Bud Flud may have had too much coffee and lost himself in that morning's disjointed thoughts. Would Kimbra want to stay in Alaska? Permanently? What if she didn't want to go back to St. Canard? Would she abandon him? Would she drop their relationship and leave him?
Stop. Don't you dare think like that.
But what if she wants to go back? Stay with you? Surely, she hadn't changed her mind yet again.
Right now, he depended on the latter.
Because if she hadn't, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. It wouldn't be good. Not one bit.
Having some semblance of a family ripped out of his grasp, slipping through his fingers like sand. It made his chest ache. It felt like that time Harrison told him that 'if he acted like that one more time, young man, you're never going to see that uncle of yours again.'
He couldn't lose Rufus, just like he couldn't lose Kimbra. Or Adam, no matter how annoying the Samoyed could get. Because as much as he would rather not admit it to himself, as scary as it was to admit it to himself… Bud genuinely liked the Wulfe family.
And if that wasn't a terrifying thought, Bud didn't know what was.
He felt like he only had one chance to make himself count. And even though that first chance, that Very First Chance and Impression had passed by in a blur that was that week- Bud was still scared.
Scared, because losing this family was as simple as a screw-up on his part. And his life had been nothing but screw-ups. Sometimes he felt like his father still controlled aspects of his life- the give and take of everything. Except he didn't… and Bud Bernard Flud really, really couldn't shake off the feeling.
Bud inhaled deeply, trying to get his mind in order (not that it's ever worked before).
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Just breathe. You know how to do that, right? Of course you do, it's your natural instinct to breathe, moron.
He tried his damnedest to shake the thoughts from his head. He did, truly he did. It's why he had made a sudden beeline for the bathroom. To pull himself together before they left. How embarrassing. He couldn't even say goodbye to a family he just met without being a baby about it.
Harrison was definitely right about you. You're an embarrassment who can't keep his emotions in check. Grow up, Flud.
Bud splashed his face with cold water, running his wet hands through his hair. Glanced up at the mirror at his reflection. Frowned. He was rather unimpressed with his own face, sometimes. It looked as miserable as he felt at that moment. The dark circles under his eyes, the lines that formed at the ends of his mouth.
He was tired. Physically and mentally.
The canine felt his eyes start to water. He blinked back the tears, willing them to not fall.
Jesus Christ.
He rested his elbows on the sink, and pressed his face into his hands.
For all intents and purposes, Bud Flud was a burden. He was a burden to his parents. All he had ever done was embarrass them and brought shame upon the family name. He was a burden to AJ and Colin. He had abandoned both of them for selfish reasons. And Colin suffered for it. He burdened Kimbra with his long list of issues. He didn't understand why she even bothered to stay. Why she expressed so much of her affection for him. Or why she did so much for him and had invited him to meet her family.
Worst of all, in his mind, he didn't give anything back.
"Are you ready to go?" A soft voice on the other side of the door startled Bud from his bubble of self-pity. He didn't want her seeing him like this. It'd only worry her, and he'd be even more of a burden than he already was.
Quickly, the hound turned the water off. Wiped his wet hands on his pants as he steadied his breathing. Pretending everything was fine, even if his girlfriend could see right through his facade.
He opened the door, seeing Kimbra standing there. Waiting patiently with her bags at her side. The morning light filtered through the window, surrounding her face in a golden-yellow film. Bud wished he was in the right mind to stand there and admire her in that instant. She reminded him of the sun. Bright and warm. Made his whole life a lot brighter than it had ever been.
"Yeah, I'm ready." Already she could hear a slight waver in his voice. She didn't comment on it.
Kimbra offered him a halfhearted smile and her hand. Bud graciously took her hand in his, feeling somewhat calmer by her touch.
It should be easier than this.
The twenty-minute car ride to Glacier Hills offered the four a chance to extend their goodbyes. Bud felt grateful that Kimbra had that extra time with her father and brother. Adam had already started planning what they would do when she returned. Mostly activities at his ski resort that sounded much too dangerous for any living being. Currently, he was trying to talk Kimbra into skiing off some cliff. Yeah, that's what he meant. A cliff. Who in their right mind skis off a cliff?
