Authors: Kristan Higgins
“Had to give it a shot,” he said amicably. “I’ll take Coco out, then. Wanna go for a walk, Coco-Buns?” he asked, and my dog sprang to life as if electrocuted, leaping straight into the air at the
W
word, then grabbing her bunny in her mouth and shaking it exuberantly. “Back in a few,” he said, clipping on her pink leash. The door closed behind them.
With a sigh that started in the soles of my feet, I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The Plan to Marry Dennis was over. Already, the thought of the big lug’s absence echoed around my heart. I had a lot of good things back on the Vineyard, but Dennis had filled a big hole in my life. A big one. Now the thought of my future stretched out ahead of me. Alone again.
Buck up
, I told myself.
You have Coco. You have Ben & Jerry. A job you’re great at, friends, a deck and a view. You can still have a kid…adoption, sperm donor, new relationship, whatever.
But I’d miss Dennis. It wasn’t the yawning, bottomless panic I’d felt when Nick and I had imploded, but crap. It hurt anyway.
T
HE NEXT MORNING
I
WOKE
abruptly and squinted over at the clock. 8:47. The room was empty; apparently I’d slept through Dennis’s departure. Indeed, if his flight left at seven, he’d be well on his way home by now. Lucky man. I hauled myself out of bed, the three martinis from yesterday making themselves felt. Coco raised her head from her bunny, affirmed that yes, I looked like utter crap, and rolled onto her back, legs in the air, and feigned roadkill. On the dresser, there was a note from Dennis.
Harp, I took Coco out for a quick walk. See you back home, I’m sure. Thanks for everything. - Den.
Well. That was…nice. With a sigh, I checked my phone for messages—blick. Lots. I listened dutifully—six from Tommy, two of them work-related, four of them personal, detailing his roller-coaster feelings about his slutty wife, who, though she had promised to stop seeing FedEx as of Friday, had in fact sneaked off to meet him on Saturday, and Tommy wasn’t sure if he should put his foot down. Two messages from Theo, wondering why I hadn’t been to work on Friday—the man had a memory like a sieve. A message from earlier this morning from BeverLee; she and Dad were on their way to Salt Lake City and wondered if I’d come to dinner on Friday to relive Willa’s wedding. A text from Kim, just checking in. It was nice to have a girlfriend…most of my other female friends were from college or law school, not the day-to-day types. I figured I’d call her back from Denver, where I had a two-hour layover and would have time to chat. And a text from Father Bruce.
Call me when you get back. Hope all is well. Don’t forget your RAoKs…your immortal soul can use all the help it can get. As can we all.
RAoKs. Random acts of kindness. That made me smile. I typed him back a quick answer and hit send. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, I texted Willa.
Hope you have a great honeymoon. Here’s my credit card number, just in case you need anything. Call me soon.
An hour later, I was showered, packed and ready to go. I clipped on Coco’s leash and went downstairs. My shuttle left at eleven; plenty of time for breakfast. Though the lodge served brunch, no one from the wedding seemed to be afoot. Glacier’s season was winding down; another week and snow could easily shut down Going to the Sun Road. Strange that back home, it’d still be summer.
Home sweet home, where I’d be safe and sound. And single, I added with a small dart of self-pity. Soon, no doubt, I’d be seeing Dennis with someone else. Sighing, I assessed my mood. Melancholy…but not ruined, certainly. When Nick and I had gone down in flames…well. No point in revisiting that memory. One didn’t really enjoy remembering the time when one had been a quivering, raw, pathetic mess. Surely, simply feeling blue was a sign of maturity. Or something.
I ate on the patio, reading the local paper, occasionally granting Coco bits of toast and an occasional strip of bacon, which she snapped up with sound-barrier speed before she resumed her intent staring. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was time to get moving. The shuttle was due in a few minutes.
I’d miss Montana, I realized with a small shock. Lake McDonald was dark blue and choppy today. On the far side, the craggy mountain loomed, the white of the glacier ruthlessly bright. My heart squeezed. Chances were, I’d never make it back here. For some reason, things felt…unfinished, somehow.
“Oh, well, Coco-Butter,” I said to my dog. “Time to go home.”
The line for the shuttle was rather long…looked as if everyone was leaving today. I was glad I’d made a reservation last night. The young mother whose baby had dropped the pacifier came up behind me and said good morning, and I nodded back. The shuttle driver took tickets and checked our names off his list. “And twelve,” he said, checking my name off the list. “Okay, that’s it. Sorry, ma’am,” he told the young mother. “Can’t take any walk-ons today. These folks all had a reservation. You’ll have to wait for the next shuttle at noon.”
