Janie didn’t know how she’d survive without her mother—how any of them would survive. Grandma Claire had watched the younger boys while she and Gareth went to town to run a few errands, which included picking up the now-trashed dessert for the birthday celebration her oldest son insisted they have for his deceased father.
Janie wanted to cry.
“Hey,” Claire said. “Where’s the birthday cake?”
“It’s ruined,” Gareth said. “I ruined it. I dropped it, Grandma.”
“Gareth, you didn’t ruin it.” No, the bee patrol ruined it, she wanted to say, as she allowed her anger over the incident to overrule the despair. “It was an accident.” She looked at her mom. “There was a bee—”
Claire’s face turned white as her eyes darted from Janie to her grandson. “You didn’t get stung, did you?” She smiled—or tried to. “Of course you didn’t—you wouldn’t be here if you’d been stung. You’d be at the hospital.”
Reagan walked into the kitchen, where they were now gathered. “Hey, where’s the cake?” he asked.
“We didn’t get it,” Gareth said.
“What? Why?”
Janie answered, “There was an accident.”
“What kind of accident? A car accident? Are you guys okay?”
“No, Reagan, honey—an accident where the cake got ruined.”
“Oh.” His face fell, displaying his disappointment. “How are we going to celebrate now?”
“I think under the circumstances your dad would understand. We picked up some cupcakes. We’ll use those. Come on—let’s go sit at the table.”
Claire offered, “I’ll bring in the cupcakes if you want to round up the little guys.”
Finn toddled into the kitchen and let out a happy squeal at the sight of his mother. Janie scooped him up and kissed his velvety soft cheek. The thought flitted through her brain that at least the twins had been spared having to grieve for their father. They’d never known him. She immediately felt guilty—her signature emotion these days, it seemed. Of course it was better that Gareth and Reagan had known Cal for at least those precious early years. He’d been an excellent father, but it had just been so incredibly difficult to watch them suffer after his death—to watch them suffer still.
She secured the twins in their high chairs and took a seat. Claire walked into the room with the cupcakes neatly arranged on a platter. Brightly colored candles poked out of the frosting-covered peak of each cupcake. At least they looked pretty, which was something because Janie was certain the prepackaged, dairy-free treats would taste like cardboard slathered with sugar-infused shortening.
Claire handed Gareth some matches. He began lighting the candles.
Gabe pointed and chirped, “Cup-cup.”
Finn slapped his high-chair tray and laughed with delight as if his brother had told a hilarious joke. At two years of age, they already shared some kind of secret twin language.
“Mom, how many birthdays did you and Dad celebrate with Boston cream pie?” Reagan asked.
“Twelve,” Janie said and heard her voice crack. She tried to cover the sound with a cough. “I made your dad his first one while we were still in high school.”
Gareth turned his head and glanced out the window.
Her mom began singing the birthday song and she, Gareth and Reagan joined in. The twins shouted out their own joyous version of gibberish.
Reagan and Gareth blew out the candles as the twins blew raspberries and clapped with happy, reckless abandon. Gareth placed the cupcakes on small dessert plates and Claire added a generous dollop of “rice cream” next to Reagan’s and then dished up ice cream for the rest of them. Janie set a plate before each of the twins.
Janie and Gareth shared a smile as Finn immediately picked off a single sprinkle and examined it before delicately placing the candy bit on his tongue.
Janie swallowed her tears. She needed to be strong—she had to be strong for the boys. Three years had passed since Cal had been killed and she felt like she’d recovered as much as she possibly could, but the boys...
At times she thought they were doing well, for the most part—except maybe Gareth. He had these rituals—this birthday party for his father being one. He’d devised a ritual of some sort for virtually every holiday. The counselor had told her repeatedly that sometimes the grieving process could take a while. “You can’t rush it,” she said. “Don’t try too hard,” she advised. Gareth needed to somehow reach that elusive step of acceptance on his own. Janie wished there was some way of gauging how close he was because sometimes she had the feeling he might be sliding backward...
* * *
AFTER THE BAKERY FIASCO, Aidan strolled down the street trying to get a feel for the town that, as of today, he would be calling his home base for a while. His baggage had been left in Anchorage, but was supposed to be arriving on a small charter flight in a of couple hours and he didn’t see the sense in calling his sister, Emily, to pick him up until the luggage arrived.
Aidan’s purpose in accepting this position as head of the state of Alaska’s native-bee-population study was multifaceted. He’d earned his doctorate in botany and had spent the bulk of his career traveling the world studying endangered plant species. As such, he had a particular interest in bees and other pollinators.
He’d spent most of his adult life living in tropical locations and enjoyed the adventures, but lately he’d begun to crave a break from the heat. So when the opportunity to spend the spring and summer in Alaska arose, the change of climate had been enticing.
Aidan worked for various environmental foundations, nature preservation organizations and sometimes corporations or even governments of foreign nations. And for the last several years he and his colleague Blake Tryce had spent every spare moment on a film project highlighting the plight of endangered plant species. After attempting and failing to secure funding, he and Blake had financed the project and persevered. Seeds was finally finished. And while their goal in making the film was to inform and educate, Seeds had recently become the talk of the scientific community—and beyond.
Blake was ecstatic, Aidan not so much. He was grateful, on one hand, to be successful in spreading their message, but he’d never been thrilled with what came along with his pseudo fame. As a successful, renowned scientist he was continually turning down event invitations, public-speaking engagements and interviews as it was. The few he accepted, he chose very carefully. The added interest from Seeds had increased this kind of attention exponentially.
One particularly bad experience a couple years ago had left him especially wary and...beleaguered. He was in no hurry to make the same mistake twice. He needed a break and Alaska felt like the place to take it.
Not only did Emily now call Rankins home, but three months ago she and her husband, Bering, had also welcomed the first addition to their family—a baby girl they’d named Violet. Aidan couldn’t wait to meet his new niece.
Hmm, he thought, he and Janie shared a niece. This family connection could conceivably be
