“I’ve heard about your honeymoon before,” I say carefully, shifting forward in my chair. “And I knew you spent a night in the mountains to see the Northern Lights … but this part? This is new.”
“Oh yeah, princess, this is the part where your mom would reach through the veil just to smack me.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “She swore she’d never tell you this story—said you’d think we were nuts. But I think …” He hesitates. “I think she was scared you’d believe it.”
Who the hell is this man, and what did he do with my logical, grounded father?
“What happened next?” I ask, gripping my phone until the case creaks in my hand.
“So, I run out of the tent like an idiot, in bare feet, screaming your mother’s name.”
Another laugh, and I swear I can hear him shaking his head.
“The no-footprints thing. I think that’s what scared me the most. I quickly got dressed, ran back outside, and yelled for your mother at the top of my lungs. You know as well as I do that when Ellie got lost in her head, everything else became background noise.”
He’s right. I know that better than anyone.
“I set out in a straight line from the tent, never letting it out of my sight. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find my way back, even with my own footsteps to follow. I made this pattern in several directions, and just when I thought I’d have to call emergency rescue, I noticed something glowing in the distance.”
My breath catches.Glowing?
“Even though it was pretty far from the tent, I knew it had something to do with your mother. So, I slowly made my way to a pile of rocks stacked under an enormous pine tree. Yourmother sat on the highest rock, in her nightclothes—no shoes, no coat—happily smiling at the sky.”
The image inks itself into my mind, too vivid to forget.
“I approached her as quietly as I could. I was worried she might be in the early stages of hypothermia, and I didn’t want to scare her or put any extra strain on her heart.
“But before I could say a word—without even glancing at me— she whispered, ‘Aren’t they beautiful, Eamon? I always knew they would be. Will you join me?’”
His voice drops, once again lost in the beautifully painful memory.
“I was about to wrap my coat around her when I felt the searing heat radiating off her body. It wasn’t feverish. It was just … wrong. Like something burning from the inside out. I should have pulled back. Some instinct deep in my brain screamed at me to stop … but I didn’t.”
A slow exhale crackles through the phone.
“When I took her hand, it was … warm. Not burning. Not painful. Just warm. So, I turned my attention to the sky. And, Aurora, she was right. The lights were breathtaking, but they were nothing compared to how your mother looked that night. She was a source of wonder. A spark of something magical. And I knew—I fucking knew—I’d protect her from this world, no matter what it took.”
A big, stupid lump forms in my throat. I love my dad, but right now, in this moment, I somehow find a way to love him even more. Before I can speak around the lump, he continues.
“You’ve read the myths surrounding the Northern Lights, right?”
“Um, yeah. I think I looked them up when I was little, after you and Mom told me why you named me Aurora. Something about fire foxes, right?”
“Exactly. Though each myth is different depending on where it comes from. My favorite is from Finland. The Northern Lights are calledrevontulet—literally ‘fox fires.’ The legend says arctic foxes create the aurora when they run so fast that their tails spark against the mountains, lighting up the sky.”
A soft sniffle comes through the speaker.
“This next part is … well … Anyway, I had trouble keeping my eyes on the sky. Your mother was a vision that night. But I knew Ellie would be upset if I didn’t watch the lights, so I finally forced myself to look up.
“And I swear, SB, I saw them.”
I stop breathing, my body bracing for whatever comes next.
“A pack of playful fire foxes darted through the sky, their tails skimming the snow-capped mountains, sparks flying with every step. And when your mother giggled at my stupid, dumbstruck face, I fell in love with her all over again.”
Great, now the tears. They slip down my cheek before I even realize I’m crying.
“I watched the sky, sneaking glances at my new wife, just … thanking the universe for the chance to love her.”
His voice tightens, and I can almost see his face twisted in pain, trying to bring himself back.