“Oh, no! Shoot. Do you think I’ll make my flight?” she asked him. “It’s at twelve-thirty.”
“Probably not,” the driver said.
Should’ve thought of that before,
I thought, picking up Coco and grabbing the handle of my suitcase. But then I stopped. Glanced at my watch. It took about forty-five minutes to get to the airport; the shuttle left hourly. I had plenty of time.
“You can have my spot,” I said magnanimously. “My flight’s not till one forty-five.”
The young mother’s face lit up. “Really? Are you sure?” But she was already hoisting the diaper bag and grabbing the handle of the baby’s car seat.
“Sure. Go ahead.” The child stared at me solemnly. Destiny, as I recalled. Quite a name. She certainly was a beautiful child…flawless skin and a rosebud mouth, giant, wise blue eyes.
“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” the mom exclaimed. “Have a great day! Safe home!”
“You too,” I said. There. Random act done, and it was a significant act at that. I couldn’t wait to tell Father Bruce. Feeling rather holy, I waved to the mother and child, then got another cuppa joe.
Fresh mug of coffee steaming, I went back out on the patio to read a little more.
There was Nick, sitting at the table I’d vacated not ten minutes earlier, staring out at the lake. I jerked to a stop—damn, it was still a shock to see him—then kept going.
“Nick,” I said as I passed.
“Harper,” he answered, flicking his eyes to me for the briefest instant.
I sat at another table, not too far away. Didn’t want to seem like I couldn’t stand the very sight of him.
I’d have to accept that should Willa and Christopher stay together, I’d be seeing Nick once in a while. The occasional holiday or birthday or whatnot. And that would be fine. We had a turbulent past, we’d always have some feelings for each other, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum. He was simply a mistake from my youth. Everyone has her heart broken at least once. Didn’t mean the heart didn’t mend and indeed, grow stronger.
I took out a pen, turned to the crossword puzzle and settled Coco on my lap (she liked to help). Coffee, delicious. Crossword, challenging. Dog, adorable. Ex-husband, invisible, thanks to a senior citizen tour group, which had descended from a motor coach. A veritable sea of white heads prevented me from catching even the slightest glimpse of Nick, and I was grateful.
A short while later, my random act of kindness bit me in the ass.
“What? How can it be shut down?” I asked.
“Ma’am, all I know is what they told me at the airport. The last flight left an hour ago, but since then, the whole fleet’s been grounded. Something about a problem with a software upgrade in the navigation system. Nobody can take off, nobody can come in.”
“That can’t be.”
“All they told me is that until this is fixed, no planes are leaving Kalispell City Airport, none are coming in.”
“None
is
coming. It’s singular.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Sorry. Um, well, what about the other airports near here?”
“All three of the regional airports have the same problem.”
“Are you kidding me?” I yelped.
“No, ma’am.” He stared at me, resigned patience clearly running thin.
“When will they be flying again?”
“The controller at the airport said two days, minimum.”
“Two
days
?” I screeched. Coco barked, voicing her own indignation. “Seriously, are you kidding me?”
“No, ma’am.” I sensed he was about to kick me.
I took a breath. “Okay. Can you take me to the nearest unaffected airport?”
“That would be either Yakima, Washington, or Salt Lake City. And no, ma’am, I can’t take you there.”
“Crotch.” I thought a second. “Well. How about a rental car? Can you take me to Avis? My boyfriend just returned our car this morning. I’ll pick it up again and just drive myself to wherever.”
“Well, when we got the news, a bunch of folks asked me to take them to the same place, but sure, I’ll take you there. You might want to call first and see if they have any cars available.”
They didn’t. Ten minutes later, I’d tried the other two rental car companies in the area. The surly driver was right. Oh, this was maddening! Apparently, when the fleet had been grounded, the people already at or en route to the airport (and I would’ve been among them, had I not done my stupid random act of kindness) had been bused to the rental places and snapped up the rather few cars in stock. I was stuck here.
Well. That would be okay. I could stay a day or two. I had my laptop, of course. I could work from my room…let’s see, I didn’t have court this week, so that was good…I had a meeting with opposing counsel on a case, but I could conference-call that one. And maybe I could even see a little more of the park, and that unfinished feeling would fade.
I wheeled my luggage, Coco in tow, over to the desk clerk. “Hi,” I said in my warmest tone, the one I used on Judge McMurtry’s clerk when I needed an extension. “Listen, I have a little problem. I don’t have a way of getting home, so I’ll need to keep my room for another day or so.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” the girl said. “Sorry to say, we’re booked.”
“Booked?” I blurted.
