I wake Jane and Noah up early in the morning on Friday. We’re all set to go skiing. That’s the excuse, anyway. The real reason is that we are putting 70 miles between me and Jack. Between Noah and Jack. The bags are packed, and--

“Fuck--” Jane wails.

Noah looks up at her. She winces and clutches her stomach. “I mean, Crap--er--shoot!”

She doubles over, her hands still on her stomach.

“Jane, what’s--”

She shoves past me and rushes toward the bathroom.

“Aunt Jane’s gotta poop,” Noah says. “Number two.”

I look at him, confused.

“Maybe diarrhea,” he says, smiling.

I give her some space, not wanting to hear her diarrhea through the door. I take Noah with me into the living room, where all our bags are packed and ready.

If Jane is sick, then I can’t drag her on a ski trip. I could just take Noah...but who would look after Jane?

She finally walks out into the living room. She’s not walking in a straight line, and she looks awful.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Jane says. “Let’s get the bags into the--”

I swat her hand away from the bags. “Are you kidding? You’re not going skiing.”

“But Noah is so excited…” she says, her voice hoarse.

“You’re okay going skiing another time, right Noah?” I ask.

He wasn’t actually going to ski, just sled.

Noah bites his lip, his eyes widening. “We can’t go?”

“Aunt Jane is very sick,” I say. “We both have to take care of her.”

Noah nods.

I help Jane back into bed, and I start to unpack all the bags. I’ll just have to be careful. If I’m locked up in the house taking care of Jane, then what are the chances I’d run into Jack?

Jane is in and out of the bathroom all day, and she falls asleep for the night early, around 5 p.m.

Noah is extra fussy because I’m not able to spend as much time playing with him, and he hasn’t been able to go outside at all. He’s been doing a good job of not throwing tantrums, because he knows Jane is sick. It’s still a lot to ask of a three-year-old, and as soon as Jane falls asleep, I take him out to play for a while. Even though it's already dark.

I end up falling asleep myself at around 9 p.m.

Jane wakes me up in the morning. She’s smiling wide and looks totally fine.

“You’re better?” I ask.

She nods enthusiastically. “Totally better!”

“We could still go skiing,” I say. “We just--”

“Oh, come on,” she says. “We’re not packing all that stuff up again. I have a surprise for you, anyway.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you set up a surprise when you were so sick?”

“I woke up at like 4 a.m,” she says. “I guess all the extra sleep helped me recover.”

“Surprise?” Noah says, rushing in. “Aunt Jane, what is it?”

“If I tell you,” she says, “then it’s not a surprise, is it?”

He stares up at her, biting his lip. “How long until I see it?”

“One hour,” she says. “So we have to get ready. It’s an outside surprise.”

“Do I get to go sledding?” Noah asks, jumping up and down.

“You go sledding almost every day, sweetie, so that wouldn’t be a surprise.”

He looks almost disappointed. I scruff his hair. “Don’t worry,” I say, looking up at Jane. “I’m sure whatever it is will be more fun than sledding. Right Jane?”

She beams, smiling like a maniac.

* * *

We get in the car, and I fall asleep as we drive. Car rides always put me to sleep, even if I slept plenty the night before.

I wake up as soon as the car stops, and I see we are in a big open grass parking area.

“Where are we?” Noah asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Where are we?”

“If you could read the sign we passed earlier,” Jane says to Noah, “then you’d know!” She turns to me. “And if you could stay awake in the car, you’d know, too.”

“We’re here, Jane,” I say. “Just tell us. And please tell me it’s not the lumberjack competition.”

“It’s not the lumberjack competition,” she says.

We get out of the car and I take Noah by the hand. I see groups of people walking toward a big ticket booth, and I see some kids holding plastic axes.

“Why are those kids pretending to be lumberjacks if this isn’t the lumberjack competition?” I ask.

“They probably are coming from there and got excited,” Jane says.

“But the competition is today and hasn’t started yet, so they couldn’t have come from there,” I say.

“What’s lumberjack mean?” Noah asks.

“For someone who doesn’t want to go to the lumberjack competiton,” Jane says, “you sure know a heck of a lot about it!”

Jane leans into the ticket booth. “Three tickets. Two adults, one child. I have a discount for a Jane Murphy. M-U-R-P-H-Y. Murphy.”

“Murphy?” I ask grabbing her arm. “That’s not our last name.”

The ticket lady scowls up at us. “So you’re not Jane Murphy?”

“I am,” Jane says, elbowing me.

“What are these tickets for?” I ask.

“The Grand Lumberjack National Championship,” the ticket lady says in a very bored voice.

“Jane!” I snap, grabbing Noah’s hand. “I don’t want to go to this!”

“I don’t blame ya,” the ticket lady says.

“Come on!” Jane says. “It will be fun! Noah, lumberjacks are big strong guys who can chop trees down with their bare hands!”

“I think they use axes,” the ticket lady says. “You want the tickets or not, Jane Murphy?”

“Yes,” Jane says, throwing her credit card onto the counter.

“Just you then,” I say, turning around.

I pull Noah away, and when I look up, I slam into someone.

He’s big, and solid, and--I look up and gasp. He’s Jack.

Jack scowls at me, but behind his eyes is something else. Something I don’t even deserve to see.

My jaw drops open.

“No sister, Jane Murphy?” Jack says, looking over to Jane. Ignoring me.

“I don’t know why you two are doing this,” Jane says, “but--”

“Mommy?” Noah blurts out. “Is he a lumberjack?”

Jack looks down at his son, for the first time. Then up at me and Jane.

“Yeah, I’m a lumberjack,” he says, still looking at us.

He mouths two words to us. “Is he?” He points to his chest.

I nod.

“What’s your name?” Jack asks, squatting down to meet Noah eye to eye.

“Noah,” he says.

“I’m Jack.” He reaches out a hand.

“Shake it,” Jane says.

Noah reaches his hand out and touches his father’s. Jack smiles. “Strong grip. Maybe you can be a lumberjack, too?”

“I wanna be a sledder. Or a penguin.”

“Those are good jobs, too,” Jack says. “You like going sledding?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well,” Jack says, “I want to talk to you again later, and then maybe we can go sledding, but I think I need to talk to your mom.”