left her flustered. He was still staring, assessing, and the look on his face... “Maybe...what?” she finally managed to ask.

  He lifted one shoulder. “I’m more than fine with not doing the interview. I hate interviews. The problem here is that Emily wants the interview. Your boss wants the interview. My agent wants the interview. My business partner wants the interview. The tourism website wants the interview. Heck, from what I hear, the entire community—the state, even—wants the interview. So, if you don’t want to do it, you’re going to have to tell them all why. If I do the interview—I want you to do it. That’s the only way I’ll agree.”

  She felt a fresh stir of irritation at his stubbornness. “This is ridiculous.” She debated whether or not to continue because she didn’t like to talk when she was upset—she always said something she later regretted. But she decided he needed to hear a few things.

  She took a deep breath and vowed she’d keep a check on her emotions. “You know, in addition to not being able to take no for an answer, you also have a problem with accepting when someone tells you—or asks you—not to get involved in their problems. You can’t fix everything, Aidan. Sometimes you just need to apologize and move on. Respect their wishes—respect my wishes. I’m giving you the opportunity to do that. I accepted your apology. I absolve you of all guilt. You don’t need to do any more than that.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and let out a chuckle, like he didn’t have a care in the world. And that attitude, she thought, was probably a big part of the problem—he didn’t have any real cares in this world. Not cares like she had anyway. His cares centered on “saving” plants and bees while her cares were of the more immediate and pressing kind—like feeding and clothing her children and trying to make enough time for each of them every single day so that they didn’t end up spending the bulk of their adulthood in therapy or prison...or worse.

  He had a different sense of what was important because his world was so much different than hers, resulting in very different priorities, which meant a different emphasis on nearly every aspect of life.

  She tried another tack. “You really want me to tell your sister and my brother that I overheard that conversation?”

  “Wait a minute—let’s back up for a second. Guilt? This isn’t about me feeling guilty. What I said about you was inaccurate, but it is true that I believed it at the time. And aside from the fact that I didn’t intend for you to hear it, I don’t believe it anymore.”

  “You don’t...” She gave her head a frustrated shake. “So, what are you saying? Your opinion changed that quickly?”

  “Yes, my opinion...changed as soon as I spent more than two minutes with you. And in conjunction with other factors...” He trailed off, and tried again. “What I’m saying is that we both have a choice to make here. Unfortunately for you, my choice depends on yours. You can either do the interview or not. But I won’t agree to the interview unless you’re the reporter doing the interviewing. If you decide not to do it, I don’t really care which excuse you use when you break the news to my sister. She already knows I said those things—I was talking to her when I said them. She knew I was wrong, and she emphatically told me so.”

  Janie called on every bit of mom patience she could muster and tried to think this through. She knew there wasn’t anything she could tell Emily that would placate her, and there was no way she could ever make it up to Laurel if Aidan didn’t end up somehow doing the interview.

  Laurel could by all rights fire her if she wanted to—for refusing to agree to the assignment. Laurel wouldn’t do that, of course, but Janie supposed she should just agree. What was the point in exhibiting the same childish stubbornness he was? After all, it was only an interview. But this fact made it even more difficult to understand why he was so adamant about her doing it.

  She started to clarify that point. “I still don’t get why—”

  They both turned as Emily burst noisily through the door, pushing Violet in a stroller. “Hey! Janie, I’m so glad you’re here.” She jogged toward them and stopped. “Wait till you guys hear this.” She was grinning and bouncing up and down on her toes, good news dripping off of her like an overfrosted cake.

  She clapped her hands together. “Guess who I was just on the phone with? Never mind. Don’t guess. You’ll never get it, so I’m going to tell you—Explore Your Wor
ld. They’ve agreed to run two of the Rankins Press articles about Alaska as long as one of them is the piece on you, Aidan.”

  She held up a hand to cut off whatever response he might be about to counter with. “I realize you aren’t exactly Alaskan, but you’re here right now and studying Alaska and... You get the idea. Isn’t this incredible? I can’t believe it. And not web only—we’re talking print. Janie, imagine having an article you wrote in one of the premier travel magazines in the world. And yes, I said world. I’m so excited. Rankins is going to be on the map!”

  * * *

  BACK AT WORK, Janie tapped her fingers on her desktop and pondered the unfairness of this situation. She thought about the satisfied look—the relief—that had transformed Aidan’s face while Emily had told them about Explore Your World even as she had felt herself falling into a mass of quicksand.

  She was stuck, plain and simple. She knew it and he knew it, too, and trying to extricate herself at this point would only make matters worse.

  An article in a world-renowned magazine was an opportunity that any aspiring reporter would be ecstatic about. But Janie was not an aspiring reporter and she most certainly was not ecstatic. She wasn’t interested in writing about Aidan or about bees for that matter—unless she happened to be sharing a recipe that included honey.

  Janie had never had dreams of a high-powered career. Instead, she’d always been drawn to being a full-time wife and mother, taking care of her home.

  Because their own mom had been a widow and a single mother from the time she and Bering were very young, they had both taken on extra chores to make life easier. Janie had naturally gravitated toward the kitchen, partially because she could spend time with her busy mom while they cooked or baked and also because she loved it.

  The entire extended family enjoyed good food and family meals. Some of Janie’s best memories were of times spent cooking with her mom, her grandmother, her aunts and cousins.

  Gradually she’d taken on other tasks like cleaning and gardening, almost always looking at the activities as challenges—although certainly some of the chores were tedious.