The Simple Wild: A Novel(122)

I should have had the guts to come and find out all the things he is.

Loaded silence lingers in the plane.

Jonah sighs. “You should have called him. He should have called you. Your mom should never have left. Wren should have left Alaska for you. Who the hell knows what’s right, and what it would have led to, but it doesn’t matter because you can’t change any of that.” His thumb draws a soothing circle over my spine, just below my neck. “My dad and I didn’t have a great relationship; I think you’ve probably figured that out. It always seemed to be a power struggle with him. He didn’t take too well to not having control over my life. Said a lot of shitty things and never once followed them up with an apology.

“Cutting him off and moving up here was the right thing to do; I knew that in my gut. Still, in those last few days, watching him go, listening to him tell me how much he regretted trying to force what he wanted on me, I kept playin’ conversations in my head, over and over again, finding things I should have said or done, times I should have reached out. You can spend an entire lifetime doing that and still get nowhere.” He lifts his baseball cap off his head and lets it settle onto his knee. “I found this a few days after the funeral, in his closet. There was a whole box of USAF stuff. Hat, sweatshirt, jacket . . . all still with tags on them, along with a card he wrote to me, telling me how much he loved me and how excited he was that I’d get to experience that life. I guess he had it all ready to give me after I was officially enlisted, and then he shoved it in the closet and tried to forget about it when it didn’t happen.” Jonah’s lips press together. “He’s been gone five years and I still feel guilty every time I look at this damn thing.”

I rub away my tears.

“You’re not alone. You’ve got me. And I’ve got you, and we’ll get through this together.” He slides a gentle hand up and down my arm.

“Even if I’m in Toronto?”

His chest swells with a deep breath. “There’s this thing called a phone.”

“You are actually mocking me about a phone.”

“Oh wait, that’s right. You don’t like calling your friends,” he mutters wryly.

I know he means to lighten the mood, and yet my stomach clenches. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

He curses under his breath, and then sighs again. “We’re complicated. That’s what we are.”

There’s that goddamn word again.

“Have you heard of a goose-wife?”

There’s a pause and then Jonah chuckles, sliding his hat back on. “Ethel and her tales.”

“She said you were the raven and I was your goose-wife. What did she mean?”

“It’s just a silly story, about a raven that falls in love with a goose.”

“And what happens?”

He chews his lip, as if deciding if he should continue.

“Fine. I’ll just Google it.” I slip my phone from my pocket.

He reaches over to seize my hand within his and sighs in resignation. “They stay together for the summer, and when she leaves just before the first snowfall, he decides to follow her south. But there’s no way he can survive the flight across the ocean. Finally, he has no choice but to say goodbye and go home.”

“Why doesn’t she go back with him?”

“Because she’s a goose. She can’t survive the winter,” he admits reluctantly.

My chest tightens. “That story doesn’t sound so silly after all.”

In fact, it sounds a hell of a lot like us. Maybe not the falling-in-love part, but certainly the rest of it. Though, whatever I feel for Jonah, I’d be fooling myself if I didn’t recognize it as much more than a frivolous crush on an attractive guy.

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” The look on Jonah’s face tells me he sees the truth of it, too.



Jonah and my father are waiting next to Veronica when I pull into Wild’s parking lot in Jonah’s truck.

“Did you sort out all the accounting stuff?” I ask, my spirits oddly high today, thanks to the clear blue skies and warm sun. In the three weeks that I’ve been here, this is by far the nicest day we’ve had.

“Yup,” Jonah mutters, his arms folded across his chest and a severe look painted across his face.

“What’s going on?” I ask warily.

“Nothin’,” my dad murmurs, smiling, and I try to ignore the heavy feeling weighing down my chest as I take in his thin frame and his tired eyes. He went to bed last night right after barely eating dinner and was still asleep when I came home from Jonah’s.

“So . . . where are we going today?”

“You and I are gonna go for a little spin around the block, kiddo,” he says.

“Just us?” I glance at Jonah, to see his jaw clench. That’s what’s pissed him off so much.

“It’s fine.” My dad smiles with assurance. “Just this once.”

I hold my breath.

After a moment, Jonah finally nods.



“You good?” My dad’s voice fills my headset as he grips the yoke, his contented smile focused on the wide-open sky.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“It just feels strange,” I finally admit. “This is my first time flying without Jonah in one of these planes.”