Adam, of course.
Bud had expected Loren to intervene, telling Adam all of his ideas were much too dangerous for the two. Shut down their little plan immediately. To Bud's displeasure, the author didn't. He only drove in silence, making a few comments here and there. As if nothing they were saying was wrong. That it all sounded safe enough for the older man.
Kimbra will be fine. Stop worrying so much. It probably isn't even a big cliff.
He worried more when the car approached Glacier Hills. When they pulled into the parking lot of the train station. He worried how Kimbra would react to leaving her family. She just seemed so happy there. Happy with them . Being here breathed a new life into the Samoyed. He knew deep down that St. Canard would grasp its unforgiving claws back into her. Pulling apart that life and bringing back the gloomy (and moody) scientist he had met back in May.
It was time for them to go. Something they both had been dreading.
Bud took a deep and shuddering breath as he stepped out of the car. The crisp and cold air filled his lungs. He knew they had to go. They had jobs in St. Canard. Responsibilities. A life. Bud had an entire company to run and workers to oversee. Kimbra had the project department to run. Projects to work on. A world to change for the better. But that didn't make it any easier.
"Bye Papa," Kimbra wrapped her arms around Loren's neck, giving him a tight hug. She was fairly shorter than her father, so the scientist had to stand on her tiptoes to do so.
Bud found it cute how small she was. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Loren hugged her back, honestly not ready to let her go again. "Let me know when you arrive back in St. Canard safely."
She let out a small huff, and pulled away to look at him. "Don't I always?"
"Most of the time, yes, you do."
Adam snorted from beside them. "Except that one time you didn't, and Pa called you for hours."
Kimbra shot her older brother a glare. "Hey, that was a one-time thing. I just happened to fall asleep once I got home. I was tired."
"I'd never do that to our dear old father. You know how up there in age he's getting. What if you give him a heart attack or something?"
She paused, mouth curled into a slight frown. "He's not that old, Adam."
"Uncle Winnie says he is."
Crossed her arms, and glared. "If Uncle Winnie told you to jump off a cliff, would you?"
Bud didn't know why Kimbra was trying to make a point. He knew it wouldn't work. Not with Adam. He'd only choose the answer that'd aggravate you the most.
"Probably. Mostly out of spite for him suggesting such a thing."
Kimbra rolled her eyes before punching the ski resort owner in the shoulder. Hard. It stirred up a loud argument between the two. Adam began his attempt of tossing her into a nearby snow pile. They acted like children.
Loren took it as an opportunity to bid Bud goodbye. "Goodbye, Bud. Pleasure to have met you." He said, turning to the younger man with a sincere smile.
"Pleasure is all mine." Bud held out a hand to shake the older Samoyed's, but instead, Loren wrapped him into a tight hug. Something the hound hadn't expected at all. He wasn't used to familial affection from any older male, apart from his Uncle Rufus.
Maybe it's because of your dad– Nope. Nope, not going there.
The CEO willed himself not to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut. No tears. Not today. Wallowing in self-pity never helped anything. It usually just made things worse.
"Look after my baby girl for me, okay?"
"Of course," He pushed down the somber feelings that threatened to arise.
Loren patted the hound's shoulder before letting him go. Focusing his attention back on his two bickering offspring. Kimbra had Adam in a headlock, threatening to choke him if he didn't let go of her leg.
Again, children.
Bud picked up his bags and waited patiently by the train. Watched as Loren broke up the fight, and as Kimbra said her final goodbyes to her father. He noticed how she lingered, trying to delay the inevitable as long as she could.
He didn't mind waiting for her. He'd wait forever for her if he had to.
"Quyaakamsii," Loren kissed his daughter's forehead before speaking in another language (Yupik was it?) that Bud didn't understand. He assumed the man was telling Kimbra goodbye.
