by Sky Corgan
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I tease him.
“I'm still cold.” He rubs the sleep out of his eyes.
“Well, I can't afford to cuddle you today. The roof needs to be shoveled, and I'm sure you need to head back into town soon.” I try not to sigh. It seems like I'm pushing him out, but more than anything, I wish he would stay.
“I imagine you have to work a lot living like this.” He looks around the cabin, and for the first time, I feel like he's judging me. It should hurt, but it doesn't. The truth is, I take no pride in how I live. I hate it, so much so that I don't even care if someone else looks down on it.
“It's certainly no picnic.” I place my hand on my hip, wondering what I'm doing wasting my time talking to him. He needs to leave so I can get back to my miserable life. The longer he's here, the more I hate that I'm stuck here. “I'll get you some clothes, and you can be on your way.” I go to find some of my father's clothing that I think will fit him.
After I toss him some long johns, a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, gloves, a scarf, a hat, a heavy jacket, and a pair of some old work boots, I head back outside to start shoveling while he gets dressed. My father will surely mourn the loss of the garments, but he'll understand. Even though we're frugal, he wouldn't be opposed to knowing I gave away his belongings to help someone in need. That's part of the wilderness code we live by. Everyone helps each other, or no one survives.
About fifteen minutes later, Michael emerges from the cabin looking winter ready. He trudges through the snow a few feet before turning around and seeing me on the roof. It would be nice if he asked if he could help, but I'm not going to press for it. The guy has been through a lot, and this isn't the first time I've shoveled the roof by myself.
“What are you doing up there?” he asks.
“What does it look like I'm doing?” I toss a shovel full of snow over the side of the house.
“That looks miserable.”
“Someone's got to do it,” I sigh, wishing he'd just shut up and leave. “Taking off?” Maybe if I mention him leaving, he'll actually leave. The thought makes me feel both hopeful and sad.
“How far away is the village from here?”
“About three miles.” I point in the direction of the village.
He frowns, obviously thinking of the trek. I should probably offer to take him on the snowmobile, but I just have so much work to get done. All the slacking off I did yesterday didn't help me any.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” he says awkwardly.
“I guess so.” I don't even look at him as I continue with my shoveling.
“Thanks for everything. You're a lifesaver. You really are.”
When I don't respond, he starts walking towards the village. I'm not sure why I don't respond. Maybe because I feel bitter that he's leaving, and I'm not. Perhaps because I know I'll never see him again, so words I say now don't matter. One thing I do know though is that for as much as I wanted him to leave, it's killing me. There's no love between us. Attraction, maybe, but he's still a stranger to me. It's probably just the possibility of what could have been that's making me feel drained, depressed, and a bit emotional. He's the last fresh face I'll see in a very long time, I'm sure. Nothing ever changes around here. Especially me.
I put my back to him and listen to his boots crunch in the snow as he walks away. Every step brings me closer to breaking down. Usually, being busy helps to divert my negative thoughts. Not today though. Too much has happened. My world has been thrown off its axis, and it feels like its spinning out of control, even though I know it's really not. What's wrong with me?
Just work, Ferne. Everything will return to normal in a little while. Within an hour, it will be like he was never even here. You'll fall back into your routine like the well-oiled little machine you are. I imagine my gears rusting and breaking. Mechanical arthritis from too much repetition and not enough care. Years and years of repeating the same chores, living the same life, hoping for a change that will never come.
The sound of crunching grows louder, and I wipe my tears with the back of my sleeve before Michael gets the chance to sneak up on me. What does he want now? He couldn't have possibly left anything behind. He didn't bring anything. It takes a second for it to hit me that he's coming back to ask if I'll drive him to the village.
“No.” I turn, looking down at him as if his very presence offends me.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” I lie, blinking a few times to suck back more tears threatening to spill. “No, I can't take you to the village.”
“That's not what I came back for.” He quirks an eyebrow at me.