She smiled sweetly. “This Elderhostel group has all the rooms. I’m really sorry. Do you want me to try somewhere else in the park?”
“Yes, please,” I said, a trickle of panic flowing up my spine. The girl began typing…and typing…and typing. “Anything?” I asked tightly.
“I’m super sorry,” she said after typing seven or eight more pages. “A lot of the park is already closed, and it looks like Elderhostel kind of owns the rest of the rooms we do have this next week.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“We have tent rentals available,” she suggested.
“I’m not sleeping in a tent!” I protested, my voice a tad shrill. “Do I look like the camping type? Plus, I was already almost eaten by a grizzly bear! And I’d freeze to death! It was thirty-four degrees last night!”
“Harper.”
Super. Insult to injury. I turned around. “I’m a little busy, Nick.”
His face was neutral. “You can come with me.”
My mouth dropped open. “You.”
“Yes. I’m driving East. I can get you to an airport along the way.”
“You’re driving?”
“Yep.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“How far?”
“All the way to New York.”
A prickle started in my stomach, reminding me of something before my brain caught on. Oh. right. There it was. My face flushed.
“Take it or leave it, Harper,” Nick said, glancing at his watch. “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes.”
CHAPTER TEN
A
N HOUR LATER
, I
WAS
sitting in Nick’s rented Mustang, Coco and her bunny at my side, a map on my lap. We were heading east on Route 2. The plan was for Nick to take me to Bismarck, North Dakota. All the other airports between here and there had grounded their tiny fleets, thanks to some glitch in an air-traffic-control-software upgrade. Damn computers.
Glacier was behind us, the Rockies towering in the rearview mirror as clouds scudded among their peaks.
Thanks, Teddy,
I thought with a pang as we left the park, and I turned back to say goodbye. Someday, maybe, I’d come back. Sure. My future child and I would vacation here, and I’d show him/her the spot where Mommy was almost mauled by the giant grizzly bear. Or not. That might be upsetting to a child.
Note to self: buy Dr. Spock ASAP
. With a sigh, I turned to face forward and fondled Coco’s silky little ears.
Nick’s ’Stang was a convertible, of course. A man can’t have a suitable midlife crisis without his trophy car being a convertible or his trophy wife being a blonde. The wind ruffled Nick’s hair as if directed by the gods of
GQ Magazine
. Add to this the fact that he wore blue-tinted sunglasses, a black T-shirt and jeans and looked irritatingly gorgeous. Coco, who got quite squealy around Dennis, had thus far ignored Nick. Good doggy.
Nick glanced at me, making me realize I was staring at him. “So what happened to Dennis?” he asked.
“He had an earlier flight. We, uh…we couldn’t get seats on the same plane.”
“Really.” His tone suggested he knew something different.
“Mmm-hmm.” Abruptly, I shifted my attention to the map. “So, okay, the interstate is about—”
“We’re not going to.” He didn’t look at me.
“But—”
“I know.”
“Nick, that means—”
“Yup.”
“Seriously, Nick? You do realize that not taking the interstate will add hours and hours to our lovely sojourn together, don’t you?”
“Yes, Harper. I’m aware. But this is my trip. You’re merely baggage, emotionally and cargowise.”
“Ha, ha.”
He deigned to look at me. “It’ll take about thirteen hours, all told.”
I glanced at my watch. “Okay, it’s one now, so if we take turns driving and drive all night, we’ll—”
“We’re stopping for the night.”
I gritted my teeth. “Great! Then we can enjoy each other’s company that much longer.” I smiled sweetly at him, which he ignored. Fine. So we’d stop at some hotel. I’d be in Bismarck…let’s see…I could be there tomorrow by ten, assuming we drove till nine tonight and were on the road by seven tomorrow morning. Not bad. Survivable.
But still. Stuck in the car with Nick. The hum of electricity was quite uncomfortable.
“So. A road trip, huh?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Quite the midlife crisis you’re having, Nicky.”
“I’m thirty-six,” he said.
“Almost thirty-seven,” I couldn’t help saying.
“And it’s been a lifelong dream,” he said, finally looking at me. “As you well know.”
I sure did. Pulling Coco onto my lap, I turned my attention out the window. U.S. Route 2 was no more than a two-way road, though it was a corridor through the entire Northwest. We’d left the mountains surprisingly fast, and around us were only the Great Plains—fields of browning grass as far as the eye could see, and above us, the endless blue sky, streaked with thin white clouds. The air was cool, the sun relentless, and I was glad to have slathered on the fifty-factor sunscreen, as I burned easily. Towns with sweet names and tiny populations were listed on the map—Cut Bank, Beaver Creek, Wolf Point.
