To Vicki and Rhonda, anthology buds extraordinaire. Happy Holidays!
1
JARED MARTIN loosened his tie and collar and ordered a bourbon and ginger ale from the flight attendant, more than ready to trade Manhattan’s hustle and bustle for some Alaskan wilderness for a few days. Next to him, Nick Hudson ordered a drink as well.
A light snow fell outside the jet’s windows on the first leg of their transcontinental flight from New York’s LaGuardia to Good Riddance, Alaska. They’d finish the trip via bush plane from Anchorage to the little town.
“Thanks for traveling across the country during the holidays to be in my wedding,” Nick said.
“Anytime.” Jared grinned. “Not that I’d recommend you make getting married a reoccurring event.” Jared was looking forward to it—the trip, that was. He wasn’t big on weddings, especially these days, but he and Nick had been tight since middle school. So when Nick invited Jared to be one of his groomsmen, he’d said yes without hesitation.
“I hear you. I plan to make this a once-in-a-life-time event, because Gus is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman. Damn, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“That’s for sure. What she sees in you… Some guys get all the breaks.”
Jared had initially thought Nick had lost his mind when he’d turned up for a Saturday afternoon game of hoops eleven months ago and mentioned he was marrying a woman, Augustina “Gus” Tippens, he’d only just met while traveling. That was nuts in Jared’s book. And then he’d really thought it was crazy when Gus, a chef, had given up her restaurant in Alaska to move back to New York to work.
However, after actually seeing Gus and Nick together, Jared got it. He was a guy and admittedly not the most “tuned in” or romantic male out there, but even he saw how right and close Gus and Nick were together. They seemed to have a connection Jared and his ex-wife had never had. Jared wondered if he’d ever have something like that.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t think before I said that…you know, what with…damn, I’m just stepping in deeper and deeper.”
Jared cracked up. Nick didn’t fumble often but when he did… “Keep wading, buddy. It’s okay. I got a divorce. No biggie.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean—”
“Nick, it’s cool.”
The flight attendant dropped off their drinks, one of the benefits of flying first class—first on, first off, and first served.
Nick shook his head. “Trish lost her mind.”
Trish. Jared’s ex-wife. Funny how quickly he’d learned to think of her that way when for three years he’d thought of her as his wife. Had it really only been nine months ago that she’d announced she was leaving him for her hairdresser? WTF? Who got left for a guy who did hair? Apparently Jared did.
Yep, she’d waltzed in and announced all he ever wanted to do was make money, packed her shit and left. Funny, but Trish had always been more than willing to spend the money he made. He had not, however, bothered to point that out.
True enough he put in a lot of hours, but as a Wall Street trader, staying on top of the game meant staying one step ahead. Trish’s leaving had just given him more time to work harder.
He shrugged. “Trish did what she had to do.” He’d been surprised at first but then he’d realized the signs had been there—he’d just been too busy to see them. And he’d be damned if he’d ever tell her, but the truth of the matter was he hadn’t put much effort—okay, really none—into making their marriage work. He’d taken Trish and their relationship for granted. Now that some time had passed, he could see that.
“Gus has been worried about you.”
He and Trish had gone to dinner with Gus and Nick a couple of times. After Trish had bailed…well, Jared had done the only thing he knew, which was immerse himself in work. Gus and Nick had invited him out numerous times after the split but work had just been easier.
“Gus is a sweetheart, but she doesn’t need to worry about me,” Jared said. He rubbed his hand over his head and tossed out something he’d been considering for a couple of weeks now. “I’ve been thinking about leaving the city anyway.”
“What the hell?” Nick looked genuinely surprised. “You’ve been thinking about leaving? To go where and do what? You’re as New York as they come.”
There was a restlessness, a discontent that had been eating at him, that he couldn’t seem to shake. “I’m burned out.” He’d thought it but it was the first time he’d actually spoken the words aloud to anyone.
“You’re serious? Where would you go? What would you do?”
Jared didn’t have a clue as to an alternate career and location, he just knew something was missing from his life…and it wasn’t his ex-wife. “I don’t know yet, I just know I’m ready for a change.”