Kimbra responded in the same language, giving her father a hug before hurrying back to Bud. She linked her arm through his, smiling up at him.
It made his heart squeeze with such a tender feeling.
"You better take care of my baby sister, water boy!" Adam called out, much too loudly, as the two boarded the train. He never knew how to use an inside voice, not that he particularly cared anyway.
Bud only gave him a mock salute. Baby deer, no more, instead, in its place now stood a full-fledged steer. The hound flipped his scarf over his shoulder. Accidentally hitting Kimbra with the end of it. Her nose wrinkled up in annoyance as she grabbed it, jerking Bud to her, so she could scold him.
And Adam had the hint of a smile on his face.
Bud had seen that expression over a thousand times by now.
Homesickness before leaving home.
He wore it himself when he had to leave Uncle Rufus' cabin. How he locked eyes with himself in the bathroom mirror, begging himself to ask to stay longer. It wasn't like Rufus would have said no.
"You don't want to go, do you?"
The hound's voice was gentle, his eyes nothing but pools of deep love for his Kimbra. He picked up a hand, lingering at her side, pressing a kiss to its palm. He saw how she looked out the window with mournful longing in her eyes.
"No… I don't, but I have to," she placed her hand over his and gently squeezed it. Bud caught the disappointment in her voice, and brought her hand further up to his muzzle, kissing the soft fur once more.
"You should stay, if you really want to." He sighed, gently brushed a purple curl off her face. "I don't want you coming back if it's just for me."
Kimbra gave him a weird look. "I always want to stay. But I go back anyway because of my job. I have plenty of reasons to go back to St. Canard, you just happen to be one of many."
It felt odd, hearing that from someone. He didn't feel worthy of those words.
"Me, huh? Guess you aren't coming back to much, then."
It was stated like a joke, but Kimbra knew how to pry open the cracks on that mask he wore.
"I'm coming back to plenty, Bud Flud. Don't you dare think otherwise." She shifted a little closer to him, putting a hand to his face and resting her thumb beneath his right eye. "You're everything to me."
He leaned into the warm hand with a sigh. "I still don't know what I did to deserve you."
You don't deserve her. You only bring misery upon others. You ruined your mother's life and career by being born. Embarrassed your father all those years, and now he's ashamed of you. You abandoned your younger brother for a selfish chance at a better life. You don't deserve the best thing that has ever happened to you.
Bud hated how his mind worked against him. Loathed it even.
The train whistle blew loudly, announcing their departure from Glacier Hills. It pulled away from the station with a jerk, the motion smoothing out as it picked up speed. Pale sunlight streamed in through the windows. Giving the interior a warm and soft, hazy appearance. Like something out of a photograph.
The ride itself was incredibly uneventful. They passed by mountains and miles upon miles of snow. The same beautiful view they had seen on their way to Glacier Hills.
Although he loathed the bitter cold, Bud felt somewhat saddened at leaving Alaska. Maybe it was sympathy on Kimbra's behalf (he did have a heart, after all).
He just hoped she didn't notice.
The hound shook his head lightly, willing the fogginess in his head and weight in his eyelids to go away. They had awoken much too early for this. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Napping during the train ride wasn't an option, as that meant he'd miss all the scenery. They didn't have that back in St. Canard, so he wanted to experience it while he still could. Soak it in, so he had something to look back on in the dark corners of his bleak office.
He relished the silence of Alaska. The peace. The bustle of traffic and people yelling profanities at one another didn't exist here. Maybe it had in other parts, but not Brittlesburg. Not Glacier Hills.
Why did he want this so much? Why did this all have such an effect on him? Why did Kimbra of all people make him feel this way?
"Are you going to miss Adam?" Kimbra gently teased, leaning over to rest her head against the hound's shoulder. Almost as if she could sense his sadness of parting from the state.
She also had a mischievous glint in her eye. The same one that Adam wore most of the time.
Bud rolled his eyes. "I have a whole year to miss him."
