One Hot Summer

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “He remembers Wendy the best,” she says gently. “He had her the longest.”

  “Yes,” I say, steering our walk to a road that runs alongside the harbor. The sun’s almost down, but we might catch a glimpse of seals or whales in the dying light over the water. “I think that’s part of it.”

  She’s quiet for a few minutes, her flip flops crunching along the pebbles on the sidewalk. “Is this getting complicated?”

  Yes, I think. It is. It got complicated the moment we ran into you at the concert on Monday. But that’s a lie. It got complicated the second I met her alongside the road in the rain. She made an impression on me—an indelible one—and it’s imbued everything that came after with a sort of special light. I like her. I like being with her. There’s no point in denying it.

  “Life is complicated,” I say.

  “We could…call it quits,” she says slowly.

  “Hey!” I stop walking and grab her arm, turning her to face me. “Is that what you want?”

  Her eyes scan mine in the twilight, gentle and kind. She shakes her head. “No.”

  “Me neither.” I slide my hand to hers, entwining my fingers through hers as we continue walking. I want every second we have.

  In fact, if I find the right moment, and if I can get up the courage, I’m going to ask her how she feels about staying in touch; how she feels about changing our relationship from a temporary fling to a possible long-distance…something.

  “My sister offered to take the kids this weekend,” I say, knowing that Bonnie won’t mind looking after them. “See that island out there?” I gesture to a pocket of warm light shimmering in the distance. “That’s Apple Island. The lights belong to the Talon Lodge and Spa.”

  “Sounds nice,” she says.

  “It is. Real nice.” My own words come back to me: The Talon Lodge and Spa, for instance, is somewhere I’d take a sweetheart, if I had one. And no, Amanda’s not my sweetheart, per se, but she’s the closest thing I’ve had to one in a long, long time. Besides, if I’m going to ask her how she feels about staying in touch, about figuring out a way to pursue a romance between us, I may as well hedge my bets by asking her in the most romantic place in Sitka. “If you’re not doing anything this weekend, I’d love to invite you to go there. With me.”

  She turns to look up at me, her eyes sparkling, her smile so lovely it tugs at my heart. A week from now, I’m going to miss that smile.

  “I’d love that,” she says.

  I exhale the breath I was holding. “We can fish. I bet we’ll see some bears, too!”

  “Even better!” she says, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me. “You’re so sweet, Luke! I can’t wait.”

  Me neither, sweet girl. Me neither.

  9

  Luke

  After I drop off the kids at Bonnie’s on Friday after work, I run home to pack a bag. I’m meeting Amanda at the Cascade Inn at five-thirty, where we’ll catch a charter across the bay to Apple Island.

  The Talon Lodge is a five-star place and not cheap. And by “not cheap,” I mean it’s a thousand dollars per person, per night. But the lodge donated a two-night gift certificate to the City of Sitka Christmas Party two years ago and yours truly was the lucky winner. At the time, I considered declining the prize. Wendy had recently passed away and I couldn’t imagine ever having someone with whom to share a weekend there. Now I’m glad I kept it. I’m excited to have a couple of days with Amanda all to myself. God willing, this won’t be our last weekend together.

  I’m standing in the parking lot when she pulls up in one of Jack’s cabs, so I step over to the driver’s window to cover her fare.

  “Heading out to the Talon?” asks Jack with a cheeky grin. “Too rich for my blood!”

  “Won an overnight stay at the civic Christmas-do two years ago.”

  “Lucky bastard,” says Jack, giving me change for a twenty. “You going with her, huh?”

  If the whole town didn’t know I was seeing Amanda, they will by Monday. Jack has the biggest mouth in Sitka.

  Amanda circles behind the car to stand beside me, and I figure if I’m going to give Jack something to talk about, it may as well be good. I pull her into my arms and kiss her like I’ve never been more serious about anything else in my entire life. When I pull away, we’re both breathless and panting, and her eyes are dilated and hungry when she looks up at me. I nuzzle her nose gently, tucking her against my side before looking at Jack with a bored expression.