Nick had been quiet since offering me the ride. I was rather sure he regretted it now. For someone who’d blurted that he’d never stopped loving me, kissed me into the middle of next week and was now chauffeuring me to the next state, he seemed a bit…constipated. Perhaps therein lay the problem.
“So, Nick, do you want to talk about what happened this weekend?” I offered, turning to look at him. Strands of hair had escaped my ponytail, and the wind whipped them into my eyes.
Nick glanced at me. “No.” Then he reached into the backseat, groped around for a second and pulled out a faded Yankees cap. “Here,” he said.
I took the extended offering. “Won’t I turn into a pillar of salt if I wear this? Being from Red Sox Nation and all?”
He gave me a lightning smile, and my heart answered with a quick trill. “Give it a try and let’s see,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road.
I put on the hat. Not only did my hair stop whipping around, my face was shaded, too. “Thanks,” I said. He nodded. “Okay, well, if you’re not going to talk about things, I will,” I added.
Nick closed his eyes briefly.
“Here’s the thing, Nick. Um, that thing you said when we thought the bear would eat us…pretend I didn’t hear. Just a little blast of ubersentimentality, heat of the moment, death imminent and all that.”
He sighed. “No, Harper. It was the truth.”
Well, crotch. “You still…love me.”
“Yes.”
My ability to remain speechless lasted roughly three seconds. “And you also said you hated me, too.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think you meant that. I don’t hate you.”
“I can’t possibly state my relief.” He took a swig of water.
“And as far as the kiss…well. We were both feeling very nostalgic. Let’s just give each other a free pass on that, okay?”
“Are you going to keep talking about this, Harper? Because I can let you out any place along here.” He gave me a look, his expression veiled.
“Okay, fine. Sorry.” I looked straight ahead. The road stretched to the horizon, and the fields beside us seemed endless. Not a heck of a lot of scenery, apparently. I glanced at the dashboard. Super. We were doing forty. The speed limit was seventy-five.
Being a native New Yorker, Nick had always relied on public transportation. He got his license only his senior year of college, something I’d often teased him about when we were together. Back then, on the rare occasions when he did get behind the wheel, he was your basic novice…hands at ten and two, eyes fixed on the road, puttering along at the speed of a limping snail. I could see things hadn’t changed.
“Want me to drive?” I offered.
“Nope.”
“The speed limit’s a wee bit higher than you’re going.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“This car is wasted on you.”
“Shut up, Harper.” He reached forward and turned on the radio. Country music, expected here in the land of cowboys. The singer’s woman had left him for another man. Not exactly groundbreaking material.
“I brought my iPod,” I informed my driver.
“I brought mine too,” he said. “But let’s listen to the local station and drink in the scenery, shall we, dearest ex-wife?”
“Oh, of course. So how’s life been, Nicky-bear?”
“Very good, thanks.”
“You’re a successful architect?”
“Yes.”
“What type of buildings do you design?” I couldn’t seem to stop the interrogation, but crotch. We were stuck in the car together. What else were we supposed to do? Relive our happy times?
“We make corporate buildings, mostly.”
“Skyscrapers?”
“Not so much. The biggest building we’ve done is eight stories. We’ve done some boutique hotels, two museum wings. But someday, a skyscraper. The firm is still relatively new.”
“Do you ever do houses?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Once in a great while. The real prestige comes from the bigger stuff.”
And prestige was what Nick had always wanted. Maybe to show his father that he was somebody, maybe because he just wanted to be the best. We hadn’t been together long enough for me to find out.
“Good for you,” I said.
“And I’m sure you’re a big success as well,” he said, an edge to his voice. “So many divorces, so little time.”
“Speaking of,” I said, suppressing a surge of irritation. Flipping open my phone, I was happy to see I had a signal. I hit Tommy’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Tommy, how are you?” I asked.
“Oh, Harper. Hi. Um…not that good. I’m really sad.” He certainly sounded sad. Sadder even than the current singer, whose dog had just been run over by the wayward wife as she stole his John Deere. Was there no Carrie Underwood out here? No Lady Antebellum?
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I just can’t stop thinking about Meggie. How happy we were. How do things get so off track, Harper? She loved me once.”
Which means absolutely zilch,
I thought, glancing at Nick. “Well, I’m not sure.”
“I just keep thinking there’s something I could do to get our old life back. I don’t want a divorce. Christ, it’s such a…failure.”
“I don’t think so, buddy. Sometimes, divorce is just the act that will rectify a mistake.” Nick snorted. I ignored him. Sort of. “After all, marriage means different things to different people.
