Pathways (9780307822208) (23 page)

Bryn picked up the phone again and dialed Eli’s cell. Her tears started flowing then, at the thought of saying good-bye to her grandfather and in fear of finally seeing her dad again after so long. It had been a couple of years, with the excuses of being cross-country from Bryn and raising two young sons with Ashley. They’d been married almost five years, Bryn figured, counting in her head.

“Alaska Bush,” Eli answered, sounding as though she had awakened him.

“Eli, I’m … s-sorry,” she said through her tears. She choked on her sobs.

“Bryn? Bryn, what’s the matter?”

“It’s my gr-grandfather, Eli. He’s dying. I have to go to Boston.”

“Boston?” He sounded surprised.

“I have to see him one last time, before it’s too late,” she sobbed.

“Of course you do. I’ll be right there, sweetheart. You get your stuff together. I’ll get you to an airport right away. And, Bryn?”

“Uh-huh?” she managed, wiping her nose.

“I love you. Hang on to that, okay?”

“Th-thanks, Eli.”

By the time Bryn got to Anchorage and down to the Lower 48, then all the way across country, it was midnight in Boston. When she emerged from the plane, she saw her father in the terminal, a washed-out expression on his face, and she knew.

“Oh, Dad,” she wept, sinking into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Bryn Bear,” he said, holding her tightly. “He knew you were on your way. We told him. But he died this afternoon.”

They stood there together, clinging to the love they had shared for a man now gone, clinging to each other. Finally her father pulled away a little and kissed her forehead. “It’s for the best, you know. He hasn’t been in good physical shape for a long time. He was ready to go be with Gramma.”

Bryn nodded. “I know. The people left behind are just never
ready.” She had seen it herself a hundred times at the teaching hospital. The deceased let go, and the bereaved wanted to hold on.

Peter let one arm drop and then guided her forward, toward baggage claim, with his other arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“How’s Aunt Luanne?”

“Struggling. It will do her good to see you. Trevor’s here too, down from Maine with his wife.”

Trevor Kenbridge, her cousin, was as close as a brother to her. “Did he get to see Grampa before he died?”

Peter smiled sadly and cocked his head. “Yep. That Trevor always could get your grandfather to laugh. He got his last smile out of him.”

She nodded, looking around. “Dad, is Ashley here? And the kids?”

He glanced at her. She could tell he was trying to cover his surprise at her asking about them. “Yes. At the hotel. Bret’s still napping a lot, and Matthew is a whirlwind, always on the go. We try to give him a little space.” There was an element of pride in his voice, and Bryn felt a flash of grief for allowing her own pain to keep them all separated. Her father deserved happiness. They all did. Life was too short to hold on to anger and bitterness and sorrow over what once was.

“I’d like to see them. While I’m here.”

Peter smiled tentatively. “I’m glad to hear that, Bryn.” He stopped and turned her to him. “I’ve missed you, honey.” They embraced for a short moment and then resumed walking, each wiping tears from their eyes. “So you’re back in Alaska,” he said, changing the subject.

“You know me. You started that whole five-year-cycle thing. Life just doesn’t seem right until I hit that fifth year and go again.”

“You likin’ it? Working up there, I mean?”

“Oh, Dad. It’s so good to be back.”

“Got a card from Ben. Told me your fireplace is still standing. I’ll have to get up there soon and see it.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “Maybe you could bring Ashley and the boys. Let them see a little of your history, our history.” She ignored his misstep at her words, his hesitation as she broke free and walked toward the baggage carousel, which spun around but had no bags to deliver yet.

“I thought,” he said, joining her and staring at the empty silver slats before them, folding and opening as they rounded the corner, “I thought you wouldn’t want Ashley there.”

Bryn turned to face her father. “Dad, it hurt when you left Mom.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Bryn—”

“No,” she said. “It’s okay. Something’s changed for me, Dad. Something big. I think I’m finally ready to forgive you. And Mom. To gather up my family, however ragtag they may be, and take what I can get. Grampa always said that life’s too short. I think I’m finally inclined to agree. Let’s move on, Dad. Not forget about the past. I think we can learn from it. But let’s move on.”

He stared at her then, and Bryn noticed the gray at his temples, the slightly receding hairline. He was still handsome, and the joy that sparkled in his eyes after hearing her words made him practically glow. It was so good to see him again. What had taken her so long? “I love you, Dad,” she whispered.

Peter pulled her back into his arms, kissed her temple tenderly. “I love you too, Bryn Bear.”

After the funeral and reception at the house, Bryn went to a coffeehouse with her cousin Trevor and his wife, Julia, and her old college roommate, Christina Alvarez—now a nautical archaeologist—to catch up. The Kenbridges had let Christina know about Bryn’s grandfather’s death.

“It means so much that you came, Christina,” Bryn said, looking over at the beautiful Spanish-descent brunette across the table. “I was so surprised to look up and see you there. It’s been, what—two, three years?” The two had corresponded off and on since college but rarely had the chance to see each other. Between residency demands and Christina’s world travels in her own graduate work, they were hardly ever in the same place at the same time.

