Summer of the Loon
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| Cover Design by Tugboat Design |
A Novel
Book Description:
Life can change in a heartbeat…
Ali Jenson's life changed forever the moment her mother died. The sixteen-year-old was suddenly swept away from the life she knew in California to live with her estranged grandfather in the deep woods of northern Minnesota. Ali's life has never been easy, but it seems her grandfather is trying his best to make it even more difficult. Her only hope is to get through the summer and her last year of high school so she can return to her old life in California. What she hadn't counted on was slowly becoming attached to the grumpy old man and falling in love for the very first time.
Benjamin Jenson never planned on meeting his granddaughter, let alone having her live with him. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of a teenage girl coming into his home or his life. He'd been down that path once before, and he didn't want to relive it again. But he is her only living relative, and he knew his deceased wife, Lizzie, would have wanted him to give Ali a home. Grudgingly, he figured he could put up with the girl for a year. He never expected Ali to find a way into his heart and make him face painful past memories and his worst fear. The fear of losing yet another person he loves.
Will Ben finally let go of the past and give Ali the one thing she's always dreamed of? A home.
Contemporary Fiction/Women's Fiction
Family Drama/
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Chapter One
Alison Jenson tucked a stray strand of dark brown hair
behind her ear as she wriggled again to try to get comfortable in the narrow
airplane seat. She was happy she had a window seat. The airplane from
Minneapolis, MN to Duluth was small—only fifty seats in all—with a very narrow
aisle, meaning she'd have had a person on either side of her. Sitting by the
window meant she could pretend to be busy looking down at the landscape below
and not have to make small talk with the older gentleman sitting next to her.
Ali rubbed her sweaty palms over her jean-clad legs as she
stared out the window. All she saw below were trees and lakes. Very few towns
popped up between Minneapolis and Duluth once they'd left the Metro area. Until
about fifteen minutes ago, she was able to distract herself from her
destination by texting her best friend, Megan, back in California. But then her
phone service was cut off suddenly and she lost contact with her last tie to
her old life. Ali already missed Megan and her other friends in California, she
already missed her high school in Torrance, and she missed the warm sun and
sandy beaches. Most of all, she missed her mom.
The small airplane banked, and Ali saw that they were
already making their descent into Duluth. She'd never been to this part of the
country before and had no idea what to expect. When her plane had landed in
Minneapolis, she'd been delighted to see how large the airport was. During her
two-hour delay, she'd wandered the shops and enjoyed a caramel cappuccino and a
cookie in a Starbucks. Her phone had informed her that it was fifty-seven
degrees outside, which she thought was cold, but apparently it was normal for
the middle of May in Minneapolis. Ali had no idea how cold it would be farther
north and hoped she'd dressed warm enough in her jeans, UGG boots, and zippered
hoodie over a T-shirt.
The plane landed smoothly on the tarmac, and Ali reached
down under the seat in front of her to retrieve her laptop backpack. Looking
out the window once more, she was surprised to see how small the airport was.
She wondered if he was in the terminal, waiting for her. She wondered what he
looked like, and how she'd recognize him. She wondered if he was as nervous as
she was.
Ali stood, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and
followed the other passengers out of the plane and up the ramp into the
terminal. This was it. At only sixteen years old, her former life was behind
her, and she was walking toward her new life, meeting her estranged grandfather
for the very first time.
***
Benjamin Jenson stood in the airport terminal behind the
crowd of people waiting for the passengers from Minneapolis to disembark. His
tall frame allowed him to see easily over the crowd, so he stood in the very
back so he could spot his granddaughter before she saw him. He knew he had an
advantage. Even though he hadn't seen a photograph of his granddaughter since
she was five years old, he knew there'd be no mistaking his Jennifer's child.
She'd have Jen's vibrant blue eyes and creamy skin, she'd be tall and slender,
and she'd probably have that same stubborn set to her jaw that he remembered so
well from his little Jen.
Ben straightened the collar of his blue, plaid, flannel
shirt and ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair. At sixty years old, he
was in good shape and looked much younger than his age. Years of physical labor
working outside had helped to keep his body lean and strong, although being
exposed to the elements had etched creases in his face, especially in the
corners of his dark blue eyes when he smiled, which he rarely did. He hadn't
had much to smile about over the past seventeen years, and most of the people
who knew him understood without being told that he was a man of few words. He
was a hardworking man, and an honest one, which was all that really mattered in
the tough country of the north woods.
Ben wasn't happy at the prospect of having a teenage girl he
didn't even know moving in with him. The news of his daughter's untimely death
had jolted him severely and brought back a range of emotions that he thought
he'd buried deep down inside long ago. Pain, heartbreak, anger, resentment, and
guilt had all filtered through the crevices of the locked door to his heart,
feelings he thought he'd never have to deal with again. But then, the
realization that he was his granddaughter's only living relative and he was
responsible for her, helped to push those feelings aside, all of them except
resentment. Why should he be responsible
for this girl he didn't know? Ben had grumbled this to himself several
times over the past few weeks since he'd found out about Jennifer's death. The
last thing he needed was some spoiled city girl from California to come and
muck up his life, the life he'd so carefully put back together since the death
of his wife, Lizzie.