“What do you want then?” I don't have time for this. Dilly dallying never did anyone any good.
“Come with me.” He puts his weight all on one leg, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.
“What?” Surely, he doesn't mean what I think he does. It's probably a trick. A ploy to get me to drive him to the village.
“You made it seem like you wanted to leave. I'm giving you the opportunity.”
“You mean you want me to come with you to the village?” I try to make sure I'm understanding him.
“Yes. To the village. And beyond. Travel with me. Come adventure with me. It gets lonely doing it alone, and I have a feeling you're quite handy.”
I lean against the shovel, crossing my hands over the handle and resting my chin on top of them to stare at him. He's such a peculiar sight from this angle, standing there in my father's clothing. Even though we spent the night entwined in each other's arms, I have to remind myself that he's a stranger. It would be stupid of me to follow him. I know nothing about him. But still. Will I ever get this chance again? Probably not.
“You're only asking me because I saved your life,” I say, though I don't know why. That's pretty obvious. Why else would he truly want me to come with him?
“Yes,” he replies hesitantly. “And I think you're very pretty, and you don't have a husband or boyfriend. This may seem kind of selfish, but I'd like to get to know you better. And judging by the way that you checked out my equipment last night, I'm guessing you might want to get to know me better too,” his voice takes an absolutely adorable uncertain turn, but his words still make me blush like mad. I'll never forget being caught looking at him inappropriately for the rest of my life.
Completely speechless from his compliments and crude words, I bend down to make a snowball and pelt him with it. He cowers away but laughs.
“You'll never speak of that again,” I insist before climbing down off of the roof.
It's batshit crazy insane, but my decision has been made. I could shovel snow all day, or go with him. Stay here and continue the life of misery I've been living, or take a chance. Homesteading was my parents' idea of a good life, not mine. They'll never let me leave on my own. If I don't go with him now, I'll be stuck here forever.
“The snowmobile is in there.” I point to the shed before going inside to put out the fire, pack up a few things, write a note to my parents, and make sure everything is secured so that they don't return to find the place in shambles. A part of me feels guilty for leaving like this, but I can't afford to wait. Can't afford to let this opportunity slip from my grasp.
By the time I finish, Michael is already waiting outside the front door for me on the snowmobile. He could have easily taken off without me. The fact that he hasn't makes me think he might actually be sincere. I suppose only time will tell. There are still several places along the way he could ditch me. Then what? Who knows, but it's worth the risk.
I climb onto the snowmobile behind him and we take off towards the village. Even though I don't want to turn around and look back, I still do. Instead of my eyes landing on the cabin though, they zero in on the snowman. Perhaps the wish I made on the star did come true. Maybe there really was some magic in the moment that Martha and I shared yesterday.
I wrap my arms around Michael's waist and
clutch onto him tightly. Something hard pokes at my forearm, and my mind briefly falls into the gutter, though I know I'm not reaching down far enough to be molesting him. I grope at the object that seems to be jutting up out of the front of his pants and pull it free. He doesn't even shift his weight as I bring the thing back to look at it. A smile brighter than the sun splits my lips into the stupidest grin ever. In my hand is one freakishly long carrot.
Operation Resolution
SKY CORGAN
CHAPTER ONE
BELLA
“Are you really sure you want to go to this thing, Bella? You know it’s going to be a madhouse, don’t you? Like, the craziest night of the year? I almost never go out on New Year’s Eve. It’s when all of the amateurs come out to play.”
“The amateurs? You make it sound like you’re out drinking every day. I’m pretty sure we’re the amateurs, buddy.”