You
didn’t go off shtupping the FedEx man, did you? No.” I gave Nick a rather smug look.
See? This divorce is a good thing.
“You, Tom, wanted something different. Fidelity. Friendship. Love. You wanted to spend time with your spouse.” Another pointed look at my ex. “You put the marriage first, and Meggie clearly didn’t. Am I right?”
“I guess,” Tommy admitted.
“Right. And as much as I’d like to console you and tell you things will all work out and you’ll live happily ever after, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I did. If she doesn’t want counseling, and she won’t take your phone calls, and she’s sleeping with another man…I’d say she wants out. I’m really sorry, Tommy. It’s going to take some time for your heart to catch on to what your head already knows.”
Nick rolled his eyes. Coco sneezed, then rested her head on my knee.
I spent a couple of more minutes murmuring sympathetically to my heartbroken paralegal before losing signal. Sighing, I closed my phone.
“Was that fun for you?” Nick asked. I noted he was gripping the steering wheel rather tightly, though we still hadn’t broken the forty-three-mile-an-hour barrier.
“No, Nick. Not at all. Tommy’s my friend, and I don’t like seeing him miserable.” He didn’t answer. “Why? What advice would you give to a guy whose brand-new wife was sleeping with someone else?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, my face grew hot, and my stomach lurched. Nick didn’t say a word. Didn’t turn his head, either. A new song was playing on the radio, something about dead soldiers, in case the mood wasn’t bad enough.
Coco whined, then head-butted my hand. “Um, Nick, Coco needs a rest stop.”
He took his foot off the gas, clicked on the turn signal (so quaint…we never bothered with that in Massachusetts) and slowly, slowly pulled onto the shoulder, as if we were in heavy traffic on Storrow Drive, rather than out in the wilderness with only a very occasional truck for company. When the car stopped, I clipped the leash to Coco’s collar and started to get out, then hesitated.
“I never cheated on you, Nick,” I said abruptly, and to my surprise, a lump came to my throat.
He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his forehead, then looked at me. “No, I guess not.” For a brief second, something flashed in my chest. He believed me? Then he added, “Not technically, anyway.”
My jaw clenched. “Not technically, not in any way.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Okay. Would love to discuss, can’t. My dog has to pee.” I got out of the car and set Coco down.
It didn’t serve to be mad at Nick. He wasn’t a forgiving person…well, not where I was concerned. I’d screwed up, sure. But so had he. I’d admitted my wrongdoing. He never would. Hence our divorce. All facts, all in the past. Still, I guessed my blood pressure was in the DefCon Four range at the moment.
Damn it. Accepting Nick’s offer of a ride was a huge mistake. I’d be better off fighting grizzlies and shivering in a tent. I walked Coco down the road a bit, as she liked a little privacy, being a girl and all. There was nothing out here, not as far as the eye could see. The Rockies of Glacier had melted into the western horizon. No town was in sight, no buildings, no other vehicles. Just Coco, Nick and me.
I looked back at my ex, and my heart softened unexpectedly. He’d given my sister a job when she needed one, stood beside his dubiously employed brother, probably supported Christopher’s efforts at inventing, made sure his neglectful father was near him. And here he was on his much-anticipated road trip, his irritating ex-wife, whom he loved and hated, as a passenger.
At the moment, he was leaning against the car, studying the map as the wind ruffled his hair. I’d always loved his hair. And his hands. Also, his neck. His neck was a thing of great beauty, and I loved it when we lay in bed, postnooky, cuddling, my face against that warm, sweet place—
Okay! Enough of that. I walked back to the car, Coco trotting briskly along beside me. “Where do you think we’ll stop for the night?” I asked. It was already midafternoon.
“I’m not sure,” Nick said. “I want to see the world’s largest penguin statue.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not kidding,” he said, grinning. “See? Right here.”
I leaned in closer. That was a mistake. There was his neck, smooth and tanned and practically edible. Feeling a bit like a vampire resisting the urge, I cleared my throat. “I love maps,” I said a bit too loudly.
“Me, too,” he said, glancing at me. “All those places you’ve never been.”
“All that mystery,” I said. “The GPS is great, but it’s not the same.”
“My thoughts exactly.” His mouth pulled up, my girl parts coiled. I looked away, adjusted the Yankees cap.
“Did you ever do this before?” Nick asked quietly. “Drive across country?”
“No,” I said.
“Ironic, don’t you think?” He looked up from the map, his eyes steady.
“Very.” My heart knocked against my ribs.
He stared back a minute longer, then folded the map. “Okay. Off we go. Penguin statue, here we come.”