"No? He visits fairly often and stays with me for a week or two. Usually, every other month. I think he's flying down in May."
Oh, fantastic. More torment. Can't wait.
"That sounds… lovely. So glad he's visiting." Bud said, trying to at least sound somewhat excited about the news. A tiny crease between his brows formed. He tried to be honest, but that was never his best asset.
The glint in her blue eyes lingered. "You like Adam, don't you?"
Bud refused to acknowledge the teasing with a reply. Nope. Wasn't gonna do it. Closed his eyes. Willed his girlfriend to focus her attention on something else. Anything else but him.
But she didn't. Continued on to his disappointment. "You like Adammm." It came out in a sing-song manner.
He opened an eye and peered at the Samoyed. "You're being an instigator right now."
"I am not! I just want to know if my incredibly handsome and brilliant boyfriend likes my brother."
Incredibly handsome and brilliant, huh? No one ever called him that before.
Bud's mouth pressed into a flat line. He didn't want to answer her. Would rather lay on the railroad tracks and let the train run over him. Anything besides admit he was fond of Adam Arthur Wulfe. Which, truth be told, he very much was. Adam felt like a brother. An actual brother to him. They could do the things that Bud and Colin couldn't.
Bud's mind fully gravitated towards his little brother. How badly he missed him.
A memory, a somewhat fond one, washed through the canine's mind.
Bud giggled as he ran to the swing set with Colin, his one-year-old brother secure in his arms as they bounced along. Yellow galoshes splashed through puddles of muddy water, the sky gray and overcast with a coming snowstorm.
Fall was definitely his favorite season. Pumpkins, pretty leaves on the trees, hot chocolate and cozy blankets! And now that his brother was one, Bud could start swinging with him!
He'd been told to be careful, two words he brushed off as he pulled the little boy from his stroller. Because Bud Flud was always safe! What could go wrong?
"We're gonna go so high today, Col!" He giggled while sitting up on the swing, brother secure in his arms.
"MOMMY! MOMMY WATCH US LOOK!" He shouted as he looked towards a hound seated on the closest park bench, typing away on her phone. Colin let out a squeal and raised his hands with a "BAH!"
But not even that got her to look up. Bud huffed and rolled his eyes as he pushed off with his feet, pressing a kiss to Colin's forehead. "Oh well. We'll do cool stuff without her. Who needs mommies anyways?"
Colin looked up at Bud before making little baby noises, burrowing his face into his red coat he'd been dressed in.
"Not us! You're right." Bud nodded. He giggled as he pushed off, swinging low to test the waters while holding Colin. All was well. Bud swung them back, and forth, and back, and forth.
Colin began to shriek excitedly as they rose and fell again before pointing up.
"Up? You wanna go higher?! You're such a daredevil!" Bud laughed. "Oookay, but you gotta hold on tight!"
Bud swung back to the ground and touched his feet to the sodden mulch before pushing back up. They were flying, they were FLYING!
"WE'RE DOING IT COLIN, WE'RE FLYING!" He shrieked happily.
Suddenly, there was a great CREEEEAAAAK as something snapped and gave way. Bud gasped and put out his feet to land, pulling his brother close as he hit the ground, hard on his right ankle.
Colin was safe. That was all that mattered.
But Bud?
He'd never been able to hear people when he was asleep before.
The memory left his mind as quickly as it had entered. He couldn't help but wonder how Colin's Christmas had gone. If he had been forced to do that Christmas special he does every year. If their mother made him wear that itchy sweater for dinner with their friends.
He should have been here with you.
"Bud?" Kimbra, his Kimbra, rested a delicate hand on his arm, and the man immediately caved.
Bud opened his mouth. Nothing but a breath left at first, and he mumbled, trying to get his voice to work again. A grumble finally left his mouth, making him sound like an irritated old man. "I'm still mullin' it over."
Kimbra let out a content sigh as she felt his hand drift through her hair. "I'm actually really glad you do. I think he likes you for whatever reason."
The CEO raised an eyebrow. "You mean he likes to torment me."