  “Any other questions?”

  Jack whoops, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his hands. “No, siree! I guess that tells me everything!”

  As he pulls out of the parking lot, Amanda chuckles. “You do know that the entire town of Sitka will have us married by the time we return?”

  I kiss the top of her head. “Yep.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “Nope.” But while I’m having my fun with Jack, is she bothered? “Do you?”

  “Why should I mind?” she asks me. “I don’t live here.”

  Too true, I think. More and more, I wish you did.

  “Boat’s waiting out back,” I say instead. “Ready to go?”

  She reaches down and hoists a duffel bag onto her shoulder, but I grab the strap, skimming it down her arm so I can carry it for her, which makes her smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Chivalry, check,” she says under her breath.

  “What?”

  She cocks her head to the side, her cheeks pinkening just a little. “Bryce never carried my bags or—or opened doors for me, or paid my cab fare. No chivalry whatsoever. But I like it. I want it…you know, with my next-someone.”

  “Are you making a list?” I ask her.

  She nods. “Mentally. Yep. I’m figuring out everything I want so that I’ll know it when it’s standing in front of me.”

  I lead the way around the hotel building and down the gangplank that leads to a dock where our boat waits. We take side by side seats in the back.

  “Ready, Mr. Kingston?” asks the kid driving the boat.

  “Yep. Thanks, Matt.”

  Matt’s parents run the Cascade and I’ve known them for years. He tips his baseball cap at me and jumps onto the dock to release the bow line and I turn to Amanda.

  “Tell me more about your list.”

  “Oh,” she says, reaching into her purse for sunglasses, which she puts on. “No. It’s silly. Besides, it’s not done. It’s a work-in-progress.”

  “Come on,” I cajole, putting my arm around her as Matt starts the engine. “Give me some highlights.”

  “Well, I want someone who’s chivalrous,” she says, nestling back against me. “Someone who opens doors for me, and pays for my cab fare, and walks me home after dinner.”

  Inside of me, a warmth starts growing in the pit of my stomach, like tinder touched with a match, the very beginning of a fire.

  “Someone who wants kids,” she says. “I’ve always wanted kids, but there are so many guys who want to play Peter Pan for the rest of their lives, you know? Eternal children. Too selfish to make room for a child. I don’t want to have to convince a guy to have kids with me. I want to be with someone who already wants them.”

  A little kindling is added to the fire and I feel it flare, growing warmer, hotter, more confident in its burn.

  “This one is kind of dumb,” she says, “but I want a toucher.”

  “A…toucher? That sounds kind of dirty.”

  “It’s not!” she says, giggling at me. “A toucher. You know, someone who wants to touch me. Hug me. Hold my hand. Tangle his legs around mine in the middle of the night. Who isn’t embarrassed to give me a kiss in public or wrap his arms around me for no reason. Because he can’t help it. Or he just wants to. Bryce wasn’t much for snuggles or touching.”

  Then Bryce was a certifiable lunatic and a bona fide jackass. Because this woman sitting next to me? She is the most touch
able woman I’ve ever met, and that includes my ex-wife. Any man who has permission would be insane not to hold her every second he gets.

  And just like that, a log is added to the fire because it’s burning through everything else it’s been given. It’s raging now. It’s fierce and hot as I consider what she wants and who I am.

  I’m chivalrous. I love kids. I’m a dad, for God’s sake. And I can’t keep my hands off of her.

  “I want someone ambitious,” she says, “and successful, but I don’t want for my whole world to have to revolve around his job any more than I’d ask for his whole world to revolve around mine. We can both work and have pride in our careers, but they’d just be a part of our lives, not everything.”

  I’m him! my heart cries. I could be your guy—your “next-someone”!

  Little do I know, however, that there’s a massive bucket of icy cold water waiting for me in the wings in 3…2…1…

  “Um…what else? Oh! Big one! Someone who lives in Seattle, of course, and loves it there as much as I do. Go Hawks!”