“Three,” Christina said with a smile. “And I was honored to be there. Your grandparents were good to me in college. I’ll never forget those Sunday night dinners at the big house. Ham, pot roast, turkey …”

Bryn smiled and stared at her coffee, which she had been stirring for a solid minute. With slow movements, she removed her spoon and set it beside the huge cup on the matching saucer. It seemed ages since she had sat in a coffeehouse instead of Alice’s café and bar, drinking truck-stop coffee out of chipped white mugs. Or from her own cup at the cabin on the river, or with Eli at Summit.

“Bryn?” Trevor asked. “You okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes, fine. Just thinking.”

Christina and Julia exchanged a knowing glance. “She’s got that look,” Christina said toward Trevor and Julia, still staring at Bryn. “Doesn’t she?”

“What look?” Trevor asked, knitting his brows and staring hard at his cousin as if she had a disease.

“The Look,” Julia said, nodding.

“Who is he?” Christina asked. “Where’d you meet him?”

“There are twice as many men in Alaska as women,” Julia put in.

“You’re in love?” Trevor asked, catching up.

Bryn laughed and shook her head. “Shouldn’t we be talking about Gramps? Reminiscing?”

“Nah, we’ve done that,” Trevor said. “Gramps would be as interested in this as we are, Cuz. Who is he?”

Bryn felt heat rise up her neck. She was blushing, for Pete’s sake! “Eli Pierce,” she said, giving in.

“Eli Pierce?” Trevor repeated.

“Eli … You mean Summit Lake Eli?” Christina asked, putting old stories together with the new. “Across the lake, the handsome neighbor, Eli?”

“That’s the one,” Bryn said with a smile.

“Who’s across-the-lake-handsome-neighbor Eli?” Julia asked.

Trevor sat back in his chair and smugly crossed his arms. “Just the guy she always claimed she was never in love with.”

“He’s been our neighbor on Summit forever,” Bryn explained to Julia. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. This year, everything just clicked.”

“Clicked, huh?” Trevor said, putting an arm around the back of his new wife’s chair.

“Clicked,” Bryn agreed.

“So are we losing you to Alaska forever?” Julia asked.

Her question caught Bryn by surprise. She thought about the letter from Boston Memorial still unanswered on her dresser in Talkeetna. She had been so taken up with Eli, with this love they were discovering, that she hadn’t stopped to consider what autumn
would bring. She’d wanted to savor each day, remember each moment, enjoy the present and let the future work itself out. And yet he hadn’t exactly proposed to her yet.

“Uncle Peter said you got a great job offer from Boston Memorial. If I know you, there are ten more hospitals out there ready to hire you.”

“There are probably hospitals in Alaska,” Julia said wryly.

“But,” Christina broke in, “you’ve worked so hard.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Bryn said, considering Christina’s intimation that accepting a job in Alaska would be the equivalent of throwing in the towel. She took a long, slow sip of coffee. She had worked hard to be at the top of her class, shine above all others to get the prime job offers after residency. Was she willing to throw away all those years of sleepless nights spent studying or at the hospital for a minimum-salary, minimum-prestige job in Alaska?

“Love is worth a lot, Cousin,” Trevor said gently.

“It is,” Julia concurred, taking his hand. They had been a mismatched pair from the start, from different worlds—Julia the heiress who wanted a home, Trevor the traveler. But they were so right for each other. They were so
together
.

“I don’t know,” Christina put in. “She could be making over a hundred thousand next year. Does it make sense to throw all that away?”

“Love doesn’t come knockin’ very often,” Trevor said.

“I just broke up with a boyfriend who wanted me home every night,” Christina said. “I love my work. To cut that off would be like cutting off a part of me. What if Housecalls goes under? Where would you work then? And I know you. You don’t need just any job. You need a job that stimulates your mind, challenges you.”

“Housecalls has done that for me.”

“For a summer. What are they paying you?”

“Room and board. My loans,” she said, holding up a hand to her friend’s unspoken question, “are on deferment for a few months.” She looked around the table sheepishly. “Guess I ought to figure out what I think about it, what my options are, huh?”

“If you’re serious about this guy,” Julia said.

“If you want to stay in Alaska,” Christina said.

“Bryn,” Trevor said, taking her hand and waiting until she looked at him. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If this is love, don’t let it go. You’ve cared for Eli for a very long time. If something magical is happening, don’t walk away. I did, once,” he said, staring at Julia. “And I had to turn back around and break up a wedding to make things right. Don’t get yourself into a bigger bind just because it might be hard to make things work. If God is in this, he’ll see you through, make a path. Loans and all,” Trevor added assuredly.

“You think?” Bryn asked, knowing the answer, just needing to hear it again from someone she knew and respected and loved.

“I know.”

“I know this is it,” Eli said, pacing in Ben’s house. “This is the real thing, Ben.” He looked out toward the other end of Summit, where he’d left three tourists to fish at the river.