Baby For The Mountain Man

“Don’t kill Dad. We need him,” I said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s just fine.”

“I can still hear your grin.”

“If you keep questioning me then I’m going to start prodding you on why your voice sounds so chipper.”

“I’m not chipper,” I said.

“Even with the stress you’re shouldering with this letter, you sound much better than you did the last time I talked with you. You don’t want me asking question, then stop teasing me about what your father and I do on vacation,” she said.

“I’m not teasing. The two of you are celibate saints,” I said.

“Uh huh. Keep your head up. And if we need to come back early, we will. Okay?”

“No need. I’ll call you guys after lunch on Saturday,” I said.

I hung up the phone and shook my head. In retrospect, I was lucky to have been raised in the family I had been. My mother and father had no issues with showing affection towards one another while they were around us. They hugged and kissed. My brothers, Jasper and Leo, had the stereotypical ‘walking in on their parents’ moments when they were younger. I had enough sense not to bother them when they were both behind closed doors, but my twin brothers were idiots growing up.

Thank fuck they turned out to be decent human beings as they got older.

I knew I needed to call them with this, but I held off on it. I sat on the couch and closed my eyes, my mind racing back to Ava. I wish I had gotten her number before she left. So I could check in on her and make sure she was doing okay. I had no idea why I was so worried about her, but I was. I didn’t know why I couldn’t get her off my mind, but I couldn’t.

I reached out for the empty space on the couch, imagining her there. How she looked lounging around in my shirt with her supple legs draped over the couch cushions. I opened my eyes and looked over, watching as her form faded away into nothing.

I wasn’t aware of how lonely I had been until she had crashed landed into my life. But now, I was painfully aware of how alone I was.

And I didn’t like it one bit.

Fifteen

Ava

I made my way to the library that morning to check out some new books. Today was the first day I was going to show my father I meant business. Ever since our very heated discussion where I figured out my brothers were just as miserable as I had become, I was determined to stand my ground. My brothers were looking up to me just like I was looking up to them, and I figured starting with something small would make a good case. My father always checked the books I brought home from the library, but this time he would find a sack of books he didn’t approve of. Books on business and investments. Books on energy and gasoline. Books to educate me on the family business and books on sustainable energy.

I was determined to show my father that I could make a real splash in his world, whether he approved or not.

I spent the entire morning browsing the library. I was walking around in sections I hadn’t visited yet and was excited at the material I was pulling off the shelves. Educational material used in colleges around the nation and workbooks I could check out with case studies I could read. I found more books on human interaction and sociology books that gave in-depths looks into how people acted the way they did. I figured it could help me to understand my father more. To help give context into why he was the way he was.

I pulled it all from the shelves and filled my bag before I made my way to check them out.

I walked down the sidewalk, taking in the small ships near Kettle’s little publ

ic library. I loved spending my summers here. I loved walking these sidewalks. I could remember darting into all these shops with my mother as a child. Marveling at all the trinkets and wondering what sorts of crafts I could get my hands on. Felts and markers and glitter and glue. Things to make messes my father would get angry over. They were wonderful memories I had of my mother until I grew up in the world she lived in.

Those memories were all I had of the perfect world I thought I inhabited.

I walked by the coffee shop and decided to grab some. Walking in with a cup of coffee in my hand would surely send my father through the roof. Only adults drank coffee, he would say. Then he would point out that my mother’s beautiful complexion was because she didn’t take in any source of caffeine. She stuck to infused water and freshly-squeezed juices.

Yep. I was driving home with a cup of coffee as well.

I walked into the coffeehouse and was flooded with memories. This was where I had gotten coffee with Travis that day. It was the day I had learned so much about him and his life. His family and how he was raised. Why he was the way he was and how his smile lit up his amber eyes. I smiled as I stood in line, ready to place my order. But a familiar voice wafted from the corner and it caused me to turn my head.

I smiled as Travis came into view, but he didn’t look happy at all.

I studied his interaction with the man he was sitting with. The stranger was in a suit and had a folder in his hand. The two of them seemed deep in conversation, and the more they talked the more Travis’ brow furrowed. Whatever the conversation was, it wasn’t going well. But I was excited to see him again.

Even if it was from far away.