Because Lizzie would want me to, was the answer he'd hear in
his head every time he grumbled.
Ben was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a woman in
front of him squeal with delight at the sight of one of the first passengers
filing into the waiting area. Soon, more people followed, and Ben studied each
face before moving on to the next. Ben's expression turned into a scowl. Damn. What if she'd missed her flight from
Minneapolis? The next flight wasn't due until this evening, and they still
had a two-and-a-half hour drive back to the cabin. He wouldn't put it past the
girl to have missed it. He crossed his arms and continued to wait, all the
while convincing himself that it was going to be a long day of waiting.
***
Ali saw her grandfather immediately as she passed through
the doorway into the waiting area. He was easy to recognize, standing there at
the back of the crowd, scowling. He was taller than she'd imagined, and looked
younger, too, but there was no mistaking that this man was her relative. The
dark hair and intense blue eyes, so much like her own, gave him away, but the
strong set to his square jaw was a dead giveaway. It reminded her of her mother
when she was stubborn. As she stared at him, Ali saw her grandfather's eyes
settle upon her, and recognition filled his gaze. She felt his eyes as
intensely as if he'd actually touched her.
It was a strange feeling, seeing him for the first time, yet feeling his
presence as if she knew him. Straightening her back, Ali lifted her backpack up
higher on her shoulder and strode purposefully through the crowd of people
toward her grandfather's stern eyes.
Ali stopped only inches from him and stared up at him with
questioning eyes. She didn't smile, and neither did he.
"Alison?" he asked, staring down at her.
Ali nodded. She didn't know what else to do. As everyone
else around them hugged each other in greeting, they just stood there and
stared at each other. Finally, feeling as if she should do something, Ali
raised her hand and extended it to him. "It's nice to finally meet you,
Grandfather."
Ben frowned down at her and stared at her offered hand as if
contemplating whether or not to shake it. Finally, he grasped it in his own
large, rough hand, gave it a squeeze, and quickly let it go.
"Well, I see you made your flight," Ben said, his
face still stern. "We have a long drive ahead of us. I assume you have
more bags." He nodded toward the bag on her shoulder.
Ali merely stared at him. She hadn't expected him to be
thrilled that she was here, but she'd hoped he'd show some warmth toward his
only grandchild. Her mother had been so affectionate and loving. How in the
world had she come from this cold, hard person in front of her?
"I have one other bag," Ali finally answered.
"Only one?" Ben raised his brows.
"Only one."
"Hmmm." Ben turned on his heel and waved for Ali
to follow. She did. They made their way to the baggage claim area behind the
line of other passengers who had come off her flight.
Ali saw her large, black bag on the carousal and immediately
headed over to lift it off. Seeing her struggle with the heavy bag, Ben came up
beside her and lifted it easily out of her hands and onto the floor in one
smooth motion.
Ali cut her eyes to him. "Thanks," she said
through pursed lips as she took ahold of the handle and pulled it away from
him.
"Let me carry that for you," Ben offered.
"I can take care of it myself," Ali said.
Ben stared at her for only a second. "Fine. The truck
is this way." He turned and walked away with Ali on his heels.
Her grandfather led her outside to a parking lot filled with
oversized pickup trucks and SUVs. It was
a sunny day, although the air was cool. Ali was glad she'd worn her sweatshirt.
When she'd left California, it was eighty-three degrees. Here, it was more like
fifty degrees.
They stopped at an extended cab, navy blue, Dodge Ram truck
that looked fairly new. Ben took Ali's large bag from her and easily hoisted it
up into the back seat of the truck, then walked around to the driver's side and
stepped up behind the wheel. The truck was so high off the ground, Ali found
she had to literally pull herself up into the cab.
Not a word passed between the two in the pickup as Ben
maneuvered his way out of Duluth and headed northwest. Ali had no idea where he
lived. She knew he lived on a lake and had owned and operated a resort, but
that was about all her mother had told her over the years. Ali watched as the
road turned from four lanes to two and the landscape turned from homes and
businesses to trees. There was nothing for miles and miles except trees.
After riding for a while without her grandfather saying a
word to her, Ali pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked for a signal.
She had two bars. She quickly texted Megan to tell her she had arrived safely
and was with her grandfather.
"That thing won't do you much good once we get closer
to home," Ben said into the silent cab.
Ben's sudden words startled Ali, and she looked up at him
with wide eyes. His voice was deep and gruff, which didn't make him sound any
friendlier.
"There's spotty cell service in Auburn, the town near
where we live, but none out at the cabin. It won't be worth the money you pay
to have it there," Ben said.
Ali looked down at her phone. It was at one bar now. "I
was just texting my friend back home to let her know I made it here," she
said. "Her mother wanted to make sure I was safe."
Ben nodded as he continued staring straight ahead at the
road. "Is your friend's mother the woman I spoke to? The one you were
staying with these past few weeks?"
"Yes," Ali said. "That was Megan's mom,
Amy."
