The other side of goodby.., p.11
The Other Side of Goodbye, page 11
“Fun, right.” Tisha thought of the cold air, the crunch of snow beneath her feet, and the chill that seeped into her bones. She’d rather bake a pie or hold this puppy for a whole day than traipse around in the forest in the snow. But he was being kind and gracious, and she and Sadie could use the fresh air and exercise.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Megan said, her snow pants swishing together as she and Lance joined them. They’d brought red-and-white-striped plastic containers full of popcorn and mini cans of soda for everyone.
“Oh my,” Tisha said. “Thank you so much.”
“Mom just cranked out a whole batch of fresh popcorn. I couldn’t resist. And Lance here says you need soda with your popcorn.”
“A little salty to go with the sweet,” Tisha said, laughing as the puppy licked her cheek.
“Yeah, that’s what my mama always said.” Lance grinned. “I’ve never heard anyone in Alaska use that expression before.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“I moved around a lot. Can’t really say that I’m from any one place. But my family settled in Fairbanks, and they’re pretty busy with their dog kennels now.”
“Huh, interesting.” Tisha returned the puppy to the bed Lance had arranged in the covered cab of his truck. The mama dog received her puppy and licked it protectively. Meanwhile, Brody and Sadie were arguing about which puppy was cuter.
“Here, maybe it’s snack time.” Ethan produced a squirt bottle of hand sanitizer. Megan set some napkins on the tailgate of the truck, weighting them down with a can of soda, and slid the box with the cartons of popcorn beside them.
Tisha cleaned her hands, then reached for a carton of popcorn for Sadie and cracked open a can of diet soda. What a fun little gathering. The bat cracked against the ball, and the crowd cheered as a woman stomped through the snow in her giant, teardrop-shaped shoes, laughing as she hurried toward first base.
“What’s the matter?” Tisha glanced at Sadie. “Don’t you want any popcorn or Sprite?”
Sadie quirked her lip to one side, then looked away. “I actually have to use the restroom,” she said in a hushed whisper, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“No problem, honey.” Tisha took the popcorn and the unopened can of soda, setting them back on the truck’s tailgate. “I’m glad you said something.” She brushed a stray lock of Sadie’s hair from the collar of her jacket, smiling reassuringly.
“I’ll show you where it is,” Brody offered, puffing out his chest. “I know the way.”
Tisha offered Ethan a questioning glance.
“He can handle it,” he assured her with a nod. “Be a gentleman, Brody. Show her where it is and wait outside the door.”
“I got it, Dad.” Brody held up his palm like a stop sign, clearly eager to prove himself.
“All right. Come right back,” Tisha instructed, watching as Brody motioned for Sadie to follow him inside the resort.
Megan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Brody’s got his father’s leadership skills.”
Ethan grimaced. “Is that a good thing?”
“Of course,” Lance said, pouring some water into a portable bowl for the mama dog.
“You McGuire boys are being awfully attentive today.” Megan gently nudged Ethan’s shoulder, a playful challenge in her voice. “What gives?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan frowned. “I’m always attentive.”
Megan pinched her lips together and gave him a doubtful look.
“We really appreciate you inviting us out here.” Tisha said, determined to intervene before Megan provoked him into a grumpy mood. “Sadie will be talking about these puppies for days.”
One side of his mouth hitched up in a playful smile. “What kind of pie am I today, then, if you think I’m being sweet?”
“I didn’t say you were being sweet. Don’t get carried away.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “But since you asked, I’d say…hmm, strawberry rhubarb.”
“Strawberry rhubarb? Those do not go together.”
“Hey, they sure do! I’ll make you a strawberry-rhubarb pie. You’ll see.”
“Take your time. I think I can wait.” He leaned back against the tailgate, crossing his arms with a smirk.
“By the way, where have you been? I never accepted your resignation as my official taste tester. I had to rely on the commoners for feedback this week.”
Something flashed in his eyes, and his expression turned serious. “So you’re saying you missed me?”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Interesting. Well, I guess I’ll have to come back again. What’s been your biggest hit so far?”