Nick sent him a searching glance, wearing his journalist-on-a-story face. “Are you having a midlife crisis at thirty-one?”
Jared took a healthy swallow of his bourbon and ginger ale. “Possibly.” He’d been fast-tracking ever since graduating from Wharton with an MBA and signing on with a prestigious Wall Street firm. He’d met Trish in a martini bar one evening when he was hanging out with some guys from the office after work. A year and a half later, they were tying the knot with a wedding extravaganza followed by a honeymoon in the Seychelles. And the bitch of it was she might say he worked too much, but she wouldn’t have given him the time of day if he hadn’t been a hotshot Wall Streeter.
And now he was just sick of the whole damned thing. He’d never anticipated being at this place where he was tired of the game. For the first time in his life he no longer knew what he wanted—he simply knew something was missing. “A new career and a new start somewhere sounds better and better. I’d be more than happy to toss in the towel on the condo and the job and try a little dose of being commitment free.”
Nick followed another searching gaze with a shrug. “Then you’re heading to the right place. Good Riddance is where you get to leave behind what ails you.”
Jared had heard all about Good Riddance from both Gus and Nick. Gus’s mother’s best friend, Merrilee Danville Weatherspoon, had founded the town twenty-something years ago, when she’d loaded up her RV, left her husband behind in Georgia and drove until she turned up in the spot that felt right. She’d called it Good Riddance. To Jared it sounded as unique and unorthodox, in its own way, as parts of New York.
Jared had read Nick’s travel blog with great interest last December, when he’d covered the little Alaskan town’s Chrismoose celebration—a week-long holiday festival of arts and crafts, sporting competitions, a Ms. Chrismoose pageant, and a parade. The event was based on a hermit who lived in the wilderness and would ride his pet moose into Good Riddance two days before Christmas.
Jared and Nick were arriving at the tail end of Chrismoose. Traveling any closer to Christmas Eve was too crazy and uncertain, especially when they needed to get to Good Riddance for Nick’s wedding.
“It sounds like just where I want to be.”
“Well, if you want something different, you damn sure aren’t going to be in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
It sounded good to him. No New York and no commitments—that just what he wanted in his foreseeable future.
THEODORA “TEDDY” MONROE stood as still as possible while Ellie Lightfoot pinned the bridesmaid dress into place, the fabric a sensual slide against Teddy’s skin. Standing still was an unnatural state of being for her. That is, unless she was playing a role which required her to be dead or sedentary.
Not that those roles came her way very often, which was a direct reflection of living in Good Riddance, Alaska, the middle of nowhere in a state that was about as far as possible from where she longed to be—New York, the place where roles abounded.
One more month and she’d be moving to the Big Apple. Just the thought made it even harder to stand still—she wanted to dance with sheer excitement. She felt as if her whole life was on the verge of blooming wide open—like a caterpillar transformed from the chrysalis stage into a butterfly. This was what she’d wanted for as long as she could remember—to study acting and pursue a career onstage.
Gus and Nick had found Teddy a waitressing gig and a studio apartment in Brooklyn—Manhattan was far too pricey for her budget—right around the corner from Nick’s cousin Angela. Gus had sent pictures, warning her the apartment was small. It simply looked marvelous to Teddy, but then again she’d willingly live in a closet as long as that closet was part of the bustle and opportunity of New York.
“Okay, turn around slowly,” Ellie said, her dark eyes scanning the fit of the dress. Ellie’s glossy black braid, which bespoke her Native heritage, hung over one shoulder. Teddy’s dress had been made in New York but shipped to Good Riddance for the final fitting. Ellie was a genius with a needle and thread.
“Don’t you just love weddings?” Merrilee said, clapping her hands together. She and Gus sat on the bed. Eartha Kitt’s rendition of “Santa Baby,” one of Teddy’s all-time faves, drifted in through the open bedroom door from the CD player in the next room, adding to the fun atmosphere. Gus had whipped up a gingerbread cake and popped it in the oven. The aroma, maddeningly mouthwatering, permeated the air.