  And just like that, all of that beautiful warmth is gone.

  “Orcas at two o’clock!” calls Matt from the helm and Amanda jumps up to get a better look.

  Seattle.

  Ugh.

  Seattle.

  The city. The congestion. The pollution. The crime. The cost-of-living.

  Okay, okay. I live in Sitka, one of the most expensive cities in America, so I can’t complain about the cost-of-living in the city, but I recently watched the documentary, “Seattle is Dying,” and it made me sad. Really sad. The drug and homelessness situation is out of control in the city I once loved, and frankly, I don’t think the quality of life in Seattle can come close to the quality of life my family enjoys in Sitka.

  Don’t get me wrong: I don’t hate Seattle. For most of my childhood, it was my home, and come September, I’ll be cheering on the Hawks as loudly as Amanda.

  I just don’t want to live again. I don’t want to raise my kids there.

  It’s not my home anymore.

  After the beauty and safety of my life in Sitka, I know it would make me deeply unhappy to move back to a city.

  Amanda turns back to face me with a smile of pure wonderment. “Do you see them? Whales!”

  But maybe…just maybe, it would be possible to help her see what I see here in Sitka.

  Is it possible I could help Amanda understand that Sitka is a better place than Seattle for everything she wants? That if she’s looking for a place with chivalrous men who love their kids and their women and their jobs, and even the Hawks, for God’s sake, she really can’t do better than where she is. Right now. Right this minute.

  Right here in front of her.

  Amanda

  I looked up the Talon Lodge on my laptop so I have an idea of how beautiful it is, but nothing prepares me for the actual thing. There’s a reason this place is one of the premiere hotels in the Inner Passage. It’s breathtaking in every way.

  We arrive at a main docking area and Luke takes our bags, leading me up a metal ramp that leads to a wooden bridge. And there, in front of us, surrounded by fir trees and wildflowers, is the main building at the Talon. Warm light pours from the windows of the luxury log cabin-style lodge, that boasts porches and patios perfect for catching a sunset. We are welcomed warmly and by name, and offered a glass of champagne, which I love.

  After we check-in, at the end of the upstairs hallway in the Bluff House, we find our king-bedded room, which is quite possibly the most perfect room I’ve ever seen. The bed is a soft pillow, with crisp white sheets and a gold satin coverlet, situated beneath a bay window. An overstuffed, brown, leather easy chair sits invitingly in the corner of the room, but the piece de resistance is the double sliding doors that lead to our own, private balcony.

  Crossing the room, I open the doors and step outside, breathing in the fresh, clean air of Alaska, and gazing out over the tops of fir trees to the rocky islands dotting the water.

  Luke comes up behind me, putting his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “What do you think?”

  In five years of dating and living together, Bryce never treated me to a getaway at so beautiful a place. And yet, this man—this sweet, thoughtful, incredibly handsome man that I’ve known for so short a time—wanted to share this place with me.

  “It’s so…” My voice breaks and I have to clear my throat before continuing. “…beautiful.”

  “That’s Mt. Edgecumbe in the distance,” he says, his breath dusting my throat as he speaks. “It’s a dormant volcano.”

  “How dormant?” I ask, leaning back against him and loving the way he welcomes me, tightening his grip around my body with a contented sigh.

  “Last eruption was 2000 BCE, give or take.”

  “So, it’s really dormant.”

  “Yeah. No chance of activity,” he confirms, “although there’s a funny story about Edgecumbe.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Back in 1974, local fella by the name of Porky Bickar took seventy some-odd tires up there to the crater and lit them on fire. Matter of an hour, a huge, dark cloud of smoke rose up over the mountain and the folks in Sitka panicked that sleepy Edgecumbe was finally waking up.”

  I laugh with glee. “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope,” he says, chuckling along with me. “Coast Guard headed out there to assess the situation and that’s when they noticed the words “April Fools” in fifteen-foot-high, spray-painted letters.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “Uh-huh. Turned out old Porky’d been planning the hoax for years, stockpiling the old tires under a tarp behind his garage.”

