Jonah grinned. “You’re welcome for the...gift, Bering. I’m glad you’re enjoying...it.”
“Oh, boy, yeah—we are using the heck out that...thing.” Bering looked guilty as he added, “Sorry, Jonah—I don’t even know what...”
Jonah laughed. “I don’t remember what I got for you either, Bering. My assistant took care of it for me.”
They both chuckled, and Jonah realized how good it felt to share a joke with a friend. He didn’t have friends like this back in Chicago. Coworkers, colleagues that he admired, but no true got-your-back kinds of friends like Bering.
“Man, it’s good to lay eyes on you though,” Bering said. “Glad to see city life isn’t making you soft. How long are you in town for?”
“Not sure yet. A few weeks at least.”
“That’s great. We’ll have to get together. By the way, have you heard yet that I’m going to be a dad?”
Jonah felt something wrench hard in his chest. He was happy for his friend of course; it was just being here so close to Shay where he was inundated with these thoughts of their almost-life together that had him feeling a bit envious, he told himself.
“Congratulations, Bering! That’s amazing.”
Neither he nor Bering were much for social media, so over the years they’d mostly kept in touch via the occasional email or phone call—usually on Bering’s part. Suddenly, Jonah felt a little guilty about that.
Bering dipped his head in the direction of his pickup. “Hop in, I’ll buy you breakfast at the Caribou. I’m meeting Tag and Cricket and some of the guys.”
“That sounds good, but, um...I’m not quite finished with my run.” Not to mention that Shay’s older brother, Tag, would be less than thrilled to discover he was back in town.
“Ah, I get it. You headed up to see Shay?”
“I am, but not for the reason you’re probably thinking.”
“I wasn’t thinking anything.” Bering shrugged, but he appeared to be fighting a grin.
Jonah stared at his feet for a few seconds. Maybe it would do him some good to talk to Bering. And he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing some of the guys. He looked back up. “You know what? Breakfast sounds great.”
* * *
“SO, IF MR. TAKAGI CALLS—or shows up—tell him that yes, he can absolutely check in early. His suite is ready and he could be arriving at any time because he’s flying in on his own plane. And you will personally help Mr. Takagi put the koi in the tank and get him anything he needs, okay? We will also be feeding the fish and monitoring the water temperature et cetera, per Mr. Takagi’s instructions. You’ve read them, right?”
“Yes, but Shay, they are goldfish. How difficult can this be?”
“Hannah, they are not mere goldfish.”
Hannah tipped her head and gave Shay a doubtful look.
“For your information—these fish are worth thousands of dollars. There is one that could sell for over ten-thousand alone. It has a rare lipstick pattern.”
Hannah snickered. “Lipstick pattern, huh? I don’t even want to think about how that came to be.”
“Hannah, this is serious.”
“I know.” Hannah nodded, her face now a solemn mask. “I do know, so in my ongoing quest to constantly improve my customer service skills, I am going to assure Mr. Takagi that I will win him as many goldfish as he wants at the next carnival to come through Glacier City. You can get six Ping-Pong balls for a five-spot, and as you’re well aware, my accuracy at the fish frenzy is renowned. And, as a special bonus—for Mr. Takagi only—I can arrange for these fish to all have Hannah James’s personalized Ping-Pong pattern.”
Shay sighed, dipped her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she looked back at her sister and met gold-brown eyes that were a close match to her own, except Hannah’s were now filled with laughter.
“In spite of your lame attempts at fish humor here, you are going to follow all of these instructions, right?”
“Of course,” Hannah said. “But remind me again why we’re going to have the giant goldfish trough out back.”
“We have to keep these fish alive until Mrs. Milner gets her pond and atrium finished. There was a delay in the construction, but Mr. Takagi could only transport the fish now—and he insists on transporting all the rare koi himself. If she didn’t get them now then she would have to wait months for another opportunity, which would add the complication of the winter weather. Mrs. Milner asked if we could keep them here because she doesn’t want them at her house with all the noise and mess of the construction going on.”
Hannah stared back at her and Shay could tell she was trying not to crack a smile.
“Go ahead and say it,” Shay said.
“Okay, I’m thinking about how Bud and Cindy—our goldfish? The ones I won at the school carnival in fourth grade? We had them for nine years in a glass bowl in the middle of the coffee table. Mom and Dad raised six kids in that house. Mittens drank out of the bowl daily and I wasn’t exactly religious about changing the water.” She chuckled. “Remember that time Seth knocked the bowl over and Bud and Cindy were flopping around on the floor? Mittens swatted Bud around a couple times like he was a cat toy and I was sure he was a goner. But I scooped them both up and dropped them in Tag’s glass of water.” She laughed for a few long seconds.
Shay stared back at her blandly, brows arched—prompting her to get to the point.
“I’m thinking the goldfish will be fine, Shay.”
“Hannah, listen to me, if you are going to operate your own place someday—like you tell me you might like to do—then you have to go above and beyond for your guests.” Owning her own hotel had been Hannah’s latest idea in a long list that she’d been compiling during the months of her recovery.
Shay reminded herself to have patience. Hannah was still trying to deal with having her life’s work—her identity—snatched away from her. It had been just over a year since the accident—and the end of her professional skiing career. Her body had healed for the most part, but Shay knew it would be a while before the rest of her completely caught up.
“It’s part of—”
Hannah interrupted. “Shay, I’m kidding. I’m ready for the fish. What is wrong with you, today? You always—well, almost always, think I’m funny.”
Shay stared at her sister, anxiety fluttering in her stomach. Maybe it would help to talk about it. “Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I’m waiting for Jonah to call. Caleb—”
“Jonah!” Her voice shot up in tone and volume. “Jonah is here? He’s in town? In Rankins?”
“Yes, to all three of the exact same creatively crafted questions,” Shay answered drily.
Hannah flashed a knowing smile with an exaggerated nod. “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why you’re all testy and irritable.”
“Hannah, no, I’m not. Jonah doesn’t have anything—”
Hannah held up a finger. “Hold on just a sec.” She grabbed her phone and tapped out a text. Then she looked back at Shay. “Continue.”
“I’m worried about Caleb. He had an appointment with Doc this morning.”
“Doc? Well, of course you’re worried about Caleb, too, then. But that’s not what’s going on right now. Because when you’re worried