a huge call for bug doctors.” She punctuated her statement by pivoting around and chopping cleanly through a large round chunk.
“Plants,” he corrected her lightly. “I’m actually a botanist not an entomologist. I have an interest in entomology because of bees and other pollinators, but my doctorate is in botany.”
She shrugged. “Whatever—bugs, plants, if you can’t burn it or eat it, I’m not really all that interested.” She put one foot up on the massive circular piece of spruce she’d been using as a chopping block.
Aidan stared back at her for a long silent moment, his eyes drifting again to the ax in her hands. His expression looked almost wary—like he was afraid she might turn it on him next. What in the world was he thinking?
Why did she care what he thought? She didn’t...but something dawned on her as she followed his gaze.
She fought the grin tugging at her lips. “You don’t know how to chop wood, do you?”
“Uh, guilty,” he said with a shrug and a sheepish smile. “I can’t say I’ve ever had the occasion to, which seems strange somehow considering my profession.”
“Boy, all those degrees of yours are really going to come in handy up here, aren’t they?”
Aidan cocked his head, like he might finally be processing her contempt. “Yes, I believe they will,” he answered slowly. “For the work I’ve signed on for here in Alaska I’m confident that a doctorate is sufficient. I don’t have much experience with the flora of this geographical location or even this climate, it’s true, but I also don’t expect Alaskan plant life to be nearly as diverse and complex as it is in the tropics. I won’t go into the details because it’s very complicated, but I can tell you...”
Janie stared at him as he rambled on and wondered if he had any idea how condescending he sounded. She held up a hand, palm forward, to interrupt him. “That’s not necessary. I’m sure it would be excruciating for you.”
“What?” His face twisted with genuine confusion.
Yep, genius all right. Apparently, he’d already forgotten the word he’d used to describe his feelings about doing an interview with her.
She decided to remind him. “Look, Dr. Hollings—”
“Aidan,” he corrected her with an easy smile.
“Whatever. Listen—”
“Mo-o-om. Mom!” She heard shouts and turned to see Gareth and Reagan jogging in their direction, which was probably best, she thought, because her patience with Aidan Hollings was wearing thin. But this experience with him had been a good lesson, really...enlightening. Because aside from his attempt to put his best foot forward, she had a very good idea about who he really was and what he was all about. And one thing was for certain—even if he had agreed, there was no way in the world she would do that interview.
Yep, fate had done her a favor. It was about time, too. She felt like she deserved a favor...
Her boys politely introduced themselves, calling him Dr. Hollings and making her very proud. He asked the boys to call him Aidan, and Reagan immediately began firing off questions about a variety of sciencey topics. Reagan had been so excited to meet a real scientist and Janie had been looking forward to it on his behalf, had thought it would be good for Reagan to see what life could hold for him someday. Of course, that was before she’d actually met this man. Janie silently prayed that Aidan Hollings wouldn’t be unkind to her brilliant but quirky son. Reagan had been blessed with an aptitude for facts and learning, but somehow this seemed to have left him lacking in social skills.
Gareth was well mannered, but predictably standoffish. Her oldest was always slow to warm up to new people and she felt sure yesterday’s debacle wasn’t going to help any. He had to be feeling a combination of embarrassment and resentment. She did—and she was a grown-up.
Janie felt a sense of relief as she watched Aidan and Reagan chatting like they’d known each other for years. Reagan was like that—always more comfortable with adults than with kids his own age, especially smart adults.
She wondered what her oldest son was thinking. Gareth looked ready to bolt and Janie felt torn between taking him with her to the house and not wanting to leave Reagan on his own. Bering and Emily took the decision out of her hands as they came out the door and walked in their direction, Emily cradling Violet in her arms.
Aidan smiled and tried to pull Gareth into the conversation but he responded with a series of short, though civil, replies. Then he subtly blew him off by looking toward his Uncle Bering and striking up a conversation about wolves—one of Bering’s favorite topics.
* * *
GARETH WISHED HE was bigger. He watched the man who had ruined their dad’s birthday and thought that if he was as big as his dad or his Uncle Bering he could punch the guy out, or somehow keep him from hypnotizing his little brother.
Reagan seriously seemed hypnotized. He’d been so excited to meet Aunt Emily’s scientist brother—a “real” scientist. Gareth had to admit he’d been kind of excited, too—at first, before he’d actually met him. Before he’d ruined the Boston cream pie and Dad’s birthday had been totally trashed.
Now he was listening to Aidan tell Reagan something boring and stupid about arctic bumblebees. Gareth hated bees. He’d been stung twice in his life and had almost died the second time. He could still remember that terrifying feeling as his throat closed in, slowly choking off his air supply until he could no longer breathe... Then the world had gone black. Luckily his cousin Tag had been there at the picnic that day to cut a hole in his neck and save his life.
Or maybe not...
Because if Tag hadn’t been there Gareth might be with his dad in heaven right now. If there was a heaven—he wasn’t entirely convinced.
Reagan’s comment drew him back into the moment. “It seems like it would be too cold for a bee out on the tundra.”
“Well, one of the exceptional things about bumblebees is that they can regulate their internal body temperature—”
“Thermoregulation,” Reagan interrupted excitedly. “I’ve read about that.”
“That’s exactly right.” Aidan sounded impressed. “That fuzzy coat helps, too, and they also shiver their flight muscles.”
Gareth quit listening again. Aidan was clearly impressed with Reagan—everyone was impressed with Reagan...adults anyway. Not so much some of the kids at school. Even Gareth was impressed by his brother, though he didn’t understand him sometimes, and he drove him crazy a lot. But he did love his brother, despite the fact that the workings of Reagan’s brain were sometimes a complete mystery to Gareth.
He’d tried to explain to Reagan what had happened with Aidan and the cake but Reagan didn’t get it. Instead, he’d seemed to relate to Aidan’s reasoning, telling Gareth all about what important pollinators bumblebees are. Reagan was like literally a genius but he could also be completely clueless about certain things, which meant that the responsibility of taking care of the family fell entirely on him.
Gareth wished he could be better at it. He wished his dad was still alive to help him and tell him what to do. But that was dumb because if his dad was still alive he wouldn’t have to constantly try to figure out what to do...
* * *
JANIE TURNED TOWARD the house as she heard the sound of a car traveling up the long driveway.
Bering looked, too. “It’s Tag.”
A vehicle came into sight and she recognized her cousin Tag’s midnight blue one-ton pickup. He parked and hopped out, holding a basketball in his hands.
Tag smiled and tossed the ball into the air. “Hey, who wants to shoot some hoops?”
Janie grinned. That was a no-brainer where her boys were concerned, especially Gareth.
They