2. Aubrey

2

Aubrey

Sitting in my cluttered but cozy home office, I punch in the number for our conference call, my gaze flitting over the colorful sticky notes that frame my computer screen like a modern art masterpiece. Savannah Richards, ever the organized chaos in human form and co-owner for our business Evergreen Marketing, is already on the line, her voice filling the room with that energetic buzz that's her signature.

"Alright, Aubrey, are we ready to dazzle and conquer, or what?" Savannah's voice, laced with amusement and determination, comes through the speaker.

I chuckle, clicking through our presentation slides. "When have we ever not been ready? Let's knock their socks off."

"That's the spirit! Okay, so about the Johnson account, I was thinking we really push the eco-friendly angle. It's totally on-brand for them and could set them apart in the market," Savannah suggests, her tone serious but always infused with a hint of excitement for the challenge.

"I’m right there with you," I agree, nodding to myself as if she could see me. "And if we tie it into a community project, it could really resonate with their target audience. Make it more than just a marketing ploy, you know?"

"Genius, Aub! See, this is why we're unbeatable. Your brain, my charm, we're the dream team," she quips, and I can practically hear the smirk in her voice.

"Our clients seem to think so, at least. Let's just hope Mr. Johnson feels the same way about our 'genius' ideas." I can't help the laughter that bubbles up. Working with Savannah has always been like this—a seamless blend of professional prowess and the comfort of friendship.

"God, I love how we can bounce between bitching about clients and planning world domination without missing a beat."

"You know me, darling. Life's more fun when you mix business with pleasure." Savannah's laugh sparkles through the phone, that signature sound that makes everyone within earshot want to be in on the joke. "Though I have to say, your evil genius plotting definitely keeps things interesting."

"Please, you're the one who can charm a room full of executives into doing whatever you want with just a smile."

"True. But your strategies make sure I'm smiling at the right people, at the right time. That's why we're unstoppable together."

I can practically see her platinum blonde hair catching the light as she speaks, her brown eyes shining with that familiar spark of mischief. People often tell her she looks like Margot Robbie, the gorgeous Australian actress, and it’s easy to see why; she radiates an effortless elegance that captivates everyone around her. Even over the phone, her confidence shines through, her voice commanding attention with each word.

"Hey, before I forget, are we still on for that horror movie marathon on Friday? I need my weekly dose of screaming at the TV with someone who appreciates the art of bad horror as much as I do," she asks, shifting gears without missing a beat.

"You know it. I wouldn't miss it for the world. Just make sure you bring the popcorn this time. Your popcorn duty negligence is starting to become a pattern," I tease back.

"Deal! And Aub, seriously, thanks for always being there. Not just for the popcorn but, you know, for everything."

The warmth in her voice wraps around me like a hug. "Always, Sav. You're stuck with me, remember? For horror movies, client calls, and everything in between."

As I'm flipping through the next slide, the door creaks open, and a tiny intruder makes his way into the office. It's Luke, my two-year-old bundle of energy and unpredictability, clutching his favorite dinosaur toy.

"Mommy, Rarrr!" he announces, holding the dinosaur aloft like it's the most important news of the day.

I can't help but melt, switching instantly from business mode to mom mode. "Oh no, is that a T-Rex I see? I hope he's not going to eat me!" I play along, my voice filled with mock fear.

Luke giggles, a sound that fills the room with its infectious joy. "No eat Mommy. Luke and Rarrr friends," he declares solemnly, coming over to show me his prehistoric pal up close.

"Well, thank goodness for that. I don't think I'd make a very tasty snack anyway," I say, running my fingers through his thick, tousled golden blonde hair that always seems to catch the light just right.

"Why don't you and Mr. Rarrr go build a dino-castle in the living room? I'll come and check it out as soon as I'm done here."

"Okay, Mommy. We make big castle!" he promises, already distracted by his next big project, dinosaur in tow.

Watching him toddle out, I'm struck, not for the first time, by the sheer unpredictability of life. Luke's existence is a testament to a night that changed everything, a connection so brief yet so deep, it left me with the best surprise of my life. The guy from that night, Shane, he's out there, unaware he's a dad.

Sometimes, I think about tracking him down. I've tossed around every idea from hiring a private investigator to posting on those missed connections forums. But then, what would I even say?

I've grilled Esmeralda and my brother, but it’s like he ghosted the party too—no one knew him beyond that night. He was someone’s plus-one, but it’s not clear who.

I’ve hit every dead end you can think of, and honestly, I’ve got to wonder if it’s just the universe’s way of saying some stories are better left at ‘the end.’ But then, there’s our son, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel right to let it go.

But for all I knew, the man vanished into thin air.

Turning back to the screen, I'm pulled from my thoughts by Savannah's sudden shift in demeanor. Her face is serious, all business, and there's a tension in her voice that immediately sets me on edge.

