by Nina Lane
She opens it and takes out a leather journal with hand-cut pages. I’d had it specially made at a printer’s in Tuscany and embossed with Liv’s name on the cover. For a few years, she’s kept what she calls her “manifesto” of thoughts and ideas, and I’ve noticed her journal is getting a little ragged.
“Dean, it’s beautiful.” She runs her hand admiringly over the cover. “Thank you so much. Did you get one for yourself?”
She eyes me pointedly, as always unimpressed with my own habit of scrawling things on the pages of a loose-leaf notebook.
I’m saved from having to answer by the buzz of my cell phone. I smile at Liv and get up to answer the call.
“Dean West.”
“Dean, it’s Hans Klasen,” an accented male voice announces over some crackly static. “Did you arrive home safely?”
“Last night, yes. Thanks.”
“Good. I’ll be in Mirror Lake next week,” Hans continues. “I was hoping you’d have a chance to meet, perhaps for lunch? We need to talk about the Altopascio proposal and your role with the World Heritage Center.”
“Sure.” I pick up my notebook, which I’d left on the desk. “Where are you staying?”
Hans gives me his hotel info. “Have you thought more about interviewing for the job?” he asks.
Shit. Not a conversation I want to have right when I just got home.
“No,” I reply carefully. “You know my priorities are the site and my work at King’s.”
“I understand,” Hans says. “But we continue to believe you’d be an excellent candidate for the position. Look over the documents I sent you, and we can discuss it more when we meet. I’d also like your opinion about the Novgorodian dig and the manuscripts.”
“Happy to provide it,” I tell him. “Do you need a ride from the airport?”
“No, I’m driving. I’ll let you know when I arrive.”
We exchange goodbyes. I toss my cell back on the counter and pick up my empty breakfast plate.
“Who was that?” Liv asks, coming into the kitchen.
“Hans Klasen, director of the World Heritage Center.” I load my plate with scrambled eggs. “He’s planning a visit to King’s next week. We’ve known each other for years, but haven’t had a chance to work together until recently. He stepped in to help with the aftermath of the quake, and I’m hoping he can push the proposal through to the UN Assembly.”
“Is that what he was calling about?”
“Partly. He’s also working on an archeological dig in Novgorod and wants my opinion on some things.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to Russia now.” Liv slips her arms around my waist from behind.
“Nyet, lyubimaya moya.”
She chuckles. “What does he want your opinion on?”
“Birch bark scrolls preserved by the unique chemical qualities of the Novgorodian mud.”
“Mmm. Sexy.” Liv reaches up to kiss the back of my neck.
I put my plate down and turn to face her. Liv’s perspective has always made me see things from a different angle. She was the one who told me I had to go work on the Altopascio dig almost three years ago—and though I’d refused at first, the work has turned out to be one of the most rewarding projects of my career. And because it’s expanded my professional reputation into areas beyond academia, it’s also bringing up new challenges I haven’t yet figured out how to handle.
“Hey.” Liv puts her hand on my chest, her forehead creasing. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I slide my hands down to her hips. “Just office politics. What time are you working today?”
“Morning shift. Do you need to go to campus?”
“No. I’ll spend the morning with Nicholas and go back to campus on Monday.” I kiss her nose, then pick up my plate and join our son at the table. “Are Archer and Kelsey back from California? I need to drop off Archer’s financial portfolio this afternoon.”
“They got back a few days ago, but I haven’t seen either one of them yet.” Liv puts the milk back in the refrigerator. “Kelsey emailed me that they’re getting the Spiral Project ready, so they’re both busy. I can take Nicholas for the afternoon, if you two want to stop by the café.”
“Sure. Call me if you need me.”
“I always need you,” she replies with a smile.
She heads upstairs to get ready for work. I leaf through some mail that accumulated in my absence, picking up a worn postcard with a photo of the Bronze Horseman statue in St. Petersburg. In scrawled handwriting on the back is the message:
Liv,
Candy-colored onion domes, painted nesting dolls, sour cream so thick you can stand a spoon in it. Serpentine canals, wedding-cake palaces, the Bronze Horseman caught in a moment of impossible glory. History both grim and beautiful embedded everywhere.
My adventure continues.
North
Northern Star Richmond—Liv’s old friend from the California commune where she once stayed with her mother and later found refuge when she had nowhere else to go.
I look up at the sound of her entering the kitchen. She spots the postcard and smiles.
“Once upon a time, I thought North would never leave Twelve Oaks,” she says. “Last month, he was in China, now Russia. No telling where he’ll end up next. Hey, I need to get going. You okay with the tornado over there?”
“Sure.”
She reaches up to kiss me, the air around her fragrant with the sweet smell of cherries, before she gathers her things and leaves. I turn my attention to Nicholas. He and I spend the morning racing cars, watching a wildlife program, constructing tall buildings with blocks and pretending we’re monsters knocking them down.