"Nice woman," Ben said, the gruffness in his voice
softening a little. "It was kind of her to take you in like that."
Ali's heart quickened at his words and she bit the inside of
her cheek to stop herself from hurling a nasty retort. Ali had known Megan and
her family since the school had moved Ali ahead a year into second grade, and
Megan became her best friend. Megan's mother was like a second mother to Ali.
Of course they took her in after her mother died. Amy had even offered to allow
her to live with them over the next year so Ali could spend her senior year of
high school in the same school and not have to transfer. But then Ali's
grandfather had agreed to take her in, and there was nothing she or Amy could
do about it since he was her only living relative.
Ali felt her grandfather's eyes on her and turned to see him
staring at her. She felt compelled to say something. "I've known Megan's
family for a long time. They were happy to help."
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly and he nodded toward Ali's
phone. "Well, don't expect me to pay for you to have that thing while
you're living here. It's too expensive to pay for something that can't be used
most of the time."
Ali pocketed her phone and turned her head to look out the
side window. She didn't expect the old man to pay for anything for her. She
could take care of herself.
The miles dragged on as the silence in the truck grew
thicker. Ali wanted to attach her headphones on her phone and block out the
silence with music, except her battery was low and her charger was packed in
her big bag. So, she sat there as they passed tree after tree, broken up by an
occasional body of water or a field of cows or horses. Ali had never seen so
much unoccupied land in her life, let alone so many pine trees. Where did all
the people live? Occasionally, they'd drive through a small town, or at least a
place that had a sign stating there was a town, but all Ali saw was a rundown
gas station and maybe a church and a couple of houses. It felt like they were
driving to the last place on earth.
Ben pulled over at a small gas station and restaurant in a
tiny town about an hour and a half out of Duluth. The parking lot was filled
with trucks pulling boats on trailers. It seemed full for such a small town.
"Hungry?" he asked.
Ali shrugged. The little restaurant looked fairly clean, but
it was nothing like what she was used to.
"Well, we either eat supper here or else go hungry.
We're going to miss supper at the lodge, so we may as well get a bite
here," Ben said.
Ali followed him inside and was surprised at how many people
were there. Ali and Ben sat at a table by the front window, and after looking
at the meager menu, both ordered cheeseburgers and fries.
Ali looked around her. The place was filled mostly with men,
and they were all dressed much like her grandfather was, in jeans, T-shirts,
and flannel shirts or sweatshirts, and work boots. Many had caps on their heads. She wondered
what they were all doing up here in the middle of nowhere.
"Fishing opener was last weekend," Ben said, as if
to answer Ali's thoughts.
Ali looked up, startled. "What?"
"The fishing opener. It's practically a holiday up
here. All these men are staying at local resorts and fishing."
Ali frowned, trying to understand. "What do you mean by
fishing opener? Don't you fish all year around here?"
Ben shook his head. "The season goes roughly from May
to February, depending upon the type of fish you're looking to catch. Opening
is a big deal. The ice has gone out on the lakes and everyone is raring to get
their boats out on the water. It's basically the beginning of the summer
season, and it's a good moneymaker for resorts."
Ali nodded even though she really didn't understand much
about fishing. Her grandfather seemed happy to be talking about something he
enjoyed though, so she listened as they ate their meal and he talked about fish
like walleye, northern pike, and crappies. He said he knew every good fishing
hole on Willow Lake where his house and the resort was, and he was a fishing
guide to tourists who came up to the lodge.
"They never leave empty-handed," he said proudly.
Ali knew about malls, crowded parks and beaches, and sunny days all year round,
but she didn't know one thing about northern Minnesota, trees, or fishing.
Ali and Ben hopped back into the truck and rambled on down
the road as the sun traveled low in the west. Ben seemed a little less stern
after telling Ali what he knew about fishing, and there seemed to be less
tension in the air between them. Ali checked her phone, and just as her
grandfather had said, there was no tower service. She sighed and returned the
phone to her pocket.
"If you need to make a call, we can stop in town a
moment before heading out to the cabin," Ben offered.
Ali turned and looked at him, surprised by his kind offer.
"No, that's okay. I'm sure they got my message."
Ben nodded and kept driving. He broke the silence again.
"I'm sorry about your mother," he said, his tone gentle.
Ali had been strong all this time. From the moment she'd
been told by the lawyer she was going to live with her grandfather, throughout
packing up the small apartment she shared with her mother, and even through the
goodbyes to her friends in California and the long flight here. She'd expected
a grouchy old man, just as her mother had described him over the years, and he
hadn't disappointed her. But hearing him say this, in a soft, caring voice, was
the final tipping point that unnerved her to her core. She narrowed her eyes at
him. "Not sorry enough to make it to the funeral, though." The harsh
words came out of Ali's mouth so quickly, even she was stunned by them.
Ben sat quiet a moment, definitely not the reaction Ali
expected. Finally, he said, "I didn't really think I'd be welcome there.
Figured it was best to stay away."
Ali turned away as her eyes filled and two tears trailed
down her cheeks. Welcome to Minnesota,
she thought as those incessant trees continued to pass by and the sun sank into
darkness.