On the other end of the phone line, Maggie laughed sheepishly, which made me laugh in return. Maggie had been my best friend since our freshman year in college, and at twenty-four, it was a friendship that was still going strong. We had seen each other through illnesses, awful pseudo-boyfriends, family arguments, and less than desirable jobs. It was because we were such good friends that I had been able to talk Maggie into going out with me that night, arguably the craziest night of the year to go anywhere at all. I wasn’t a party monster by any stretch of the imagination, but on this particular New Year’s Eve, I had a good reason for doing so. Said good reason was about six feet tall with sandy blond hair and dimples when he grinned. Even thinking about Eli made me blush, and I was almost sure that Maggie would be able to hear it in my voice. The only question was whether or not she would call me out on it.
“Oh my God, this is totally about a guy, isn’t it?”
She called me on it. That was the thing about Maggie. She was the kind of girl people tended to write off as a hopeless romantic, and some of the time, that was precisely what she was, but at other times? Other times she was like this, like she was right now, which was shrewd as hell. That, combined with the fact that she had known me for like, forever, and there was no way my intentions for the evening were going to remain my own. Even if I wanted them to, which I wasn’t totally sure I did. Backup was never a bad thing, or at least not as far as I knew.
“Bella?” She said with her best foreboding voice, “Are you holding out on me? Have you been?”
“Um, maybe a little bit?”
“Spill it, then.”
“It’s really nothing, okay?”
“Nope. Not okay. If you want me to come to this thing tonight, you’re going to tell me why you really want to do it in the first place. I should have known there was something up! You never want to go out on New Year’s Eve!”
Again, she knew me too well. So I spilled it, spilled everything that I’d been storing up inside of me for the last couple of months. Eli was a trainer at my gym. He was, in fact, the reason I had decided to shell out the big bucks for a personal trainer in the first place. I wasn’t exactly what you would call in impeccable shape, but I wasn’t in bad shape either, nor were my finances such that I could afford to drop an extra four hundred dollars a month on exercise. When I’d walked into my neighborhood gym to sign up, however, it had been Eli who had processed my information, and by the time an hour had gone by, I had signed a contract for a year’s worth of one-on-one sessions with him. I had wanted to crawl under a rock and die afterward, smart enough to realize that nobody actually wound up in a relationship with her freaking trainer, but as the weeks had gone by, my mind had started to waver on that point. I was pretty sure that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for a trainer to flirt with one of his clients, but the way Eli had been flirting with me seemed like more than basic flirtation. When during our last session, he had invited me to a friend of his’ New Year’s Eve party, my hesitation was almost gone. There was something there, and I wanted to see what it was. I wanted to see badly enough that I convinced Maggie and poured my five foot six frame into a little black cocktail dress that was tight enough I was iffy on my ability to breath. A short cab ride to retrieve my bestie and the two of us were in the middle of a warehouse party, unlike anything I had ever been to. Up to this point, I had been too driven to get there to give much thought to what the party itself would be like, which was a blessing. Now that we were actually there, though, panic was starting to creep into my blood. The people at this party were way, way more hip than I was, hipper than I had ever been in my life. If this was the kind of girl Eli thought I was, he was most definitely in for a disappointing surprise.
“Um, Bella?”
“What? This is great, right? I’ve never been to a party like this.”
“Yeah,” Maggie said uncertaintly, pushing her wire-rimmed glasses up her freckled nose and looking around doubtfully, “me neither. Isn’t that kind of a good thing, though?”
“Aw, come on! You don’t really hate it, do you? You do. You hate everything about this.”
Maggie shrugged her shoulders and gave me a look I was sure was supposed to be comforting. Suffice it to say, it was not that. Looking around at the immense crowd of people and the gritty, borderline dirty building itself, my stomach sank. I couldn’t exactly argue with her if she said she wanted to leave. In my head, I’d pictured a warm apartment with a smattering of people. Eli would greet us at the door and be so charming that Maggie would give me her blessing right there on the spot. He would sweep me off my feet, and the two of us would embark on a relationship right then and there. Instead, I was in a massive building made of corrugated tin, full of people in dayglo colors, sporting extreme levels of intoxication. Basically, it looked like a borderline rave, and any hope I had of finding Eli was fading fast.