“I served some coconut custard to a lady who missed her flight on her way to her Hawaiian vacation. She said it was good, and then I served her husband chocolate chess pie.”
“Chocolate what?”
“I know. It’s a Southern thing. Long story short, it’s just a chocolate pie with whipped cream that I made myself. He loved it.”
“Sweet. Whipped cream is always a good idea.”
“Noted.”
His arm brushed against hers as he reached for a carton of popcorn. “You know, all kidding aside,” he said, popping a few kernels into his mouth, “I do think you’re up to something good with your pie. We have to find small victories where we can get them this time of year, right?”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Warmth stirred in her chest. “I really am just taking it one day at a time, trying to find my way.”
“That’s relatable,” he nodded, his gaze steady.
Tisha glanced at Megan and her boyfriend, who were too absorbed with each other to pay attention to their conversation. Lowering her voice, she added, “I really want Sadie to have a great life, you know? She’s heard a dozen stories—probably more—about how much I loved living in Alaska after I graduated from college. North Carolina has a lot to offer, but my family sort of scattered after my dad passed. Only one of my sisters is married with a family, and things just weren’t the same once we sold the farm. I want her to carry a piece of her dad with her.”
“I get that,” Ethan said, cracking open a soda. “Sometimes we have to do the hard, scary things because we know it’s going to be what’s best in the long run. But I think you’re very brave, moving here. Not a lot of single moms would start over close to their in-laws, you know? I really admire what you’re doing.”
“Uh-huh. Is that a compliment, Ethan McGuire?”
“Indeed, it is.” His gaze met hers, then held for a beat longer than necessary. “Don’t get used to it. I don’t hand them out very often.”
“Wow. Banner day.” She wasn’t about to admit how much his compliments about her pie and her parenting skills meant to her.
She took a long drink of her soda, grounding herself in the truth. They were here for Brody and Sadie, and for the puppies, but mostly to ensure that their kids learned to get along. Well-adjusted kids—that was their shared goal, but nothing more.
And yet, as Ethan laughed at something Brody said, an unexpected warmth blossomed in her chest. Not entirely unwelcome either. Until she glanced at Sadie, whispering softly to the puppy cradled in her arms. Falling for Ethan was one thing. But letting her daughter see a new relationship unfold? That probably wouldn’t end well.
Wow, he had really mismanaged this.
Ethan pulled off his knit hat, swiped the back of his hand across his forehead, then put his hat back on, feeling the chill of the Alaska air pierce through his layers. The snow crunched underfoot, and the cold nipped at his cheeks, reminding him of how far he was from the warmth of Florida’s coastline.
“Mama, I’m freezing! Can we go back?” Sadie trembled, her little face scrunched up with displeasure, and her breath visible in the frosty air.
“Yeah, Dad, this isn’t any fun.” Brody had found a stick, likely a branch that had fallen from a tree. Now, he was whacking the broad base of a healthy spruce tree, sending snow cascading down onto Sadie.
“Brody, stop! That’s cold!” Sadie squealed, her eyes wide as the snow showered down on her.
“What? What did I do?” Brody turned and looked up at Ethan, confusion etched on his face.
“When you hit the tree, you knocked snow off the branches, bud,” Ethan said.
“And it went down my coat,” Sadie said, her eyes shimmering with impending tears.
“Oh no! Oh no, please don’t cry. Brody, what do you say?” Ethan urged, a knot tightening in his stomach.
“Sorry. I didn’t know,” Brody mumbled and tossed the stick aside, glancing apologetically at Sadie. Ethan turned toward Tisha, who stood beside him, cheeks flushed from the cold. The light that normally sparkled in her beautiful eyes had dimmed, replaced by a look of shared concern.
So she looked totally annoyed too. Super. Ethan blew out a long breath.
Brody gasped, suddenly distracted by the whine of an engine through the trees. “What’s that sound?”
“Uncle Luke has a snow machine out,” Ethan said.
“Do you think he’ll tow us?” Brody tromped in a semicircle in his snowshoes, clearly ready to head for the resort.