  I stare out at the snow-capped crater, shaking my head at the ingenuity of Porky Bickar, and making a mental note to include the colorful tale somewhere in my story about the local bears.

  “Think there are any bears out there?” I ask. “Climbing up Mt. Edgecumbe?”

  I feel him nod behind me. “Lots. Bears are great swimmers. They can easily swim from island to island.”

  “You know,” I say, “I think that’s the first time you’ve answered a bear question for me.”

  His laugh is a low rumble against my skin and makes hidden parts of me clench and tremble. “I guess I’m starting to trust you.”

  It’s a pretty great compliment when I consider how fast he clammed up last week when we first met. I take a deep breath and exhale. “I’m glad.”

  His lips land softly on my neck and I lean my head to the side, giving him better access and closing my eyes as he caresses my throat with tender kisses.

  “Hey…” he says, “How about a walk before dinner?”

  My eyes pop open and I feel a whisper of disappointment that our first order of business isn’t to rip off each other’s clothes and christen the queen-sized bed behind us.

  As though he can read my mind, Luke whispers low, “Baby, once I get you naked, I’m not leaving this room until sunrise.”

  Baby.

  Oh, my heart.

  He’s never called me by a nickname before, but it sounds so very right, it makes my heart race in a way that almost worries me. I feel like I’m hanging onto the side of a very tall building, my fingers digging into the crumbling concrete as I desperately try to keep myself from falling.

  Don’t get attached, I remind myself. This is only temporary. Guard your heart, idiot. It has no place here.

  “When’s dinner?” I ask.

  “They’re delivering it to the room at seven.”

  I turn in his arms to look into his blue eyes, their clarity and color so vibrant, I can’t resist the urge to rise up on tiptoes and kiss him. I run my fingers up his chest to his neck to cup his strong jaw. As he tightens his arms around me, I sigh into his mouth, leaning into him as he holds me. His tongue slides against mine and I moan into his mouth, swallowing his answering groan.

  I know we’ve only known each other for a handful of days, but fuck, I can’t help caring about
this man. I can’t help it. I know I wasn’t supposed to fall for him. I know I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for him. I know. God, I know! But I couldn’t help it. He’s too good, too kind, too good a father, too fine a brother, too perfect a man.

  I kiss him like I would if he belonged to me and I belonged to him, and when he draws away, he looks into my eyes with such vulnerability, such naked sincerity, it almost makes me cry.

  “H-How about that walk?” I somehow manage to ask. “Give me a second to freshen up?”

  And then I flee the sweet, warm sanctuary of his arms and rush to the privacy of the bathroom, where I pledge to get my runaway emotions in control before I make a fool of myself with a man who’s been very clear about what he does—and doesn’t—want.

  “I did it!” I shout, watching the enormous fish flip and flop on the end of my first fishing line.

  “Your first silver!” cries Luke, grabbing a net and holding it under the agitated salmon. “I’ve got him! I’ve got him.”

  I walk my fly fishing pole over to the shore, and Luke takes the hook from the salmon’s mouth while it’s still in the net.

  “It’s a beauty,” he says. “You’re a natural!”

  I smile from ear to ear, exhilarated by my first catch. “I have a great teacher.”

  One of the lodge fishing guides, Meredith, comes over to us with a bucket of water. “Nice catch! I can take it to the chef if you want it for dinner?”

  Luke looks over at me and I shake my head. “It’s too pretty to eat. I think I’m more of a catch and release sort of girl.” Both Meredith and Luke look at me like I’m crazy, so I shrug sheepishly. “I’d feel bad eating it. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.”

  “Ooo-kay,” says Meredith, pebbles along the shoreline crunching under her boots as she leaves us to check on a fishing party of four a little ways up the river.

  “Heartbreaking,” says Luke, leaning down to put the gasping fish back into the water.

  I watch its shimmery body orient itself for a moment before it realizes it’s free and swims away. It makes me smile.