Page 5 of Annika's Aurora

He’d lost his best friend. Then through his shame and cowardice, he’d lost his family. He’d lost Annika. She had been the last Northrup to break off contact with him. She’d tried for over three years; her parents had stopped after one. He still had her last email to him.

Surprisingly, after he’d left the SEALs and joined Nighthawk, he’d received another email. Johanna was reaching out again. She’d berated him for being such an idiot and ordered him to come back home to them.

Logan had bitten the bullet, swallowed as much of the guilt as he could stomach, and wrote back, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how.”

Six little words. It was only six words, but they had taken everything in him to write. It had been fifteen years, and all he could manage was six words to the woman who’d been like a mother to him. But she hadn’t given up. Those six words turned into eight more. And more still. They now emailed or texted each other a couple of times a month. They never talked about anyone else, only themselves. Logan didn’t know if the others knew about their contact. She’d never told him, and he’d never asked.

Remembering something she’d told him over fifteen years ago, he reached for his phone to shoot off a text.

Logan:Need to get away. Can I stay at the lake house?

The response was almost immediate.

Mama Jo:Absolutely. You remember where the key is hidden?

He did.

Mama Jo:Is everything ok?

Was everything okay? No, not really. But he couldn’t tell her that. Their relationship was still too fragile. They shared only surface things with each other, nothing too personal.

Logan:Got some time off work. Just looking for someplace to stay for a while.

Mama Jo:Ok. You let me know if you need anything.

Logan:Will do. Thanks.

Mama Jo:Anytime, Kiddo.

Logan smiled. Mama Jo always called him that. He was glad that she’d reached out to him after so long. And he was glad he’d pulled up his big boy pants and responded. It’d been easier than he thought. Even if they hadn’t yet talked about that night and the days that followed, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to talk about it with her.

Shaking off his reverie, he grabbed his duffle and started to pack, making sure to grab the picture of him with the twins that was always with him.

Chapter 3

Annikasatinhermother’sfamilyroom,tryinginvaintountangletheChristmaslights.Thecursedthingsweresofrickingfrustrating,herbrainimmediatelythoughtofaquoteabouthowfeedingthefrustration’swantswastheonlywaytofightitorsomethinglikethat.

“What are your wants?” she asked the strand of lights angrily. She shook a strand irritably, hoping to dislodge the tangle, but that sent a twinge of pain to her still healing shoulder and made the tangle worse. She winced.

Ever vigilant, Johanna heard. “You okay, Sweetie?”

“I’m good, Mom. Just a little cramp.” Johanna studied her for a moment then continued placing ornaments on the tree. Johanna loved Christmas time. Nothing gave her more joy than pulling out each ornament and remembering. She’d given her children their own ornament each year, hoping that by the time they had houses of their own, they’d take their ornaments with them and start their own traditions. Annika had once shared in her mother’s joy, reminiscing about the ornaments and what year they came from. But ever since losing Jamie, she struggled to find the joy. She still loved the holiday, but some years her enthusiasm was missing.

Not Johanna. She still felt the joy as she pulled out each one of Jamie’s ornaments.

“You know what, Sweetie?” Annika paused in her detangling to listen to her mother. “I think it might be a good idea for you to go stay at the lake house for a little while.”

Shocked, Annika said, “What? Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?” She didn’t think Johanna would ever want to let Annika out of her sight again.

“Of course not. I just think that after the last few months, you need to get away. You don’t need your old mom hovering over you every second of the day anymore. Go. Let the fresh lake air rejuvenate you.”

Annika thought about her mother’s words. It had been a long time since she’d been to the lake house. There were too many memories, and she didn’t know if she was ready to face them yet.

“I don’t know, Mom.”

“Do it for me. I think it would be good for you.”

Annika relented, “I’ll think about it.”

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