by Diann Hunt
“So, Russ, do you have any children?” Why did I ask that? I need to keep this on a friendship level. Nothing personal.
He shakes his head. “Timing was never right. All the military moves. You know how it is. How about you? Did you and Eddie have any children?”
I shake my head. “We lost one. Never had any after that.” We take a few steps. “’Course, you probably know Linda and Eddie have a daughter.”
“Yeah, I saw Linda and her little girl at the grocery together when I first moved to town.”
While we work our way through the trees, pouring the sap from the bags into gathering pails, we talk a little bit about the military, his parents, and his dental business.
“You don’t mind settling down in Tappery?” The air is filled with the hum of people talking, sharp footsteps thumping against the hard ground, liquid pouring into buckets. Lifting a heavy bag of sap from the tree, I bend over to dump it in the bucket.
Russ laughs. A deep, rich laugh, masculine and strong. “You find it hard to believe that anyone would willingly do that?”
With a shrug I say, “Just figured since you traveled with the military, you’d probably want a more exciting place to live, that’s all.”
He looks around at the trees and takes a deep breath. “Actually, it doesn’t get much better than this.” Then he turns to me and smiles, making my heart skip a beat. “In fact, I was kind of hoping you could help me come up with a floor plan for a new house.”
With curiosity, I look at him. “You’re thinking of building?”
“Yeah.”
“How fun.” Excitement always rushes through me when I think of building a home. Though I sell mostly commercial property now, I’ve always thought it would be fun to help people build homes. “Well, I’m not an expert, but I’d be happy to give you some ideas.”
“Great. Janni told me you like to make sketches of floor plans, so I thought maybe you could come up with some sketches for me, and we can go over them together.”
Something about the way he says “together” causes my heart to flutter.
“Sure. You’ll need to give me a list of what you want in a home, and we can go from there.” I lift a plastic bag off the next tree and prepare to dump it into the bucket.
“Listen, Charley, I wanted to get alone with you this morning because—”
His lips keep moving, but suddenly I can’t hear a thing. It’s like watching an episode of Mr. Ed on TV without sound. I just can’t get past the I-wanted-to-get-alone-with-you thing. Russ’s big, strong hands move about as he explains whatever it is he’s explaining.
“Charley? Look out!”
The sharp tone of his voice brings me back to my senses, and I look down to see that I’ve missed the bucket and dumped the sap all over my Nikes.
Instead of moving into action, I stand there as though I’m in a den-tist’s office sucking novocaine. By the time I remember to move my feet, I’ve formed roots. The sap holds me firmly in place. As in, just stick a spile in my mouth and hang a plastic bag.
People around me smother laughs. The kids say, “Ew,” which helps immensely.
“Are you all right?” Russ asks, pulling on my arm to help me move. A schlepping sound akin to the sucking of a plunger ensues, and with each step I attempt to take, Russ has to pluck my foot off the ground to keep me moving. That’s one way to slow me down.
Every leaf within a three-mile radius attaches itself to my shoes. I’m a leaf vacuum without the vacuum part. If I ran a few laps through the woods, this place would shine like the picnic area of a state park.
Suddenly the image of how I must look hits me in full force. I’m picturing Babes in Toyland with the talking trees. I start laughing—so hard that I can’t move. I just wobble. Like Humpty Dumpty—with hair. That thought alone sets me into another fit of laughter. Maybe it’s the stress of the visit. Maybe it’s seeing Gail, Linda, and Russ. Maybe it’s the sap, or just that I’m worried about sprouting leaves, or that if I stick out my arms, birds will build nests. All I know is humiliation and me go together like pancakes and syrup.
And I’m laughing, why?
Blake turns and points to me. He starts laughing and soon Russ and the other kids join in a full-scale heehaw. In no time at all, the whole woods are alive with laughter.
When it finally dies down, Janni says, “I’ll go up to the house and bring out some warm water to pour over your feet and pants so you can get them off.”
With a fading chuckle, I nod. Then Russ and I walk toward the house in silence. Well, all except for the schlepping sound.