“Do you really think you’ll be able to find him in here?” Maggie strained to make herself heard over the roar of our fellow partiers, “This place is a madhouse!”
“I’m not sure. I hope so.”
“If you do, you better make it count!”
“What do you mean, make it count?”
“I mean, you better have your way with him, start the romance flowing! I didn’t come all of this way to have you strikeout.”
“Maggie! I wouldn’t just leave you alone here. We’re just here to see him, that’s all.”
“No way. Ideal scenario, you take him home and make sure he never wants to be with another woman, and I get to go home to my DVR. Win-win.”
My whole face burned bright red, and I was about to tell her to talk a little more quietly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I whirled around, somehow sure one of the hipster partiers had realized that I was in no way cool enough to be at the party in the first place. When I saw Eli standing in front of me, his brown eyes warm and full of mischief, all words died on my tongue. His hair was expertly disheveled, and despite the chilly weather, he was wearing a tight, short-sleeved t-shirt that showed off every single one of his muscles. Behind me, Maggie half-coughed, half-laughed, and I knew she was having a field day with my embarrassment. I couldn’t even do anything about it, either, because any hope of intelligent speech had left me as soon as Eli and I had made eye contact.
“Bella! You made it!”
“Um, yeah, I guess I did.”
“Right on! And what about your friend?”
“My friend?”
“Her best friend,” Maggie interjected, stepping up next to me and jabbing me in the ribs covertly as she did so, “Maggie Wells. Nice to meet you.”
“Cool,” he answered, shaking her hand vigorously with a slightly lopsided grin, “glad you two made it. You know, Maggie, I have a friend here somewhere who would love you, I think. Hold tight, and I’ll go and find him, okay? The four of us will make a real night of it.”
“You know what? I was actually just telling Bella that I have a pretty massive headache.”
“No shit?”
“Um, yes shit. It just kind of crept up on me, you know? I didn’t want to mak
e her leave the party, and I didn’t want to leave her on her own, but now that she’s got you to entertain her, I think I’ll go ahead and make my exit.”
“Are you sure, Maggie?” I asked through gritted teeth, my eyes wide and trying in vain to get across the message that I was in no way ready for her to go. This whole thing had been my idea, but now that it was a reality, I was terrified of being left alone with Eli. If these were his kind of people, there was no way he could be attracted to me! He probably wished he’d never invited me in the first place.
"Yeah, Maggs," Eli asked light-heartedly, missing the brief frown that crossed her face with his use of a nickname he didn't know her nearly well enough to use, "because my friend really would love you. He's always dug redheads."
“Yeah, I’m sure. My couch and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s are calling my name. Although I probably shouldn’t tell you that, seeing as you’re a personal trainer and all.”
“Hey, we can’t all make those tough decisions, can we?”
“No,” she frowned again, raising her eyebrows in a gesture that made it clear she had some serious questions about my judgment, “I guess we can’t. Take care of my girl, okay? Unless you want to come with me, Bella.”
Both Maggie and Eli looked at me, and I was overcome with the sensation of having been thrust inside of a cartoon where I had a devil perched on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Eli didn’t seem to notice, either that or didn’t care, but I could tell that Maggie was less than impressed with my choice. That wasn’t exactly an anomaly, either. She was a hopeless romantic, but that didn’t mean her standards weren’t high, and often times, higher than mine. On the other hand, she didn’t know Eli like I did. She hadn’t been working side by side with him in the sweaty, steamy gym, looking at the way the veins in his biceps popped out.
His hand wrapped around my waist and moved down to my ass, cupping it firmly, and I shivered. Maggie might have had the right idea, who knew, but those strong, probing fingers were too yummy to ignore. I was a goner, and I told Maggie firmly that I wasn’t going anywhere. My head buzzed with the possibilities of where this evening might take me, and in no time flat, it was buzzing with champagne and tequila shots, too.
