Page 15 of Reeve

“Of course you do!” she’d insisted. “Being the youngest can really suck. Tanner and Harper have great memories of it. You need yours, too!”

The new-mom, quasi-feral, bursting-with-maternal-love-for-any-living-thing look in her eyes told me she wasn’t going to let it go. Whether I liked it or not, the path of least resistance would be the smartest way forward.

“Sure, McKenna,” I said, plastering a weak smile on my face. “I’d love to go.”

So, bright and early on the first Saturday of December, I’m waiting for Tanner, McKenna, and Madden at the depot, holding our place in a very long line because while you need to buy tickets for the train ride, anyone can show up for pictures with Santa.

And it feels like the entire town has turned up—kids wearing reindeer antlers and parents in matching elf outfits, babies in red velvet jumpers with shiny black dress shoes, and teenagers in midriff-baring T-shirts reading, “Bah Humbug!” or “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

Everyone in Skagway is here…and guess who’s in charge of crowd control?

Yep. Deputy Adams.

Tall and fit, and crazy handsome in his police uniform, complete with a Western cowboy-style hat that he’s decorated with a sprig of holly, he looks like all of my Christmas morning wishes wrapped up in one mouth-watering package.

He catches my eye as he chats with some folks a lot closer to the front. When he winks at me, I give him a little wave.

To be clear, I haven’t spoken to Aaron since last Sunday, avoiding him twice at rehearsals last week, unable to even meethis eyes after his passionate and unexpected confession.You, Reeve. I want you.

I’ve been avoiding Aaron because I don’t know what to do.

Part of me wants to jump his bones and have a dreamy, three-week holiday fling.

But another, more prudent, part of me knows that it would be pretty stupid to get intimately involved with someone a few weeks before leaving for college.

Not that it’s impossible to date someone long-distance. Millions of people have done it. I’ll come back for the holidays and summer break, of course, and truth told, although it’s not a nice drive from Skagway to Anchorage, unlike a lot of other places in Alaska, it’s possible. It’s fifteen hours from the University of Alaska in Anchorage to downtown Skagway.

So, it’s not about it being impossible, it’s about what I want to get out of my four years in Anchorage. I don’t want to be missing Aaron when I should be fully engaged in my new life at college. I want to be available to meet people and make connections and yes, date someone special without my whole family watching.

The long and short is this—I’m attracted to Aaron, and we have history, and sure, if I wasn’t leaving for college in January, we might be hooking up already. But Iamleaving. Soon. The timing’s shit, just like it’s always been for us, and that’s a fact.

“Reeve! Hey!”

I look up to see my brother approaching with McKenna beside him. She’s pushing Madden in a stroller with a big, professional-looking camera around her neck. My four-month-old nephew, oblivious to everything going on around him, sits up straight, aided by shoulder straps. Snug as a bug, he’s bundled up in a bright red snowsuit and has a white pom-pom hat on his head and white mittens on his tiny hands. If there’s a cuter little boy in the entire universe, I’ve yet to see him.

“Hello, Madden!” I coo, squatting in front of him. “Who’s gonna see Santa? You are! You are, baby!” I stand up and grin at my sister-in-law. “He looks adorable.”

“I always wore fancy dresses and Mary Jane shoes for my Christmas picture,” she tells me, “but we’re starting a whole new tradition in Alaska.Ourkids will have their annual Santa pictures taken in snowsuits and parkas.”

Woe to the child of Tanner and McKenna who wants a black puffer coat in junior high school, because I’m pretty sure their kids have a childhood of red or green parkas ahead of them. But McKenna looks so pleased about everything, I nod and smile like it’s the best idea ever.

“It’s warmer too! Makes sense.” I look up at my older brother. “So you did this ride with Mom and Dad, huh?”

Tanner grins at me. “Yeah. I remember sitting next to Hunter on the train, facing Harper and Mom.”

Mom.I envy the way Tanner says her name so casually, referring to one of a thousand sweet memories that include her. I have very few real memories of my mother, who died after injuries sustained in an avalanche when I was two years and three months old. My father did a great job raising me, and I always had Gran, Harper, and Parker to help with “girl stuff,” but I’m not sure any child without a mother ever stops longing for her. I certainly didn’t. I still long for my mother every day.

“Where was Dad?” I ask.

“I don’t remember,” he says, scratching his beard. “Sitting nearby, I guess? Or chatting with someone on the other side of the train, maybe? You know Dad.”

“I know Dad.” Our dad can get caught up in a random conversation faster than anyone I ever met.

“Thank God you got here when you did!” says McKenna, pulling gloves from her pockets and putting them on. “This is quite a line. What time does the depot open?”

I check my phone. “Twenty minutes.”

“Oh, there’s Aaron!” says McKenna, waving him over. “Aaron! Hey!”

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