“Listen, this probably isn’t the right time, but I may never get you to hold still long enough any other time.”
I want to stop and stare at him, but I’m afraid I’ll become a habitat for Chip and Dale—I’m talking chipmunks here, just so you know.
“I’m going nowhere fast this time.” My voice has a half-tease, half-growl to it. I glance at the trail of footprints I’ve left behind. With every step my shoes have ripped bits of grass up by the roots.
“Did you hear me?”
I blink. “What? Oh, sorry, no. It’s the sap and everything—” I lift a foot for emphasis and sap drips from the edges of my shoe.
Frustration flickers on his face. Who can blame him? “What I was saying, well, I’m sorry about you and Eddie and Linda, all that—”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Not the most impressive vocabulary lineup, but there it is.
“Okay, the water is out in the tub. Just a few more yards, Char, and you’ll make it,” Janni says, as though I’m trying to swim the English Channel. She steps to the other side of me and, noticing our silence, says, “Am I interrupting something?”
Russ blows out a sigh and obviously gives up on the meaningful conversation. But I mean, honestly, how deep can we get at a time like this?
He lifts a slight smile. “No, that’s all right,” he says. Then he turns and whispers to me. “Maybe if I get lucky, you’ll be my partner this afternoon.”
I’ll admit Russ is handsome and charming, but I’m not interested in a relationship. If that’s his goal, he’s barking up the wrong tree.
With the extra help, we are able to get down to the Sugar Shack in record time.
Russ and the boys chop firewood to keep the heat under the evaporator going. That’s the highlight for me. I love the smell of burning wood. To this day the crackle and scent of burning wood makes me want to curl up in a corner with a good book—or eat pancakes.
Janni turns to Stephanie and Candy. “My job is to make sure the sap doesn’t scorch or overflow. As you can see, it runs from this preheater pan down through the maze of the evaporator.” Together we watch the sap slowly filling the main evaporator. “Once it’s hot enough, it will flow into the lower evaporator pan, where it stays until it reaches the proper density.”
“That’s where I come in,” I say. “I then check the thermometer to make sure it reaches seven degrees above boiling and test the density with the hydrometer.” I lift the fragile glass tube so they can see what it looks like. “Once it’s ready, I open the spigot so it falls into the bucket.” I show them the spigot.
“Then Char and I both pour the syrup from the bucket into cone filters that are in this bigger tub where the sugar sand, niter, or calcium deposits—whatever you want to call it—are removed. Then the syrup is pumped into a finishing pan that is fired with propane gas.” Janni turns to me. “Hopefully, we’ll have some help with this part after today, so we can keep our minds focused on one task.”
“Right. Once the syrup is in the finishing pan, you take over,” I say to Candy and Stephanie with a smile. “You’ll add the filter aid at this point. The syrup will boil a little more. Then it will go through the pump via the filter press for final filtering.”
“This is where the filter aid is sifted out,” Janni says.
Daniel walks up behind us. “Then the syrup is pumped into the syrup holding tank in the canning room. It drops into the can
ning tank, where it’s heated to 190 degrees for bottling, and pours out of the spigot into a bottle. And that’s it.” He grins.
“Wow, I had no idea so much went into the syrup process,” Stephanie says. “No wonder my dad always bought the imitation stuff. He said it was cheaper.”
“Cheaper, but there’s no comparison in taste,” Janni pipes up.
“It’s worth every bit of the effort,” I say, smacking my lips together.
“We’re not doing all that tonight, though,” Daniel says. Once it goes through the evaporator, we’ll shut down things and start with the filtering process tomorrow. We have more people coming to help then.”
“Great. We’ll be done soon, and then we’ll go up to the house to start dinner preparations,” Janni announces. “You kids want to join us?”
“Candy and I are going to head over for pizza,” Ethan says, giving Candy a sideways hug. “You guys can come along, if you want,” he says to Blake and Stephanie.
