Lauren left the library the following afternoon having learned many things. She’d learned that Iditarod was named for the Ingalik word Halditarod, which meant “distant place,” and that the most winningest musher of all time was Rick Swenson, whose fifth and final victory had taken place in 1991—meaning, Lauren supposed, that her father had raced against him at one time. She knew that in the early 90’s, people were proud of their mullets and high tops.
But what she hadn’t learned was anything new about her father.
Scarlett invited her back for the following day, but the more Lauren researched without uncovering any additional clues, the more it felt like she would never know the man her father had been—not during his racing years, and not in the years since.
The betrayal stung anew. She’d confided her first crush in him, told him schoolyard secrets she otherwise only entrusted to her Lisa Frank diary, even confessed when she’d stolen the fancy feather pen from Heather McEntyre’s desk. But he’d kept years of his life from her.
Years!
Did the secret-keeping stop when he’d left the sport, or had he hidden other things as well? Her father could have been living a dual life for all she knew, and here he’d been her entire life and world.
“Chin up,” Scarlett said as she pulled into the carport. “We’ll figure out what happened. I promise.”
“We?” Lauren asked with a sniff.
“Of course, we. You think I would leave you alone in this? No way. Let me use my librarian super powers to help you find the truth. I can get you more books, more primary sources, even normally off-limit stuff.” Her friend squealed as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. “Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!”
Lauren felt her tears turn to laughter as she followed Scarlett back into the apartment building.
“Books, and databases, and microfiche, oh my!” Scarlett sang as she linked her arm in Lauren’s. “We’re off to discover the secrets, the surprising secrets of… Lauren’s dad.”
More laughter rang out as the two women skipped up the stairs, still arm and arm, and Scarlett continued her Wizard of Oz parody. “We hear he was a—Oh, hello!”
Being taller than Lauren, Scarlett spotted the figure sitting on the floor outside their door a second before her friend as the two climbed the stairs. There, pushed back against the wall with his crutches propped neatly beside him, sat her former employer, Shane Ramsey. He lifted his chin and widened his eyes as the women approached, but neither smiled nor frowned, hiding his true feelings just as well as ever.
“I’ll just go get started on dinner,” Scarlett said, letting herself into the apartment and gently shutting the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” Lauren remained standing because it felt like it gave her more control of the situation, that at any moment she could make a run for it if she needed.
“Come home, Lauren,” he said. “I made a mistake. I need you.”
She wasn’t sure which part was nicer to hear—or which made her angrier.
“We can’t keep doing this,” she said, crossing her arms and staring down at him with the coldest expression she could muster. “You’re yanking me around like I’m some kind of toy. It’s not right.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. You deserve better than that.”
She took a deep breath and tried to relax her posture. Did he really mean those words? Would things be different from here on out? “You’re right. I do.”
“And I’m going to do better, I promise. Only, please come home, Lauren. Please.”
“How can I trust you when you don’t trust me? You go to these ridiculous lengths to protect your secret past, and then you accuse me of burning down your shed. Intentionally, no less.”
“I know, I know.” His voice cracked, and he hung his head.
Lauren thought she may have spied the beginnings of tears, but Shane quickly hid his face in his hands and rubbed them away.
“I’m not used to it. That’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth, the first of many I came to tell you if you’re willing to hear them.”
She didn’t know which question to start with. Not used to what? What other truths did you come to say? Does this mean you do care about me after all? She sunk to the floor beside him, deciding to let him start wherever he needed to. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
His hand twitched toward hers, but then he pulled it away and set it on his injured knee. He looked straight ahead at the stairwell as he spoke. “People don’t like me, and they haven’t for a long time. I don’t know why you’re different, but for whatever reason, you put up with my temper. You help make me feel happy, and not just because you’re great with the dogs. You stand up to me. You challenge me. You make me laugh, and you make me the best dinners I’ve had in ages. Which I also miss, by the way.”
He laughed softly, but it got stuck in his throat on the way out. He looked to her as if he wanted her to say something more, but she needed to hear more if she were really, truly going to forgive him for everything that happened two nights before, everything that had happened since they first met that January day outside his kennels.
“I…” He started again but faltered, swallowing back an apparent lump in his throat. “I want to be honest with you, because you’re right. We are friends, and I do care about you. I didn’t want to, but it’s too late to change that now.”
“Go on,” Lauren urged in a whisper.
“I hid my past from myself, too, Lauren. Yes, I have—had—the shed filled with her things, but I almost never go out there. That night, after the tavern with my old buddies, I was missing her so much, so I did. I had to see the shed to feel better. They asked me questions, talked about what had happened, because they all knew. The mushing community isn’t as big as you might think. Everyone knows everything about everybody. I think that’s part of why I began enjoying having you around so much. It was like a fresh start. You didn’t know, and I felt like if you found out, you’d hate me just as much as I hate myself.”
He stopped again, cleared his throat, looked to her as if begging to not have to say more. But she needed to hear this, and she could tell he needed to say it, too.
Lauren placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping it would give him the courage he needed to go forward.
Another deep breath. “Three years ago, I had a wife and a daughter, but I never made them a priority and I didn’t deserve them. I was always thinking about the dogs, working them, running any race that would take me. I was one of the best, but I had to be the best. And that takes a huge time commitment. I gave the sport my everything, which meant there was nothing left for my family.”
He choked on a sob again, but this time, he let the tears cascade down his cheeks. “I wasn’t surprised when my wife left me, but I hadn’t expected for her to be so angry, to seek revenge like she did.”
Shane turned to look at her. His normally stormy eyes shone clear and bright. “She took my daughter, too. She did everything she had to… to make sure I lost custody, to make sure I was out of both of their lives for good. And I haven’t seen my little girl since. I’ve been living three years now without my heart, but the place where it’s supposed to be still aches so much.”
Lauren laid her head on his shoulder. It was a tender gesture, an intimate one, but it also felt right. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “All I ever wanted was for you to be honest with me, to let me in.”
He rested his head against hers, and they sat in silence until their individual rhythms synchronized. His heart, her breath, moved as one harmony.
“Will you come home?” he asked at last.
“I will,” she said. More and more, home had begun to feel like a person instead of a place. Would he one day feel the same about her, too?
Tonight was a start.