Page 53 of Big & Lily

“We lost Figaro while Mimi was in treatment. It was a double whammy for her.”

“And you, I’m sure.”

“Yes, of course. But you won’t believe what just happened. This is why I wanted to sneak off with you for another coffee. You are the only person I can talk to about this.”

I lay my hand on my heart. Another gift from Alaska, this friendship. “Tell me,” I whisper.

“Well, she was holding the cat, and it was being incredibly patient—think about how many people try to manhandle that poor thing in a day—and she said, ‘Let’s adopt a kitten when we get home. I’m ready.’?”

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“She hasn’t said it outright yet, but you don’t bring a new little life into your home if you don’t think you’re going to be around to raise it.”

“She’s going to do the treatments!” I say a little too loudly.

“Shh, yes, well, most likely, we’ll see. It certainly feels promising, though, doesn’t it?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eating at the Talkeetna Cafe & Grill is like being invited to someone’s home for dinner. Long tables crowded by wooden chairs, framed photos of the adventures that await us all on the walls, shelves of old books, and a living room area with a cozy couch, a fireplace, and an upright piano. We are heading out soon to another campground, but knowing there are equally charming lodgings upstairs makes me want to negotiate with Brick that they rough it in the woods without me.

The place is packed, but Brick must know someone on the inside, because he and Jace are waiting for us at a table against a wood-paneled wall with a view of the fireplace, an elaborate cuckoo clock, and a dartboard.

“I’m starving,” I announce as I unload the shopping bags Lily and I collected throughout the afternoon and pick a spot on the wall side for better people watching. Lily tucks in next to me and asks Mimi to sit on her other side. She’s insulating herself from Dane, should the fact that we avoided him in this tiny town not give him the hint Lily was hoping it would.

Ian and Xavier come in, and the boy pulls off his wool beanie. Spikes of staticky hair stand at attention as his father ruffles his head. Zave ducks but laughs.

“How was the museum?” I ask.

“Cool.” Cool is high praise for a kid who acted like he was being dragged off to the gallows earlier.

“We also took a historic walking tour,” adds his father.

“And then we got moose-dropping cookies from this restaurant.” Xavier points to a bakery case across the room.

“Ah, then all that educational stuff was worth it.” Brick laughs.

As the seats around the table fill in and a waitress comes by for our drink orders, one chair remains empty. Dane hasn’t shown up yet. While we wait, we chat about our days, and Luna and Mimi share their mayoral cat sighting and their new kitten news (without revealing the significance of it), and still no Dane.

Our dinners come, and we dive in like people who have been in the wilderness for weeks and not a bunch of adventure tourists who spent the afternoon wandering an idyllic town with blossom petals floating from the trees like snow, and flowerpots of color, and charming local art hanging outside every ancient wood-hewn building. Dane’s chair remains empty.

“He’s probably met up with some locals,” Brick says after our dinner plates are taken away and our coffees are served. “There are some real characters about, and once you start them talking, you could be trapped for ages. Especially the ones who come into town to pick up supplies. To them Talkeetna is the big city with a constant flow of new audiences with whom they can share a life’s worth of stories. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hanging out in the green getting chapter and verse on Denali and how many have died trying to summit her. That’s a popular one. Let’s finish up, and we’ll take a stroll and meet up with him. Although, don’t forget, our ride leaves in an hour. Frank’s got a delivery after us.”

“We’ve walked the entire town. Couple of blocks each way,” offers Ian. “Won’t be much of a manhunt.”

It is quickly decided that we should split up. Lily offers to headdown a few blocks to the entrance to town, which begins with a large wooden sign that reads,welcome to beautiful downtown talkeetna. I’m sure the last thing Lily wants is to be the one to find him. Ian and Xavier go back to the museum. Brick takes a left out of the Cafe & Grill. Jace goes right. Mimi checks out the stores across the street. Luna heads to the gift shop where we said we’d meet him hours ago. If Dane is still waiting there for us, he’s got bigger problems than potentially missing the ride to our camp.

With most of the tiny town covered, I decide to go to the one place where no one would think to look, and I’m praying I won’t be successful. Like most of the buildings on this street, the bar is right out of an old Clint Eastwood movie, minus the swinging saloon doors. And, like most of the interiors, it’s warm, wood-paneled, and welcoming inside. The requisite bleached moose antlers hang over the door. Framed photos of skiers and mountaineers and mushers dot the walls like old family photos. The din of conversation bounces off every hard surface in the room as I quickly scan the tables and then the bar, convincing myself I’ll come up empty.

To my disappointment, I am wrong.

At the end of the bar, feet tucked into the stool rungs, shoulders slumped, elbows on the counter, is Dane. With a glass of brown liquid in front of him. I approach him slowly. He’s staring into his drink. I’m wondering which number this is—he’s been MIA for a while.

“Hey, Dane,” I say quietly, placing my hand on his back. “Everyone’s looking for you. You missed dinner.”

“Did I? I’m sorry.”

I sit down on the empty stool next to him. What the hell am I supposed to do here? I have zero experience with a person fresh out of rehab sitting in a bar with a glass of whiskey in front of them. My knowledge is limited to what I’ve seen on television.