Blake turns to Stephanie, who shakes her head. “You guys go on. I’m going to finish up here.”
“You don’t need to stay, Stephanie. You’ve done your part,” Janni encourages.
Stephanie looks from Janni and Daniel back to the kids and finally shrugs. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Janni smiles and waves as the kids leave.
“You have to stay, Russ. You’ve earned it,” Daniel says with a playful punch at his friend’s arm.
And they keep throwing us together, why? Daniel just doesn’t get it.
Russ’s gaze flits to me. For some reason, I look at the floor. Yeah, that’s me. Miss Confidence comes to Tappery, and she’s reduced to staring at the floor.
“Sure, I’d love to stay.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Daniel says, causing me to hold my breath. “Why don’t we go to the Tappery Grill for dinner?”
Janni claps her hands as though she’s just been told by Mr. Dentist that she is cavity-free.
Russ looks at me. A smile starts at his mouth and soon flickers in his eyes, causing my stomach to flutter. The thought of running occurs to me, but even a Prada sale couldn’t motivate these weak knees right now.
nine
“I don’t know why you get so nervous around Russ.” Janni walks over to her dresser, lifts a comb and starts teasing her hair.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
“Otherwise, why would you be eating those cookies before dinner?” Janni’s hair is now three times its normal size. One stiff wind, and we’re liable to find her in Wisconsin.
“Well, if you’ll glance at your watch, you will see that it is way past dinner. Besides, there are only a couple of crumbs left.”
She sighs, still teasing her hair. “It took longer to do the sap than I thought it would. Oh well, at least the restaurant stays open until eleven o’clock.”
She drops her hands, and her hair is sticking straight up in every direction. It’s scary, really.
“You’re nervous.”
“That too,” I say, munching through another hunk of sugar.
“For goodness sakes, Char, he’s just a friend. Why are you so upset about all this?”
“Could be your hair, but I’m not sure,” I warble with a full mouth behind my hand. I have some manners, after all.
“What?”
“I’m not upset. I’m fine.” I root through my bag in search of more crumbs.
“I’d love to believe you, but your behavior suggests otherwise.”
I stop rooting long enough to look up at her. “So what’s your point?” Lifting the bag, I tilt it over my open mouth and let the crumbs fall.
After spraying her hair in place, Janni turns and gives me a hard stare. “How do you stay so thin eating like that?”
“Whoa, sis, unless you want to be enshrined in the Basketball Hall of Fame, you’d better tone that hair down.”
Her hands reach up and touch it. “That bad?” She turns back to the mirror.
“Think basketball on steroids.”
“Thanks. Aren’t you going to get ready?” she asks, clearly wanting me out of her, um, hair.
“I’m going, I’m going. Besides, I’m out of cookies. Need to make another run to the Lighthouse Bakery.”
“As I said, pathetic.”
I shuffle out of her room, and once I’m out of reach, I holler, “Pathetic, but I have normal hair.” A cookie fetish, yes. Bad hair, no.
The restaurant is located east of town in an area that’s just starting to build up. A couple more buildings are midway through the construction process, with signs that say a plaza of some sort will be coming soon. Might be a good place for the Scottenses’ store. As we make our way to the table, I claw my Palm Pilot out of my bag and scratch out a note to check into the land.
“This is great, thank you,” Janni says as the hostess leads us to a large table in a back room where some of Daniel and Janni’s friends are already waiting on us.
One glance at the flickering candles on the white linen tablecloths, and I feel as though I’m back in Maine where life is good and little thought is given to the cost of fine dining. I must say I’m surprised Daniel was willing to come here. He must have a coupon or something.
Russ pulls up a chair beside me. “Okay if I join you?”
He seats himself before I can answer, and I smile.
Over stuffed chicken, sautéed vegetables, chocolate mousse, and dark gourmet coffee as soft as velvet, Russ and I discuss our occupations and his life in the military. Not only am I attracted to him, but also by the time the evening is over, it occurs to me that it can’t hurt to be seen on the arm of such a fine dentist while I’m in town. He’s highly respected, after all, and it might give me a little leverage if I find the right land to dicker over. When I get ready to go home, there’s no harm done. Just two old friends going their separate ways.