"Uh oh," she starts, and I know whatever's coming next isn't going to be simple.

"Do you remember Ice Ranch, the place owned by that client I’ve been working with?" Savannah's question snaps me back from my reverie about Luke, straight into work mode.

"Ice Ranch? That's a new one for me," I reply, chuckling. “What do they do there, harvest ice cubes?”

“No, silly. Ice Ranch is owned by a family whose last name is actually Ice. Unusual, right?”

"Ice, as in frozen water? That’s their last name?" I can't help but raise an eyebrow. Names like Smith or Jones I get, but Ice?

Savannah chuckles. "I thought the same. But Jack Ice, the owner, is pretty proud of his heritage. He told me once that 'Ice' is an Americanized version of a German surname. Originally, it meant 'sharp sword blade'—kind of cool, huh?"

"Definitely more interesting than my last name," I admit, smiling. "Sounds like they’ve got quite the story."

"They do. Anyway, it's this beautiful ranch owned by Jack, about an hour north of Cedar Creek up in Wisconsin. It's a family-run place, and they've got this Airbnb on the property. Really picturesque," she explains, her tone shifting as she delves into the specifics. "Jack's looking to boost the Airbnb side of things. He's ready to throw some serious money at it to increase their bookings."

That catches my attention. "Sounds like a big opportunity for us."

"Yeah, it is. But here's the thing," Savannah continues, her expression turning apologetic. "Jack just asked for an in-person meeting about the marketing strategy. And with me heading to England this week, I thought I'd handle it over Zoom. Turns out, he's pretty old-school. Wants to do things in person, face-to-face, because he doesn’t trust Zoom, whatever that means.”

I sense where this is going, the responsibility shifting in my direction even before she says it. The prospect of meeting a client in person isn't daunting, but the timing could be better. Still, when Savannah needs backup, I'm there, no questions asked.

"So, I'm guessing this means I'm heading up north?" I say, more a statement than a question, already mentally rearranging my schedule to accommodate the trip.

Savannah's relief is palpable, even through the screen. "I owe you big time, Aub. This client could be a game-changer for us, and I'd hate to lose out just because I'm away."

The mention of being out of the country suddenly reminds me of my own predicament—Mom, my go-to babysitter for Luke, is soaking up the sun in Florida this week. "Speaking of being away, Mom's in Tampa, so I'm a bit short on babysitting options," I mention, a frown creasing my forehead as I start to puzzle through the logistics.

Savannah, ever the problem-solver, doesn't miss a beat. "Why not make it a road trip? Cedar Creek’s only about an hour away from Chicago. It could be fun, and Luke would probably love the adventure. Plus, the payoff if we land this—think of the bonuses, Aubrey. And you know I'll owe you one—big time."

A road trip with Luke? The idea has its appeal. I can already imagine his excitement, the way his eyes would light up at the prospect of an adventure, just the two of us. And the financial incentive, not to mention the professional growth for our firm, makes it hard to say no.

"You know what? Let's do it," I decide, a smile breaking through my initial hesitation. The more I think about it, the more it feels like the right call—not just for the business, but for a little unplanned quality time with Luke. "Looks like we're heading to Wisconsin, buddy," I say, already picturing his reaction.

Turning back to Savannah, I affirm our plan. "I'll pack us up tonight. We'll head out first thing tomorrow. And hey, thanks for the push. This could be exactly what we need."

The excitement in Savannah's voice is evident, even through the phone. "You're the best, Aub. Seriously, this could be huge for us. And I promise, when I'm back, we'll celebrate—my treat."

Hanging up, I can't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with a dash of nervousness. Telling Luke about our little adventure is the next step, and I'm already imagining the questions he'll have. "Road trip, dinosaurs, and maybe even some cowboys, Luke. What do you say?"

As I prepare to break the news to my little co-adventurer, I can't help but feel strangely jazzed for the trip ahead.

*

As I steer the car onto the sprawling property of Ice Ranch, I can't help but let out a low whistle. Even from the first glance, it's clear this place is something special. The gravel crunches under the tires, a welcome melody to mark our arrival into what feels like a different world from the hustle of Chicago. Luke, strapped securely in the back, is practically vibrating with excitement, his face pressed against the window, eyes wide at the sight of open fields and the distant silhouette of horses grazing.

"Look, Mommy! Horsies!" His delighted squeal breaks the tranquil air, and I smile, catching his enthusiasm in my rearview mirror. “And cowsies!”

"I see them, buddy. Pretty cool, huh?" I respond, my own curiosity piqued by the expanse of the ranch stretching out before us.

The property is dotted with towering oak trees, their leaves whispering secrets of the land's rich history. There's a sense of timeless charm here, a testament to the care and love poured into the land. As we approach the main buildings, I take in the details Savannah had rattled off during our hurried planning session.