We break for apples and peanut butter, then head to the park for an hour to practice on the monkey bars before stopping at the Wonderland Café to see Liv as her shift ends.
“Hey, cute stuff.” Allie Lyons, Liv’s partner and close friend, emerges through the swinging doors of the kitchen.
“You’ve never called me cute before,” I tell her. “I like it.”
She laughs and holds out her arms for Nicholas. “Cute is not a word I’d use to describe you, Dean, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. You guys here for lunch?”
“Scarecrow Straws,” Nicholas says.
“Your wish is my command, captain.” Allie ruffles Nicholas’s hair.
“Liv around?” I ask.
“Yeah, she’s in the office working on the plans for the festival.”
“What festival?”
“The Mirror Lake Bicentennial Festival,” Allie says.
“Mirror Lake is having a bicentennial festival?”
Allie nods. “Liv is in charge of it. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No.”
“She took over the planning committee to celebrate Mirror Lake’s two-hundredth year,” Allie explains, shifting Nicholas to her other arm. “I’m helping organize the entertainment. It’s going to be held in Wizard’s Park. There’ll be concerts, an art fair, a children’s stage, tons of food, and a fireworks show at night. Liv is also planning a charity auction to benefit the Historical Society.”
I take in that barrage of information. “When did she start all this?”
“A few weeks ago.” Allie shrugs. “Maybe she told you, and you forgot.”
I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have forgotten hearing that my already overworked wife is now planning a town festival and charity auction.
“I need to talk to her,” I say, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Can you deal with Nicholas for a few minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll get him set up in a booster seat.” Allie sets Nicholas on the floor and leads him over to an empty table by the window.
I go through the bustling kitchen to the offices in the back. Liv is sitting at the cluttered desk,
working at a computer whose edges are decorated with scrawled Post-it notes.
“Oh, hi.” She looks up at me, her face blooming with a smile, and for a second my resolve falters.
I manage to frown at her. “Hi.”
“Why are you scowling?”
“Because apparently you’re planning a festival to celebrate the town’s bicentennial, which I didn’t even know was taking place,” I say. “And some sort of charity auction, which I also did not know was taking place.”
“Well, it’s to benefit the Historical Society’s restoration of the train depot near Wizard’s Park,” Liv says. “So you shouldn’t be scowling.”
“When were you going to tell me this?”
“I thought I did.” She looks at the computer. “I mean, I wrote down all the… Oh.”
She plucks a Post-it off the computer and hands it to me. Written in her loopy handwriting is: Tell Dean about festival and auction.
She gives me a sheepish grin. I crumple the note in my fist.
“Is there a reason you wanted to take this job?” I toss the note into the trash.
“They asked me to.”
“Who asked you to?”
“The city council. The original festival director got a job in Indiana, so she had to move away. And the city council knows how involved the Wonderland Café has been with local events, so they asked if I’d be interested in taking over the festival.”
“And you said yes?”
“Well, obviously.” Liv puts her hands on her hips. “And I wanted to do the charity auction because the Wonderland Café has always been involved in Historical Society projects. Why are you so annoyed?”
I’m annoyed because my wife seems to have plenty of energy and ambition for everything except our sex life… to the point where she had to fake an orgasm.
Irritation grips my neck. Apparently her little act was more of an insult than I’d initially thought. Since when does she think of something else when we’re fucking?
“I appreciate you wanting to help, Liv,” I say evenly. “But I don’t get why you’d take on the task of planning a festival when you’re already overbooked.”
She narrows her eyes. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
Oh, fuck.
“That’s not the issue, and you know it.” I step closer to her, still frowning. “You have shifts almost every day, you’ve been talking about expanding the café, you’re busy every weekend with birthday parties, you’ve got Nicholas registered for toddler sports and swimming classes… and while you know I’ll help however I can, I’m not happy about you taking on more work right now.”
“Dean, most of the festival work is already done,” Liv says, spreading her arms out. “Linda, the former director, had so much already in place. I just need to schedule the events, make sure we have all the permits, confirm the details, and set up the charity auction.”
“That’s it, huh?”
“I promise, it’s not that big a deal.” She puts her hand on my chest in an obvious ploy to weaken me. “Just phone calls and emails, a meeting or two. It’s going to be a wonderful event for the whole town. And I’m doing it partly to create more visibility for the café and secure our reputation as an important institution. That’s all part of our success.”
I look into her brown eyes and feel an old, familiar twist in my chest. Liv has tried so hard to find her place in Mirror Lake, and I know this is one more way of ensuring that her roots here run strong and deep. It’s one more way of making herself an integral part of the town that has become her home.
But as strongly as I understand that, I still don’t have to like it.
“Do you have an assistant?” I ask. “Have you asked other people for help?”
“There’s a whole planning committee, and I’m delegating duties to everyone,” Liv says, faint irritation flashing in her eyes. “Look, I haven’t complained about you being so busy lately or gone so often. Haven’t you been overextending yourself for the past two years? You know, it’s not always easy taking care of Nicholas by myself.”
