Page 6 of Harper

“Oh, no?”

“Nah. I’d deal with it on my own if it was just me. It’s…McKenna. This whole situation has got her spooked. I’m doing it for her.” He stands up to leave. “Thanks again, Joe. See you around.”

“See you, Tanner.”

As I watch him go, I think about what he said. I’m doing it for her. That checks out with me. I get it. I’d do just about anything for the woman I love. The list is endless. Exhaustive.

But ultimately useless.

Because the woman I love doesn’t love me anymore.

***

That evening, I’m sitting on my deck with a cold beer, listening to the wail of a ship’s horn as it leaves the harbor. I live fourteen blocks from the center of town, but those horns reverberate off the mountains that surround Skagway and can be heard everywhere.

Since it’s a weeknight, things won’t get too crazy downtown, though the seasonal workers definitely like to party. I, myself, don’t mind a few drinks on a Friday or Saturday night when I’moff the clock, but I try to be careful about what I drink and how much.

A not-so-fun fact about Native Alaskans is that we abuse alcohol at a consistently higher rate than any other ethnic group in the United States. Almost fifteen percent of Native Alaskans’ deaths are alcohol-related, which is three times the national average. And unfortunately, it’s a long-standing problem, running through generations of my people.

My mother, who never touched a drop of liquor her whole life, was mowed down by a drunk driver here in Skagway almost ten years ago. And her twin brothers, my uncles, both died of complications from cirrhosis during the COVID-19 epidemic. My aunt Hannah, a schoolteacher here in Skagway, is the last living of the four siblings and doesn’t touch a drop. All of her brothers and sisters have been lost—one way or another—due to alcohol.

I hate it that my own family is a statistic.

Mulling over the tragic details of my family sours my mood, and I pour the rest of my beer over the deck railing and head back inside.

Aw, hell. If I’m honest, my mood was soured hours earlier, after seeing Tanner Stewart. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Harper since he walked out of my office.

It’s a brutal thing to love someone who doesn’t even acknowledge you.

It’s harder still when she lives in the same small town you do—the same town where you’ve both lived for most of your lives, where you both work, and where your respective families live. Her brother can walk into your place of work to lodge a legitimate complaint, and your whole mood is thrown into a tailspin. Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, there are bright memories of your best days with her, and grim reminders of everything you’ve lost. It sucks.

I pull the sliding glass door shut and step into the adjacent kitchen to find something for dinner. As I’m rummaging around in the freezer, my phone buzzes on the counter. When I pick it up, there’s a short message:

Avery

DTF?

I stare at those three letters and consider her question.

Hmm. Am I “down to fuck” Avery tonight?

I lean back against the counter and sigh.

Avery Wells is the Borough Clerk for Skagway. Ten years my senior and a childless divorcee, she came home with me after the town Christmas party two years ago, and we’ve been casually screwing ever since.

I stare at her message trying to decide what to do. On one hand, I’m deep in the throes of a Harper-reverie today, and I don’t really want to be with another woman; on the other, I’m still a man with needs. And frankly, I sure could use the distraction and potential relief.

Joe

Sure. Come over whenever you’re ready.

I don’t add hearts or smiley faces or any of that cutesy shit because that’s not what Avery and I are about. We’re fond of each other, but we have no commitment in place—we don’t go out on dates or sleep over at each other’s houses or share secrets. Our relationship is mostly transactional. I scratch her itch and she scratches mine; and when the deed is done, she heads back home until the next time one of us makes a booty call.

Avery

See you in 10.

With barely enough time to get cleaned up, I double-time it back to my room and jump in the shower, stepping into mybedroom wearing nothing but a towel. A second later, I hear my front door open and close.

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