The Simple Wild: A Novel(119)

“It’s nice after dark.”

“I’ll have to stay up and see it, one of these nights.” He butts his cigarette out in a can and pulls the outside porch door shut. “Who knew a morning of fishing would wipe me out like that?”

A lump forms in my throat as I study him quietly. It’s been five days since he got out of the hospital. His complexion is still sallow. He’s been ducking away for naps in the afternoons and wincing with his coughing fits, which are becoming more frequent, not less. And the past two nights, I noticed that his dinner plate has had less on it than Mabel’s.

“Maybe we stay home tomorrow. All this flying can’t help with you recovering from last weekend.”

He waves my caution off. “Nah. I’m good. A night’s sleep and I’ll be ready to go.”

I want to believe him. “Jonah said something about going to a bear park tomorrow.”

“He must be thinking about Katmai. I haven’t been there in years.” Dad scratches his chin with interest. “Hope he called Frank.”

“Is that the tour guide that you’ve done a lot of business with?”

“Yeah. Okay, good.” He nods with satisfaction. “I haven’t seen him in person in years. It’ll be good to catch up.”

Once last time, I add in my head, the feeling in my chest heavy.

He begins shuffling toward the house.

“’Night, Dad.” I curl my arms around myself for comfort as much as warmth.

“’Night, kiddo.” He pauses at the door. “So, I take it you’ve forgiven Jonah?”

I sigh. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“At least you didn’t go hungry, up at that cabin.”

“Muskrat, Dad. He let me eat muskrat.” A revelation that had me gagging over the side of the boat when I found out and gritting my teeth for the rest of the way home. Even now, I feel the sudden urge to scrub my tongue.

“That’s Ethel’s specialty. She’s known for it. You liked it well enough, didn’t you?”

I glare at him. “Muskrat.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough. Well, Katmai is a good three hundred miles away, so we’ll have to get an early start. Do me a favor and, if you forgive him enough to go to his place tonight, can you wake me up when you sneak back in in the morning?”

My jaw drops.

“I may be sick, but I’m not blind, Calla.” He smiles. “It’s okay. I’m . . . happy you two have each other.”

“You’re not going to warn me that we’re making a huge mistake?” I ask warily.

“Do you think you are?”

Yes.

No.

“I know it’s not forever. I know he’s going to stay here and I’m going to go home.” I feel like I have to say that out loud, to prove that I’m not some lovesick idiot, that I haven’t deluded myself into thinking this is something it’s not. And yet, I can’t imagine being anything else with Jonah than what we are while I’m here.

Jonah is Alaska to me.

My dad smiles softly. “I’ve got a lot of regrets, kiddo. But falling for your mother has never been one of them.” With that, he disappears inside.



“This is good, Calla. Really good.” Agnes beams at me, and then turns back to Wild’s lobby, which we spent the last two hours transforming into a blue-and-green party room with balloons and streamers for Sharon and Max’s send-off this afternoon. “And we have a lot of food coming.”

“I had legitimate cupcake nightmares,” I admit, eying the trays that sit on the folding tables to the far right, near the receptionist counter. It took Mabel and me all day yesterday to bake and decorate the twelve dozen of them. Exhausted, I fell asleep in Jonah’s bed last night while he was brushing his teeth. “How many people are coming, anyway?”

“More than I invited, I think.” She laughs nervously. “Some of the villagers caught wind of it and are trying to make it down.”

“It’ll be a nice send-off for them, at least.” I didn’t realize Max and Sharon were so popular. “Do you know where my dad is?”

“In town, with the lawyers. He’s trying to get the bulk of the paperwork finalized with Aro.” Agnes sighs as she looks around. “Things are going to change around here pretty soon.”

“But not today.”

She smiles and reaches out to pat my bicep. “Not today.”

“Okay, well, if there’s nothing else, I’m going to run home and get cleaned up. I still have pastel green frosting in my hair, thanks to Jonah.” And a sticky coating of it all over my body, where he decided to smear it before licking it off, but I don’t think Agnes needs or wants to know those extra details.

Her dark eyes roam my face and then take in the messy pile of hair atop my head. But in typical Agnes fashion, she merely smiles.



“Moose meat . . . reindeer dogs . . . king salmon . . . herring eggs . . . bannock. That’s a flat bread. You might like that.” I trail closely behind Jonah as he identifies the various trays of food along the tables, courtesy of the eighty-odd people milling around Wild’s lobby, most from Bangor, but plenty who took the river down from the villages. The place is alive with a buzz of laughter and friendly conversation.