Book 2 of 2, sequel to Alaska's Illicit.
In which Mikaere returns to Alaska, but upon arriving realizes that she has a new problem: Vaughn, Darren, or should she just stick with Jared?
Vaughn's past and life are revealed, and also a serial killer mi...
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Three old dogs lay in front of the fire.
One is silent, one makes tired sighs every so often, and one is sleeping, as indicated by his paws twitching as he runs in his dreams.
There's Lacy, a sweet, blind, basset hound I rescued a year ago. She's the silent one. There's Bowser, a green bean-loving Landseer Newfoundland Vaughn adopted years ago. And then there's Red, tired after 13 years of putting up with me, but still as playful as ever even when he's not awake.
They enjoy the woodstove almost as much as me, I think. Especially on snowy days like these.
It falls down in heavy, fluffy chunks, and as always, reminds me of a somewhat monumental event that occurred at Siara and Zeke's wedding.
I've finished prepping for the flatbread Vaughn and I will be cooking as a snack in the fireplace a few minutes ago. He should be back shortly, as he had to run and get a few things from the grocery store.
But I've decided that until he returns, I would take a moment to look through some things, as I often like to do on winter evenings such as these.
There's a large wooden box at my feet filled with polaroids and printed photographs taken after that first year in Juneau. I plan on hanging some or putting them in a sort of book eventually, but for now, in the box, filed away, they shall stay.
There are the ones taken by either me or Vaughn - numerous photos from different times I had completed items, both big and small, off my bucket list entitled, 'bucket list before I kick the bucket.' Photos from traveling to various parts of Alaska. Going back to Chickaloon and visiting everyone again. Contacting Grace and later visiting her. (I still vividly remember the way Grace's eyes widened when he stepped in behind me. Priceless.) Visiting a butterfly sanctuary. Riding a Ferris wheel, (turns out I don't like it.) Trying eggnog, (turns out I don't like that, either.) Going on a drive-in date with Vaughn, traveling by train, and the list goes on.
There are the ones taken by various people. Some from different day trips with Vaughn over the years, and some from weekend fishing trips with Si and Zeke. A collection from college, all throughout the experience, which I found to be alright. Mainly exhausting. Pictures taken after ethereal summer nights spent driving down an Alaskan highway. Photos following every new dog adoption.
But these I love because they show my travels and adventures and accomplishments of my twenties. They remind me to keep documenting like this because I've always enjoyed this kind of reminiscing. And they remind me of who I was at that time in my life. They remind me of being 18 and moving to Alaska, feeling wildly incapable of doing anything at all. And as I look back, now, I wish I could tell her, 'So what, you don't know who you are yet. You're not supposed to know. In fact, you may never know. That's just how life is for some people, and there's no need to stress so heavily over it. You'll grow and learn with time.'
There are also some of uncle John's photographs that I had printed, and some - like of Moose - that we had framed, as well.
There are some sent from Jasmine from the different places she's lived over the past decade, including scenic photos and ones of her pet bird. And there are others sent from Malee who I still keep in touch with.
