by Jody Holford
“Niece and nephew,” he said, using his beer bottle to gesture to the pictures.
“Very sweet. Let me guess: he’s three and she’s eight?” Glancing at him, she realized that he hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes. He suited the dark jeans and casually dressy, plaid shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms with dark hair. His hands were wide and capable looking. She imagined those hands would be very capable at a number of things. Just an observation, she assured herself. She imagined that he looked equally impressive in his job site clothing.
“That’s pretty good. Nick is four but you’re on the money with Brianna. She’s in second grade,” he replied.
“Teacher senses,” she laughed.
“You like teaching?”
“I love it. I’ve never wanted to do anything else. I used to line my dolls up and take the attendance.”
“Brianna does that,” he smiled at her sweetly. The warmth she felt inside was from the way his voice sounded when he spoke of his niece and nephew. Not the way he smiled or how his hair curled up slightly at his shirt collar.
“You’re obviously close to them.”
“My whole family is close. Too close,” he smiled, taking a long swallow of his beer. She moved and began to gather her things. It was almost eerie how much the layout of their homes resembled each other. It was like being in her house with the wrong furniture.
“I know that feeling,” she murmured.
“Yes, but most of the time I’m okay with it.” He was perceptive.
“I think I’m going to be a lot more okay with it from a distance,” she smiled shrugging on her jacket knowing that without it, even the short distance home would chill her to the bone.
“Sometimes it’s easier. Don’t go,” he said, putting his beer on the coffee table.
“I have more boxes to unpack and you haven’t had a chance to unwind from work,” she answered.
“True. This has been very stressful,” he gestured to the empty pizza box and beer. She tilted her head and smiled but walked to the door anyway. Saying goodnight, she moved carefully down his steps, aware that he was watching her. She waved before letting herself in and closed her own door feeling a bit surprised with how enjoyable the evening had been.
“It’s okay to make new friends,” she told herself, hanging up her jacket. “In fact, that’s exactly what you came to do. Start a life of your own.”
Feeling good, she went to see how much of a dent she could make with those shoe boxes.
Chapter Three
“Wow! This is huge,” Anna gasped, looking around the classroom that would be hers after the Christmas break. There was only one elementary school in Angel Lake, Minnesota and Anna had been thrilled when she’d gotten the second grade position.
“Mrs. Cameron has her class in the gym right now. Her retirement starts at Christmas break. Been here 21 years,” Mr. Smith told her for the third time during the tour.
“That’s lovely.”
“Yes. It’s nice for the kids and the community to have that kind of long term consistency. You don’t have family here. Yet, you plan to stay long term?”
“Yes,” she assured him, again, with a smile. She always wondered why men that were balding allowed the two sides to keep growing. Did they hope it would somehow travel back up and meet in the middle? She thought it’d be better if Mr. Smith just shaved the tiny tufts on each side and accepted the fact that his days of hair were over. She made a mental note to tell her dad or Kyle to just face baldness if the time ever came.
“Do you have any questions?” he asked, pulling at the knot on his tie.
“Would it be alright if I moved some of my things in over the break?”
“Of course. School is out on the 18th. I’ll be here on the 19th if you want to bring it in then. Would that work?” he asked, pulling out his phone and pressing the screen. She rooted around in her purse to find her phone to plug the date into her calendar.
“Yes, that’s perfect.” she said, as a class followed their teacher, a woman who looked to be Anna’s age, silently down the hall with their fingers to their lips. Anna watched as the boy at the end of the line reached out to tug at the ponytail of the girl in front of him just as she turned around. She gave him the obviously well-practiced “teacher look” that contrary to popular belief, was not taught in college, and he shrugged innocently. The teacher whispered something to her class and came across the hall. With dark hair framing her round face and retro style glasses, she reminded Anna of one of her own primary teachers.
“This is Mrs. Kelly. Kelly, this is Anna Meyers. She’ll be taking over for Linda after the holidays,” Mr. Smith introduced. Anna grasped the woman’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kelly.”
“Kelly.”
“Pardon?”
She smiled brightly. “My name is Kelly. Kelly Kelly.” She pumped Anna’s hand. Anna looked back and forth between Mr. Smith and Mrs. Kelly, waiting for one of them to say, “Gotcha.”
“It’s alright. Always throws people the first time. Was Kelly Jacobson when I met my husband. I thought of keeping my own name but Bruce is traditional and he didn’t like that idea too much at all,” Kelly Kelly shared. Anna’s eyes widened at the stream of information. The kids were beginning to whisper in their line.
“Well, it’s certainly unique,” Anna answered, finding her voice.
“Thank you. That’s one way of putting it, isn’t it?” she glanced back at her class, her bubbly smile turning to a frown. “Timothy, you know better than to be talking in the hall.”
“I shouldn’t keep you from your class,” Anna apologized. Mr. Smith went to stand beside Timothy.