"It's his love language." A nonchalant shrug. "It's just how he shows his affection."
"I don't think I want Adam to be in love with me."
"He's not–" Kimbra opened her mouth to explain, until she realized Bud had just been messing with her. Closed it and sat back to watch the train pass through a field of fireweeds. Her blue eyes focused on the window. Out in the white, foggy, void. Her expression remained calm. Peaceful.
Bud let out a soft gasp at the view. A large expanse of bright, pink flowers stretched to the ends of the towering mountains capped with snow, the heavy fall flooded with a light pink and orange from the morning sunlight creeping through the heavy gray clouds above.
Many of the flowers were dusted with a light powdering of snow; the early gray and yellow sunlight of the morning filtered through the petals to create an almost glowing, honey-like color that shone through the field.
He sat up straighter, still focused on the view. "It's pretty remarkable out here, isn't it?" His gaze then fixed intently on her, and he leaned further forward in his seat.
Kimbra let out a quiet hum in reply but said nothing else.
She wanted so badly to stay.
The plane ride back to St. Canard had been much more tolerable this time. He slept part of the time (it wasn't as if he were missing much), and the rest he spent reading the rest of Loren's book Nightingale, Whispers in the Dark. He wanted so bad to know how the series ended. Regretted not trying to pry it out of Loren. Maybe next year, as he knew damn well Kimbra wouldn't tell him.
Five hours of flying flew by fairly fast to Bud, and the next thing he knew, they had landed back in good ol' St. Canard.
It was crispy cold outside. Not as cold as Alaska, of course (something Bud was particularly thankful for). Biting wind stung his cheeks, and he wished to be back in the comfort of his own bed.
Bud had left his car there, and the two walked in silence through the airport. The two seemed to move in slow motion as the world rushed ahead, early travelers communing to their gates. Small, sleepy children clinging to their parents, most of which Bud would watch with sad eyes before turning away. The harsh, fluorescent lights broke through his sleepy, travel-induced haze enough to wake him up. He had plans to take Kimbra to a McDingo's on the way home, where he would inevitably buy a black coffee, complain about said coffee, and proceed to drink it at any rate.
He squeezed her hand gently, thumb brushing over and pressing down to feel her pulse.
It was nice. Steady. Their heartbeats mingled with the slow breathing of the canines as they steadily made their way to baggage claim, pulled off their bags, and exchanged a kiss before heading out the doors and to the long-term parking garage.
Up an elevator, a foggy haze haloed around the small lights buzzing on the frostbitten walls. Yellow, cutting through the darkness that blanketed over the deep hues of the night sky, the world wrapped in a blanket of peace. Not as breathtaking as Alaska, nothing held a candle to that place. But Bud had to admit St. Canard was beautiful, in its own way.
Not counting the dirty alleyways. Or all the garbage and rats. Or… cousin Morty.
That was mean Bud, you have got to do better. He's your family. One of the few good ones you have.
Being back in the city forced Bud to think about Colin again. Of course, the late show host was constantly on his mind. He barely ever left it. Bud's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Wished he had some way of contacting him without his parents knowing. Hoping he had at least a decent holiday (which he knew wasn't likely, but he had to hope for his own sake).
And yet, another memory clouded his mind. Sticking to it like glue on paper.
Soft crying filtered into Bud's dream. He groaned as he turned in bed and pulled the covers up above his head, hugging his stuffed manatee close. Mommy would go help Colin, right? He was so tiny, and he really liked to cuddle, so maybe that was why he was crying!
After a few moments of listening to Colin cry, Bud sat up with a sad huff. He didn't like it when his brother was sad. If their Mommy wasn't going to help, then it was up to him!
Bud crawled out of bed and dragged his big blanket with glowing stars on it, manatee in tow, and yawned as he padded to Colin's room that was just a few doors away.
Bud opened the door softly and 'awed' softly as he spotted his baby brother crying in his crib, his blanket strewn and fat tears falling down his chubby little cheeks as he 'wa-aed.'
