Page 5 of Into the Mountains
Something I desperately wish I could do.
Once we get to the vet clinic, Ethan unbuckles his seatbelt and practically tries to launch himself out of the car door, but is blessedly stopped by child locks. Whoever invented those babies, I really hope their whole generational line is having the best day today.
“You could actually wait until the car comes to a complete stop, kid.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, his voice drawn out in playful annoyance.
Our car is joined by two others, and I recognize one of them. The red truck that has pretty much lived here since Sky and Jacob got together last year. The second one a few spots down, however, I don’t know who it belongs to, but there’s a familiar tug in my gut. The kind that usually tells me when I should turn and run the other way. Danger is coming.
I shove it down and make an attempt to look as if I am the picture of the single dad who has it all together. A well-rounded relationship with his son, who never realizes how disconnected we actually are. A usual career-minded man who can keep up with every single piece of housework no matter what it is. The hamper is never overflowing. The sink is never stacked with the cupboards completely empty. And this is all not just a huge, phony facade.
Before I can sink any deeper into my self-doubt, Ethan pops his head out of the open window facing the parking lot with a small black kitten already snuggled in his arms. “Dad, guess who’s here!”
I don’t think I even need to guess. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I click the lock button on my keys until I hear the honk to confirm my car is secure. I know I don’t need to lock it in this town, but it was a completely different story when we lived in Seattle and whenever I travel for work. The need to make sure the car is locked is something I can’t seem to let go of.
“I’ll see for myself in a few seconds, bud.” I give him a genuine smile before he ducks his head back into the window. My gut tells me I’m more than likely leaving with the kitten he was holding in his arms. He’s been asking for a kitten for a while—more like begging for one—and I’ve been on the fence about it mostly because I can’t dedicate the time to taking care of it. At least, I don’t think I can. I’ve never been a cat person either. I’m not allergic, but my parents despised cats and I think hearing them hate on the strays that so often strolled up to our porch eventually took a toll on my psyche.
Chatter comes from the lobby as I open the door and the fall breeze follows me inside. Sky and Ethan are sitting in the outdated waiting room to the right, heads together, probably scheming on the best way to convince me to let him take the black kitten home with us.
At the front desk, laden with stacks of paper, a color-coded binder and a pile of matching pens, are two figures leaning in towards each other and staring at blueprints.
“Well, I don’t think this would work here if you want the type of furniture we discussed.”
Jacob cocks his head slightly and looks at the spot Charlotte’s light pink manicured nail is pointing to. “Yeah, you might be right. Luckily, I have the architect right behind you to figure out some changes.”
Charlotte straightens, suddenly aware of my presence. Neither of us planned on being two feet away from each other so soon after our agreement to do the exact opposite. Even in a town as small as this, I figured we were both stubborn enough to be successful in avoiding each other. I just forgot one tiny detail.
She’s working on the same project I am. Well, technically.
Jacob asked her to be the interior designer for the clinic expansion he raised money for during last year’s Winter Festival with an auction he and Sky worked on together. She paintedportraits of the animals he had available for adoption and they ended up auctioning off every single one.
He asked me to be the architect for the expansion, so realistically, there’s not much interaction between mine and Charlotte’s jobs. But the sly smile and the darting eyes between him and Sky tell a different story. It tells me she’s hatching something other than the operation “get Elias to adopt a kitten.”
As if she read my thoughts, Sky gets up from her spot on the couch, leaving Ethan and the black kitten to play by themselves as she makes her way to me. “It’s about time you got here.”
“I’m basically on time.”
“Basically is still late,” she snips with her usual sarcasm. Sky may have changed a lot when she and Jacob fell in love, but one thing that has never changed and I don’t think will ever change is her sarcastic flair. I remember the first time I met her when I came home with Sarah one summer between college years.
She wanted me to meet the family she talked about nonstop and the sister she insisted was the best person to ever exist, even when she was a sarcastic asshole one hundred percent of the time. Sarah talked about her the most. She loved her parents dearly and absolutely adored Hudson, but Skylar was the one she was attached to. Her only sister and sometimes, she admitted, her only friend it felt like.
Sarah was nervous for me to meet Sky. More so because she was afraid of what her sister would think of me instead of what I would think of her. She knew my background at that point and she was aware that I had dealt with things much worse than sarcastic family members. But Sky could judge a person depending on her mood sometimes, or at least that’s the facade she likes to present to the world. I’m pretty sure the first words she said to me were “Pretty boy.” And she didn’t mean it as a compliment. Right after, she pulled Sarah inside and left me out on their porch, the door closing in my face.
Eventually I got on her good side. But sometimes, I don’t think that’s a side that you get to remain on permanently. With Sky, it’s forever changing depending on your actions or how she might feel about you on any given day. But really when it comes down to it, she’d do anything for you, no matter which side you’re on that day.
And today, I don’t think it’s a good side day.
“What areyou doing here?” Charlotte gives me a look that could rival my kid’s when he looked at the broccoli I tried to serve him the other night with his dinner.
“Really? After I was so helpful to you the other night?” Both Sky and Jacob snap their heads toward us.
“The other night?” Sky questions loudly, but then side glances toward Ethan who is oblivious to anyone else other than the kitten in front of him. He acquired a toy with a feather at the end of a string and is currently leading the cat on until she pounces on it, his giggles coming out in small bursts. The cat lands on his bare leg, no doubt digging her sharp claws into him, but he doesn’t complain, he just pets her before gently placing her back on the couch. I can feel my heart begin to soften just a little bit toward the little creature.
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “It was nothing.” She doesn’t offer any other explanation, which is far worse than actually explaining what happened. It’s always worse to let people fill in the blanks with their imagination.
“It really was nothing,” I agree. “I went to her apartment to help her with a bird that had gotten in through her window. She couldn’t get it to leave and no one else was answering so I went over to help.”
“Uh-huh,” Sky says, drawing out the words like she doesn’t really believe what I’m saying.
