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She made it easy for that topic to simply drop by pulling out a paper plate and handing it to me. “I’d get it all ready for you, but I don’t know what you like.”
She lifted another plate from the small stack.
“I’m pretty easy when it comes to food.”
I waited for her to start serving herself, but she looked over and gestured. “You first.”
A few minutes later, I looked out over the lake. With it being autumn, the air was crisp with a bite to it. The sun was setting as the stars became visible in the twilight sky.
Glancing at Alice, I said, “This is an amazing place to grow up.”
She finished chewing a piece of cheese and nodded. “Absolutely. It’s a bounty of beauty. When I tell people about it who aren’t from here, sometimes I think they think I’m exaggerating.”
I finished off a slice of bread. We fell into another comfortable silence, and I discovered yet one more detail about Alice. She was easy to be with, and silence didn’t feel pressured with her. That was another sharp edge for me. I wasn’t accustomed to feeling at ease. I hadn’t since the shooting.
I was too bitter, too cynical, and way too realistic about what the world had to offer to let myself allow anyone to matter too much.
Aren’t you cocky?my mind taunted me. I volleyed back with a silent, dry chuckle.
I didn’t know what this thing with Alice was, but I knew if it went anywhere, I couldn’t keep it superficial. I didn’t know how I knew that when I barely knew her, not really, but I did. I knew on a visceral level, on a heart level.
“Do you need more wine?” Alice’s voice was throaty and melodic.
Even that sent a sizzle through my system. Hell, every detail about Alice affected me.
I glanced down at my almost empty cup of wine and shook my head when I met her gaze again. My eyes landed on the picnic basket. “That’s a well-stocked picnic basket, by the way.”
She smiled, a wistful look entering her gaze. “Like I said, it was my parents’ basket. I guess it’s mine now. They used to hike a lot, and we came down here for evening picnics often when the weather was nice enough.” Her eyes shifted out toward the lake.
“It’s a beautiful place for a picnic.”
When her silvery-gray gaze met mine again, my entire system felt jolted, as if lightning sizzled through the air between us.
“It is.” She cocked her head to the side, studying me quietly. “Your grandmother lives here, but you didn’t grow up here,” she pointed out.
“Are you sure about that?” I countered.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I’m sure about it. I won’t pretend I know everyone in town, but if you grew up here, I would know it. Your grandmother lives next door.” She gestured in the direction of my grandmother’s house.
“Fair enough,” I replied with a chuckle. “My father was born here, but he went away for college. My mother is from British Columbia. I think of the Pacific Northwest in general as kind of a suburb of Alaska.”
Alice had just taken the last swallow of her wine and sputtered on it, reaching for a napkin. After she dabbed at her mouth, she shook her head slowly. “You’re kind of right. Geographically speaking, most people would think that was crazy. But if you live in Alaska, you know you can’t really fly here, at least not in the US, without going through Portland or Seattle.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My father’s a marine biologist, still is. He took a job at a university in Seattle. My mother was a teacher and was teaching until just a few years ago.”
“Seattle is in a pretty area. Where were you in the city?”
“We lived in a small town on the outskirts. We came up to Alaska in the summers.”
She looked thoughtful, offering, “I think I remember you coming up. How old are you?”
“Thirty-four. You?”
“Thirty. Back then, four years felt like forever.”
“It is like forever,” I agreed.