There are two main structures that command attention. The first, a sprawling family home, exudes a welcoming warmth, its wooden facade painted a soft, inviting hue that speaks of generations of the Ice family calling it home. The porch, adorned with rocking chairs and pots of blooming flowers, offers a picturesque view of the serene landscape.

The second building, larger and equally charming, is the Airbnb. It stands a little distance from the family home, its design thoughtful and inviting, clearly intended to accommodate guests with comfort and style. The expansive windows promise views of the sunrise over the fields, and I can already imagine the tranquility of waking up to such a sight.

Though I already miss the familiar buzz of Chicago, the vibrant energy of my city life, there's an undeniable thrill in this new adventure. The ranch, with its open skies and the promise of simplicity, offers a pause from the relentless pace I'm used to. And as I park the car, I can't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of what this week might bring. "We're here, bub. Ready for our big adventure?" I ask, turning to him with a smile.

"Yeah! Adventure!" Luke's enthusiasm is contagious, and as we step out into the fresh, country air, I'm reminded that sometimes, the best stories begin with a little bit of the unexpected.

As I pull up in front of the main house, the anticipation bubbles up inside me, only to be met with a scene that feels like it’s straight out of a storybook. There, waiting with a smile as welcoming as the ranch itself, stands a young woman with curly brown hair, a trim figure, and a warm smile, her demeanor radiating a down-to-earth charm that's instantly comforting.

“Hi, you must be Aubrey! I’m Emma Ice,” she greets, her voice tinged with the warmth of genuine hospitality. She looks about ten years younger than me—in her mid-teens.

By her side, wagging its tail with an enthusiasm that defies its handicap, is a three-legged Golden Retriever that ambles over to Luke with friendly curiosity.

“And this is Pokey,” Emma introduces the dog, who’s already making friends with Luke, his laughter filling the air as Pokey nuzzles into him.

Emma leads us towards the Airbnb, explaining that her dad, Jack, is tied up with some chores but will meet with me later. “Just relax until then,” she suggests, a notion that seems entirely possible in this serene setting. “Let me show you to your room.”

The Airbnb building itself is a testament to rustic charm, its wooden exterior blending seamlessly with the natural beauty surrounding it. Inside, it's even more enchanting. The common spaces are thoughtfully designed, with cozy seating areas that invite guests to linger, share stories, or simply enjoy the tranquility. Exposed wooden beams and stone fireplaces add to the rustic vibe, while large windows flood the interior with natural light, offering views of the sprawling ranch.

As we make our way to the third floor, the wooden stairs creaking slightly under our steps, I can't help but be drawn in by the homely yet elegant decor. Luke and Pokey, now seemingly inseparable companions, follow behind, their playful antics a joyful backdrop to our tour.

Reaching our room, I'm greeted by the same rustic elegance that defines the entire building. It's spacious yet cozy, with handmade quilts on the beds and a window that looks out over the pastures. It feels welcoming, a home away from home, and I can feel the stress of city life beginning to melt away.

“Hope you find everything to your liking,” Emma says, leaving us to settle in. “Dad will catch up with you later. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”

Emma's on her way out, but she pauses at the door, a look of remembered concern crossing her face.

"Oh, before I forget," she starts, wincing a bit as if bracing for our reaction. "One of my brothers is staying in the Airbnb too. He's... well, he's, uh, a bit under the weather right now. So, if you see someone who looks particularly haggard roaming around, that's him. Just a heads up."

With that bit of interesting intel, Emma makes her exit, leaving Luke and me at the threshold of our new home-away-from-home.

I usher Luke into our room, a cozy retreat that feels worlds away from life back in Chicago. The space is perfect for us, with two plush beds covered in handmade quilts, a sitting area by the window that offers views of the sprawling ranch, and little touches that make the room feel welcoming—a stack of books on the nightstand, a small vase of wildflowers on the dresser.

"Look, Mommy, flowers!" Luke's little voice pulls me back, his tiny finger pointing at the vase on the dresser with delight.

"Yes, buddy, aren't they pretty?" I respond, my heart swelling with love for this little person who finds joy in the simplest things.

"And big bed for jumping!" he declares, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he eyes the nearest bed.

I laugh, the sound mingling with the light that filters through the window. "Maybe just a little jumping. But first, how about we explore a bit? There's a whole ranch out there waiting for us."

Right as we step out into the hallway, one of the doors down the hall creaks open, and out stumbles what I can only assume is the aforementioned brother. His voice is a low grumble, something about needing coffee or possibly the end of the world—honestly, it's a toss-up.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I steal a glance down the hallway, just in time to see him before he heads down the stairs and out of sight without noticing me.

Time slows, just a tad, as realization dawns— it's Shane .