“They’re fine. A good bunch really. You’ll have some of them next year as I teach first grade. Have you taught second grade before?” She carried on as though the principal wasn’t watching her class and she had nowhere else to be at the moment.
“I have. I’m really looking forward to starting here.”
“Well, I should get them to the library. We have potluck lunches on Thursdays and a few of us have a book club once a month if you’re interested. We’re reading a James Patterson next month.”
“That’s sounds…great,” Anna replied. Mr. Smith said something quietly to the class before coming back to join her, which prompted Mrs. Kelly Kelly to wave goodbye and return to her class.
Mr. Smith chuckled, glancing over at the other teacher. “Kelly’s head of our social committee.”
“That doesn’t really surprise me,” Anna laughed. “Thank you again for taking the time to show me around today.”
“My pleasure. I’m sorry I can’t introduce you to more of the staff. If you’d like to stay for the lunch hour, I’d be happy to do so,” he returned. He ran his hand over the bald strip on his head and smiled at her. When he smiled, Anna thought that he’d likely been attractive once upon a time.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m still getting settled. I’m excited to meet them in the New Year, though.”
He walked her to her car and thanked her again for accepting the position as though she’d done them a favor. Giving her aging Honda Civic some time to warm up, she thought about her conversation with her father after accepting the job.
“Why did you do this, Anna? You should be working alongside us. Your brother and I like having you close by and you know there’s a place for you in the company. Always.” He complained from behind his massive mahogany desk.
She braced herself, ready to give a speech she knew by heart. “I understand that but as I’ve told you, and Kyle, before, I love teaching and it’s what I want to do. I didn’t go to school so that I could spend my time in an office.”
“Fine. But why Minnesota?” Pushing away from his desk, he all but stomped to the antique drink cart. He poured each of them a glass of water, setting the silver pitcher down with a bang.
“You know why.” She got up from the stiff-backed couch to walk over to him. He han
ded her the water and took a large swallow of his own.
“Your mom was happy to get out of that town and now you’re giving up everything to live there,” he said. She’d put her hand on his arm, rubbing it along his suit jacket.
“I can’t explain it any more than I have. I love you and I know you just want me to be close by but I’m not happy here. When Kyle said her old house was for sale, it felt like a sign,” she said.
“I should fire him for bringing it up.”
“Daddy.” She smiled, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his lean frame. He’d only ever wanted the best for her, but he suffocated her by thinking he knew what it was that was best for his little girl.
He sighed. “I’m going to miss you.” Putting his glass down, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Good. Then you’ll visit. I’m going to fix up the house. I’m really excited.” She leaned back to look at green eyes that matched hers perfectly.
“We’ll come for Christmas. Kyle’s looking up some contractors to go and have a look at the house.”
She stepped back. “Don’t you dare.”.
“Anna—"
“No. You and Kyle think I need you to do everything. I don’t. I want to do this on my own. I want to live in a small town, teach in a small town, and fix up my own damn house.” She set her glass down with a bang.
“Mind your language.”
She laughed, unable to stay mad at him. “I’m 26, dad. I’m a real grown-up. You have to accept that.” She took her purse from the coat stand and walked back to him, placing a kiss on his handsomely weathered face.
“Fine.” His tone was petulant but conceding. “But if anything goes wrong, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” He’d run his hands through his salt and pepper hair and paced back and forth. His natural inclination to worry had increased ten-fold when her mom had gotten sick and he couldn’t fix it. She’d been so young when her mom died that she didn’t remember her father being any other way. They’d been through this before and she knew she’d just have to show him that she’d be okay. As she reached the door, he said her name.
“You’re stubborn like her.” A sad smile haunted his face.
“You said she was brave,” she’d reminded him.
“She was that too.”
The memory made her eyes mist. She missed Kyle and her dad but when they arrived in a month, they’d see she was making out just fine. They’d see that she wasn’t just stubborn like her mom, who she barely remembered, but brave too. Pulling out of the parking lot, she decided that she’d more than earned her Christmas tree.
As Sam drove home, later than he’d intended, he turned the music loud enough to drown out the pounding in his head. His newest client was a great guy. He’d actually gone to school with him, but Joel had been a couple years ahead of him. He could deal with Joel. His fiancée, however, made him want to scratch his eyes out with Popsicle sticks. She changed every decision she made- usually about a day after he’d gotten to work on her last idea. Sam had learned that he had a limit for what he’d do for a woman. He didn’t care what Joel got out of the deal, it couldn’t be worth putting up with CeeCee.
“Says the loser lying about having a girlfriend to stay friends with a girl,” he muttered into the music.
Traffic was slowing down but he couldn’t see far enough ahead to see why. Angel Lake didn’t often have traffic jams but Sam was too exhausted to care. Driving slowly, he could see that many homes and yards were decked out with Christmas lights. His mom had reminded him that not everyone was a Scrooge. He wasn’t; he just didn’t see wasting the energy when he wasn’t hosting his family. Why set up and, worse, clean up if he didn’t have to? As he watched the white landscape roll past achingly slow, he noticed a red Honda Civic pulled over on the side of the road. It looked suspiciously like Anna’s car and concern immediately had him looking around to see if she was in or out of the car.