“We’re not broken down,” Sadie said, her voice rising.
Brody rolled his eyes. “We tie a rope to this thing. It looks like a giant cereal bowl, and we climb inside. Then he tows us back and forth around the parking lot. It’s super fun! You have to try it, Sadie.”
Tisha glanced at Ethan, skepticism written all over her face. “Do tell. What’s the story there?”
“Years ago, when the utility company installed fiberglass balls on the power lines to warn pilots about the overhead obstructions, they had a couple left over. So they asked my parents if they wanted them. Brody’s right. It is kind of like a cereal bowl, and we run a rope through a bolt hole, tie the other end to the back of a snow machine, and pull each other around.”
“What’s a snow machine?” Sadie asked, breathing hard as she plodded along on her snowshoes. Probably wanted to keep up with Brody, who’d picked up the pace.
Ethan stayed beside Sadie. “A snowmobile or a snow machine. It runs on a track and handles like an ATV.”
“Oh.” Her breath left little white clouds in the air. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
“You’ve never ridden on the back of a snow machine?” Ethan asked, glancing at Tisha.
“Nope.”
“Oh, we’ve got to change that,” Ethan said.
“Dad, I’m thirsty.” Brody stopped and called back over his shoulder. “Did you bring any water?”
“No. Let’s go back to the resort,” Ethan said, resisting the urge to sigh. Strike two. No snacks or beverages. He tried not to rush ahead, but now that he had failed at this outdoor adventure, he wanted to get back and forget about it as quickly as possible.
“Ladies, you go first,” he said, gesturing for Tisha and Sadie to go ahead of him.
Note to self: Don’t take kids accustomed to playing outdoors in the South on a snowshoe adventure, no matter how much they say they want to try new things.
An agonizing twenty minutes later, punctuated with lots of whining, they emerged from the trees. The resort came into view, a warm beacon against the cold backdrop. Ethan slowed his pace, and the tension eased from his jaw.
“Thank You, Lord,” he whispered, his shoulders dipping as the weight of the last thirty minutes loosened its grip.
“Yeah, a hundred percent.” Tisha reached over and high-fived his gloved hand. The warmth of her smile ignited something inside him that he couldn’t quite name.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel like I really screwed this up.”
“Why do you think that?”
“People are whining. I didn’t bring any beverages or snacks. Snowshoeing evidently isn’t as fun as I thought it was.” Just then, the pungent smell of exhaust from the snow machine filled the air, and Luke zipped by, Megan squealing in delight as she held on to the edge of the bright-red cereal-bowl sled.
“Oh my.” Tisha tracked her movements, her eyebrows raised. “That does look fun, but also sort of terrifying.”
“Yeah, it only hurts if you fall out.” Ethan laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it, a reminder of how quickly joy could turn to chaos. “I’m just kidding. I mean, yes, it is bad if you fall out, but Luke is a perfectly safe driver. I’m going to stop talking now.”
Tisha frowned. “I’m not really sure I want to put my kid on that.”
“I’ll go,” Brody said, eager. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Let’s take off our snowshoes first and put them away.”
“Aw, man,” Brody said, frowning. “Can’t I just leave them here?”
“No, you may not. We have to pick up after ourselves, bud.”
They took off their snowshoes. Ethan helped Brody and then Sadie. Tisha tried, but then she looked at him and blew out a long breath.
“Here.” He knelt beside her in the snow and undid the bindings. The feel of her hand on his back made his pulse thrum—a stark reminder of how long he’d been alone.
“There. You’re all set.” He glanced at her, and their eyes locked.
“Thanks.” She smiled, and for a moment the world around them faded.
“You’re welcome.”
“Please don’t worry about this.” She stepped out of the bindings, then picked up the snowshoes. “It’s good for us to try new things.”
“That’s really sweet of you to say, but I can tell you all are miserable.”
“Miserable is kind of a strong word. It’s just…it was hard. It was challenging. Good exercise though. Kept the kids off their devices, and we got outside. It’s a beautiful day so—”
“Tisha, relax. You don’t have to sugarcoat this for me. I get it. Snowshoeing is not your thing.”
