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So, really, I posted that picture for me.
“Weeding? Did she say weeding?” Diana asks, I assume, Aaron. “Oh my God. It’s happened. My best friend has become countryfolk.”
“Shut up.” I chuckle. “I have to keep myself busy somehow. The days are long around here.” There’s an official sunrise and sunset but it never truly gets dark. Jonah is up and gone well before I’d ever consider crawling out of bed, stirring my sleep long enough to kiss me goodbye. I’ve fallen into a predictable routine—check emails over coffee and breakfast, decide what I need to buy for lunch and dinner, followed by a heavy dose of bug repellent to come out here. Sometimes Muriel pops by for a quick check-in on the garden—and on me, I sense. I find I don’t mind those visits at all anymore. I’ve begun to look forward to them, even when she offers her opinions, unwarranted and uninvited.
I passed my road test—with no moose incident—and have gained a degree of freedom I didn’t have before. I’ve joined the gym in Wasilla and now drive in to kill a few hours doing weights and cardio, followed by some shopping. I also visited the car dealership and test-drove a Jeep Wrangler. I’m waiting for a break in Jonah’s schedule so he can go in to help me navigate the conversation to buy what I want.
My afternoons are spent entertaining myself with various projects. Last week, I finished the guest bedroom that overlooks the back of the house, garnishing it with new bedding and lighting and chic artwork. As soon as the quilt and dresser I ordered for the other smaller bedroom arrives, I’ll be able to finish that, too.
I’ve booked a contractor to renovate our main floor bathroom and add a shower. He starts next month. I spent a day learning how to style a bookcase, and another two experimenting with surprisingly cute and rustic finds from the Trading Post—antique candle holders, pottery, vintage frames that I filled wit
h pictures from last summer.
I spent a full week organizing the kitchen properly. I’ve installed additional shelves—by myself, using Jonah’s drill. Everything has its own place now, whether it be on a hook or in a labeled jar.
With all this time on my hands, the house is beginning to feel like a home—a well-organized, clean home. I’ve also discovered that I enjoy trying out new recipes.
But the days are long, my meals are lonely, and I find myself counting down the hours until I hear the familiar hum of an approaching plane.
And counting the months until Jonah’s firefighting and his work with Jack Thomas are over, so I can have him to myself again.
“Is Jonah working a lot?” Diana asks.
“Yeah. There’s a fire south of here that’s been burning for a week.” A lightning strike started it, and thanks to the drier-than-normal season, the flames are gobbling up forest like it’s kindling doused in gasoline. The fact that it’s only mid-June is troublesome, according to the news.
“Oh my God, are you serious? He’s fighting fires now, too?” I can hear the thrill in Diana’s voice. “Do you know how rugged and sexy your boyfriend is, Calla?”
“I’m sitting right here!” Aaron hollers from somewhere in the background, making me smile.
I know how rugged and sexy Jonah is. I’m also learning how frustrating he can be to deal with when it has anything to do with flying his planes. But, I’m not about to get into that with Diana.
“So, how many years are you in law school for?” I ask, changing the subject.
She groans. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, Calla. I don’t even like lawyers! Tell me I’m crazy!”
“You’re crazy.” I smile. “But you’re gonna kick serious ass.” People often judge Diana as ditzy and shallow based on her flightiness and obsession with drawing the perfect eyebrow, but she’s one of the smartest people I know. Her LSAT scores got her into the top law school in Toronto. She’s the first paralegal that her boss, a.k.a. Beef Stick, has ever agreed to pay tuition and books for, which tells me how much potential he sees in her.
I’m so happy for her, and yet I’m also sad. It feels like she has found a new life—one that I don’t have a place in anymore, especially all the way over here.
“Have you decided if you’re going back to school yet? Or are you just going to flounder in your newfound wealth?” Diana mocks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve looked at the course options but there isn’t anything in Anchorage that interests me.” Plus, do I really want to commit to an on-campus program? What if we end up deciding to go elsewhere in a year or two? “I’ve been looking into some online courses. Graphic design, that sort of thing. Something I could maybe do freelance?” Something. I need … something.
“Well … you’ve got time to decide, right? It’s not like you guys are hurting for money.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Though Jonah insists on working like we are. “I’m going to a Winter Carnival planning committee tonight.” Toby relayed a message from Muriel to be ready for pickup at five forty-five p.m. sharp. I keep meaning to ask him if it drives him nuts that his mother, who has a phone capable of texting, uses him as her middleman.
“I guess that makes sense. You are a lady of leisure now, so charitable events and party planning need to become part of your daily schedule.”
I laugh as I haul myself to my feet and dump a handful of weeds over the fence for Zeke, who trots over to devour them. “Muriel volun-told me so I don’t have a choice.”
“What does one do at a winter carnival in Alaska?”
“Carnival-y things in the frigid cold. A parade and maybe a race.” With outhouses, apparently. I tried searching for information online, so I don’t appear completely clueless walking into tonight’s meeting, but the event’s website lacked for anything beyond sponsorship and vendor opportunities, and a few lackluster pictures from past events of people huddling on the frozen lake. “Maybe I can do some of the marketing?”
“Oh, hey, before I forget, your gift is on back order so it might not come until after your actual birthday.”
My birthday. Right. I’m turning twenty-seven in two weeks. I haven’t given it as much thought this time around. On the one hand, it’s my first one with Jonah, which is exciting. But it’ll also be the first one without Mom and Simon hovering over my bed with a slice of cake, singing happy birthday, and the first since I met Diana that we won’t be giggling late into the night. “You should fly here and bring it with you, then,” I tease, but I’m not really joking.