My jaw grinds. “I have told you countless times since Marianne moved away that I want us to hire another nanny.”
“I don’t want another nanny, Dean. I want you.”
I take a breath and try to smother a surge of guilt. Liv sighs and strokes her hands over my chest.
“Dean, not once have I resented the work you’re doing,” she says. “I don’t like it when you’re gone, but I know how important the excavation is, and I would never ask you to change anything. I have always supported you, so don’t make it sound as if I don’t know my own limitations, okay? Please.”
I drag a hand down my face. Frustration pushes at my chest. My work isn’t going to slow down anytime soon.
For weeks I’ve been dealing with the fallout of the earthquake, assessing damage to a site that had previously stood for a thousand years, battling governmental officials and institutions who want to kill the whole project. Not to mention making decisions I don’t like. Then sex with my wife last night was hardly a hero’s welcome—not that being angry about that will help anything either.
At this point, however, I’m not sure what will help.
“Dean, I don’t want you to scale back your work, especially now,” Liv says. “I know you need to save the site, and I’m proud of your dedication and commitment. But I want to do things too, and being asked to plan the festival is an honor I can’t turn down. Okay?”
I don’t respond, but I nod.
“I promise, I’m recruiting more people every day,” she continues. “In fact, I’m going to recruit you to help out during the festival, maybe with one of the stages or setting up for the auction. You know how much I love watching your muscles flex when you do heavy lifting.”
She strokes her hands down my arms and looks at me from underneath her long lashes. Some of my tension eases. Though I’m well aware Liv is playing me, I decide to let her. Because anything that gets my hot, sweet wife thinking in a sexy direction—and then staying there—is a win.
“What will I get in return?” I slide my hands around to squeeze her gorgeous ass.
“Whatever you want.”
“Then I happily volunteer.”
“I knew you would.” Liv reaches up to kiss me. “I’ll let you know what I need you to sign up for, okay?”
“Sure.”
As if I could ever tell her no.
After leaving Nicholas with Liv, I drive to the east side of the lake where clusters of rental cabins, outdoor shops, and restaurants cater to the tourist crowd. Next to a sandwich shop is the place my brother Archer bought with his inheritance money. It’s a rundown garage attached to an office, which he’s in the process of turning into a motorcycle repair and sales shop.
I go through the main office to the back room where Archer does all the paperwork. I stop and knock on the closed door. After a moment, his voice tells me to come in.
I push open the door. The air feels thick, laced with tension. Archer is sitting behind the desk in grease-stained overalls, his expression set. Kelsey March, Archer’s girl and one of my best friends, is standing on the other side of the room.
“Hey, man.” Archer rises and extends a hand. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.” I shake his hand and go to kiss Kelsey on the cheek. “Thought you’d be on campus today.”
“I’m heading over to Edison Power to finalize the details of funding for the Spiral Project,” she replies, brushing a hand through her blue-streaked blond hair. “How was your trip?”
“Good. Got a lot done.” I step away from her. “How was California?”
She and Archer exchange glances before Kelsey shrugs.
“Okay,” she says. “We had to meet with the Explorer Channel producers about the upcoming season. Contract details and stuff. Did you bring
me my panettone?”
“Yeah, it’s at home.” I glance from her to Archer, aware of the lingering tension. “Guess I’m interrupting something.”
“No.” Kelsey rolls her shoulders back and fidgets with her cuffs. “You’re not. I was just leaving.”
Archer’s gaze follows her as she heads out the door. Something is off, but I’m not about to try and figure out what it is.
I lower myself into a chair without comment. While I know well that dealing with Kelsey can be a challenge, I’ve learned to stay the hell out of her and Archer’s relationship.
The air crackles with faint awkwardness. My relationship with my brother is no longer overtly hostile, but we haven’t entirely figured out how to get past years of estrangement and anger.
I give Archer full credit, though—after meeting Kelsey, he settled in Mirror Lake and completely turned his life around. He opened the garage two months ago, after a year of searching for a place and working out a business plan. For years, it seemed as if Archer would never even hold a job, let alone own his own business, and he proved all our doubts wrong.
“So what’s going on?” Archer asks.
I hand him the folder I’m carrying. “That’s the details of your investments. I made some recommendations you can look over. Good rates on some newer gold-star funds.”
“Thanks.” He glances through the papers.
“Looks like you’re starting to pull in some customers,” I say, nodding toward the window.
“I put out a few ads and got some word-of-mouth.” Archer puts the investment papers into the filing cabinet. “Hey, I haven’t seen Nicholas since I got back. He’s in daycare today?”
“No, he’s at home with Liv for the afternoon.”
“Maybe I’ll text her, see if I can stop by.” He reaches for his phone. “I might have a lead on a truck for her.”
“A truck?”
“Yeah, for the party thing she and Allie want to do.”
“What party thing?”
“The thing.” Archer works the buttons on his phone. “You know.”
“I don’t know.”