Her expression grew serious, her smile fading. “I appreciate you getting us outdoors. Really, I do. Brody and Sadie tried something new, and my daughter experienced the joy of having cold, wet snow fall down the inside of her jacket.”
“Ha. Yeah. Brody taught her an important life lesson there.” He turned and waved his hands in the air to get Luke’s attention. The snowmobile slowed to a stop in front of them, the sound fading as he eased up on the throttle.
“Hey, everybody.” Luke flipped up the visor on his helmet. “How was your adventure in the woods?”
“Terrible,” said Brody. “They don’t like snowshoeing.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Can we go sledding instead?”
“If you can talk your aunt Megan out of giving up her turn.”
“Yeah, I’m good. That was fun. But I’m more than happy to let you guys have a try.” Megan climbed out of the bowl. “Thanks, Luke.”
“I’m going first,” Brody said. “Sadie’s too scared. And Miss Tisha said no thank you.”
“I’m not scared. I just want to see you do it first,” Sadie said, her chin lifted defiantly.
“Okay.” Brody shrugged. “Watch this.”
Megan held on to the edge of the fiberglass bowl, giving Brody a hand climbing inside. “Okay, sit on your bottom, keep your hands and feet inside. Remember?”
“Yep, got it. Let’s go, Uncle Luke.”
“All right.” Luke grinned, then flipped his visor down.
Ethan saw his own image in his brother’s reflective lens, lines of worry etched deep. His phone hummed in his pocket. He pulled it out.
“Ugh. Not again.” He thumbed the call away, but the weight of it lingered.
“You know, you do that a lot. Who’s calling you so much that you don’t want to talk to?” Tisha asked, her brow furrowing.
“Hey, Sadie, want to make some snow angels?” Megan offered, her voice bright and inviting.
“I guess,” Sadie said, hesitating. “What’s a snow angel again?”
“Come here.” Megan guided Sadie a few feet away, leaving Ethan and Tisha alone, an electric tension hanging between them.
“So, my late wife, Adeline, she was amazing. She did a lot of great things for our community, no matter where we lived. She was the lady who helped the other Coastie wives feel welcome and get settled and plugged in. She did some philanthropic work, and her best friend wants to do a story—kind of like a long-form interview, I guess. I don’t really know what to call it, but she wants me to answer several questions, and I keep telling her no, but she is not taking no for an answer.”
“Why don’t you want to do it? Sounds really cool.”
“Probably for the same reason you would resist if someone wanted to write an article about Chase. It’s hard. I don’t really want to talk about her. I’m trying to put all of that behind me. She was a really incredible mom, and I’m focused on Brody because right now I’m a mediocre dad.”
“Oh, that’s not true,” she said, her tone earnest. “You’re a great dad.”
“I don’t feel like a great dad. Evidently, my kid has a learning issue that I didn’t know anything about.”
Tisha’s mouth formed an O. “Really?”
“Yeah, he can’t read.”
“You know, Sadie mentioned that he might be having a tough time. She struggled at first too. But I just read to her a lot and made sure she knew her letters and her sounds, and she’s pretty much back on track.”
If only it were that simple. He hesitated, biting back the sarcastic comment. “He literally cannot read. I think he has some substantial issues, and Adeline would have just handled it, figured it out, given me the update when I was home.”
“Listen, I’m sorry that you lost your wife, and I hate that Brody has to grow up without his mom, but you are a good dad. I’m certain you’ll figure this out and get Brody the help he needs.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve watched you with him, and I can see by the way you act with your family. You protect your people. You care about them, Ethan. That matters. You’re a person of character.”
“Aw, stop. You’re making me blush.” He tipped his head, trying to deflect the sincerity of her words, but they struck a chord deep within him.
“It’s true.”
“Well, thank you,” he said, his voice softening. “By the way, I hope I wasn’t out of line saying you wouldn’t want a story written about Chase, because if anybody was going to write about a great pilot who made a difference in the world, it would be about Chase Binford.”