"Don't cry Colin! I'm here now." It only took him but a moment to crawl up into Colin's crib, and Bud wrapped his blanket around both of them. Tucked them in and cuddled close to his brother.
Bud hummed a soft lullaby as he wiped the tears from Colin's cheeks, and smiled as his baby brother looked up at him with big brown eyes.
"See Colin? It's okay. Buddy is here and you're safe. Go back to sleep, baby brother. I love you."
Colin smiled as he shut his eyes, and a hand reached out to grab Bud's finger as he drifted off to sleep. The little hound stared at it in happy wonder before gingerly kissing Colin on the forehead, and fell asleep soon after.
The drive to Kimbra's apartment was spent in silence. Due to Bud being half asleep and Kimbra silently cursing at the city for having to return to it. Did she partially regret the choice to stay in St. Canard? Yes. Did she miss her father and brothers so bad that it physically hurt? Yes.
Did she want to move back to Alaska? Yes, she did. Not that she would ever tell Bud. Oh, no, she would never dare. He'd let guilt eat himself alive if he knew he was practically the main reason she chose to stay in the dump of a city.
She couldn't burden him with that knowledge.
Bud parked right outside of the GraStone Village apartment complex. The two sat in silence, not knowing what to say. Lucky for Bud, Kimbra spoke first. Breaking the awkward tension between them.
Her expression had fallen into a soft apology. "Thank you for coming to Alaska with me, I know it… wasn't the best trip. Considering the drinking…" It was as if she were struggling to find the words she wanted to say, for once.
Bud continued for her. "And me ditching you for Adam."
"And you ditching me for Adam." The Samoyed repeated with a sad smile. "I'm really sorry for how it turned out."
"Princess, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. That was one of the best Christmases I've had in a long time. I mean that."
She smiled bigger as she moved closer to him. "You mean that?"
"Yeah, I do. I mean it with my entire heart."
Their noses brushed as Kimbra leaned in for a kiss.
"I love you. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Pressed her snout gently against his. Used a hand to cup his face.
Bud wanted so badly to take her home with him. "Okay, and maybe we can have lunch or something this week. If you're available."
Another kiss.
"Of course, I'll let you know when I'm free."
"Sounds good," he squeezed her hand as she unbuckled with the other. "Bye Sunflower. I love you."
"I love you too."
I hope I never lose you.
Kimbra stepped out of the car with her bags, and waved goodbye to the hound. Bud watched as she stepped down the cement walkway and into the apartment complex lobby. Only until she was inside did the salesman pull out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. Headed home to Sunset Heights.
How long had it been since he last made this drive? Only a few weeks? It felt like forever.
A flush eventually creeped over Bud's features as he drove quietly. His mind deep in thought. His hand fumbled for the radio dial, desperate to rid himself of the silence. It only encouraged his overactive mind. He managed to find a station that played Elvis Presley, and his anxiety lessened as the man's voice poured out of the speakers.
'And I love you so
People ask me how
How I've lived 'til now
I tell them I don't know'
Bud's heart thumped a bit harder. It didn't help that his brain was torturing him. That's what this was, wasn't it? Torture. It is. Of course, it is. What else could it be?
'I guess they understand
How lonely life has been
But life began again
The day you took my hand'
All of a sudden, his heartbeat sounded deafeningly loud. It had to be something else. Anxiety about going back to work? No, of course not. He genuinely enjoyed his line of work. Had to be something else. His mind kept revolving around Kimbra. Like he was a kid who just had their first crush.
'And yes, I know how lonely life can be
When Shadows follow me and the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me'
Bud almost drove right by his own driveway, completely lost in thought. Of the last few weeks, well… months, actually. Meeting Kimbra. Their friendship and then relationship forming over time. Alaska. He couldn't stop thinking about all of it. About her.
A massive smile formed on the hound's face as he parked in front of his house. Finally, realizing what it had been all along. What had kept poking in the back of his mind. What had made his heart flutter nonstop.
She's the one.