“Do you remember the time I helped you with your homework, and Eddie thought I was moving in on his territory?” Russ asks the question in total innocence, not realizing he’s stirring loose the dust of old memories better left forgotten.
“Uh, I’m not sure I do.”
“Oh, now that I think of it, maybe you didn’t know.” He takes a small bite of roll, chews, and swallows. Then he snaps his finger. “That’s right. He approached me after school one day and told me to stay away from you.”
I gasp. “He did? What did you do?”
“I told him it would take somebody bigger than him to keep me away from you.” Russ grins, and my heart lodges smack-dab in the middle of my esophagus, allowing no air to pass whatsoever.
“Eddie was a pretty big guy. He could throw his weight around.” I’m stunned that Russ would take him on. He could take him now, no doubt about it, but back then he wasn’t all that meaty.
Russ laughs. “He’d have killed me, sure as I’m sitting here. But I wasn’t going to let him bully me into staying away from you.” Here he turns to me and looks me square in the eyes. “I liked you too much for that.”
His words make my face hot. Eddie’s face flashes before me. Russ’s smile torments my peace of mind. The room suddenly feels small, stifling. I can’t breathe.
“You okay?” Russ asks, concern in his eyes.
I claw at my jacket, and he helps me pull it off.
“You’re burning up. You all right?” Now panic lines his face.
Grabbing my glass of ice water, I gulp it down. The meal is over, why torture myself? I turn to Janni, “If you’ll pay for my meal, I’ll pay you when you get home,” I say.
“Are you all right? Your face is red.” Janni looks worried.
“I’ll be fine. I just want to go back to your place.”
She nods.
I turn to Russ. “I’m sorry, Russ. I don’t feel so well. I’m going back to Janni’s. It was nice to see you again.”
“Can I drive you home?”
I muster a smile. “I’m thinking Seafoam, Maine, is a little too far of a drive. See you later.”<
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What has gotten into me? Sure, coming here brings back painful memories, but for crying out loud, I’ve been divorced forever. I’m not in love with Eddie anymore, so what’s with me?
Shoving the car gear into park, I haul myself out and see lights on in the house. Mom’s already there. I’m not in the mood to face her right now, so I grab the sketch pad from my seat and head for the barn.
The night air is cold, which is a good thing. I’m so hot my body could generate enough heat to bake cookies. Once I’m in the hayloft, I pull off my scarf and unbutton my coat.
Settling into the straw, I try to figure this out. A kitten finds her way up to me and curls around my feet, meowing here and there. Wonder if she’s hungry? Before I can get up, she climbs on my lap and falls into a heap. I smile in spite of my mood.
“Oh, to have your uncomplicated life.”
My head leans back against the wall. If only I hadn’t agreed to come. But I wanted to show them that I’ve changed. Unfortunately, so far I’ve only managed to make matters worse and prove what an idiot I am. I’ll see the syrup season and the party through, but once I get back home, I’m staying there.
I want to talk to the Lord about it, but I don’t know what to say any-more. My face begins to cool, and I start feeling better. Reaching for my sketch pad, I bend my legs so I can prop it up against my knees and not bother the kitten. After grabbing a pencil from my handbag, I turn to a blank page and set to work.
Let’s see, the Parnell family from my church in Maine is looking for a Cape Cod home. I’m not their Realtor, but it doesn’t hurt to sketch something out for them. They’re a family of four, so four bedrooms allow for a guestroom. Working my pencil feverishly against the paper, I sketch out upstairs bedrooms and baths, dormer windows, a living/dining area combo on the main level, and a kitchen. I decide a guestroom might be nice tucked into a corner on the main level to give guests easy access in and out and still give the family privacy. To me, finding the right home is as important as picking a spouse—for those who are looking for one, anyway. After all, it’s where people spend the majority of their time outside of work. It should be a happy place.