It was damn cold out so he hoped she was in it. He edged out of the standstill, parked behind her car with nerves unsettling his stomach. It was getting dark so he grabbed a flashlight from the backseat of his truck. Swearing, he put on his hazards because his truck was a far sight bigger than her car and he’d probably get rear ended. She’d pulled over near an embankment that led to a tree covered area that was attached to a local farmer’s property. Maybe she’d gone for help? But the farm house was miles away from this point on the road, not even visible. Everything was blanketed in white, making it easy to see her footprints.
“What the hell?” he grumbled, wondering if he should call 911 and trying not to imagine the worst case scenario. He heard a cracking sound and picked up his pace. He wasn’t wearing snow boots, though thankfully he wasn’t wearing his sneakers either as he had been on a jobsite today. His breathing got heavier as he trudged through the snow, his pulse picking up the pace as he moved the flashlight from side to side, shining it between the thickly stacked trees. His heart just about exploded from his chest when he came upon her, bent at the waist, breathing heavy, hands resting on her knees, an axe at her feet.
“Anna!” he yelled, not caring that he sounded scared. She let out a high-pitched screech.
“Oh my God, Sam!” she yelled back, hand on her chest when she saw him. “You scared the heck out of me!”
“Me? I scared you? Are you kidding me?” he demanded, finally getting close enough to grab her by both arms. He shook her slightly, looking down at her, breathing out the last of his concern though his heart was still tap dancing wildly. He dragged her to his chest, hugged her hard. In return, she brought her arms up over his and shoved him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes darkening like the night.
“What are you doing here?” he countered, looking around to see if there was any immediate danger, but not letting go of her arms.
“First of all, stop repeating everything I say and second of all, I’m getting a tree,” she answered.
“You’re getting a tree?”
“Didn’t I just tell you to stop repeating me? Yes! I’m getting a tree,” she shouted, pulling out of his embrace. He looked a little closer just to the left of her and sure enough, there was a tree that had been partially hacked, presumably with the axe lying on the ground. He tried to reach inside himself and find some sort of calm but came up empty.
“Did you miss the ten tree lots in town?” he asked.
Chapter Four
Anna took a deep, shaky breath, told herself not to pick up the axe while he was making her mad and adjusted her coat so it wasn’t bunched up around her arms. Only then, did she feel calm enough to speak.
“Do not swear at me,” she started, putting her hands on her hips. “And no, I did not miss the ten tree lots in town. I passed them on purpose when I was looking for a place to cut down my own. What are you laughing at?”
“It sounds funny when you swear.”
“I’m glad I amuse you,” she said, hoping her voice was colder than the snow. She started to pick up the axe, she was losing light, but he stopped her by wrapping his large hand around her wrist.
“Anna. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or swear,” he said softly. “Or laugh at you. You scared me. I mean seriously, heart in my throat scared me.”
Her shoulders dropped and she moved into him, giving him a brief pat on the arm.
“I’m sorry too, Sam. I didn’t know a woman chopping down a tree was so frightening for you. I wish you had told me,” she said seriously, holding his gaze. His features hardened which surprised her into stepping back.
“It scared me to see your car on the side of a road, at night, in the snow when traffic is backed up for miles, knowing it’s still a new town to you,” he explained succinctly. She frowned, thinking of it from his point of view.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Really. I wanted to chop down my own tree and couldn’t find a place to do it so I was going home and saw all these trees and thought I’d just grab o
ne of these.”
“You thought you’d grab one? Just like that? Oh, I like this one, that’ll do?” he growled.
“Yes, actually. That one there.” She pointed to the one that was stubbornly hanging onto its trunk.
“Well, since you’re grabbing things you like, your car is crap and traffic is slow, so why don’t you just grab one of those too?”
“What are you talking about?” He stalked over to her, standing so close she had to crane her neck back to look at him.
“What do you call it when you take something that’s not yours, Ms. Meyers?”
“It’s – oh my goodness!” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh. I didn’t –,” she looked back at the tree and her heart thundered while a lump formed in her throat. Her voice came out as a whisper, “Sam is this illegal?” He closed his eyes in response which was definitely not good.
“Unless you’re hiding a Felling Notice under your coat.”
“A what?”
“You need a permit, Anna. Or at least permission from Old Man Cantry who owns all of this land. You can’t just chop down trees because you think they’re pretty and want one real bad,” he said wearily. Both hands went to his hair and her heart pinched at the tone in his voice that suggested she should have known this before starting. It sucked that he was right.
He walked over to where the tree that she’d started chopping lay pathetically hacked at the bottom of the trunk. She’d been taking a much needed break from chopping; trying to pull some air into her lungs and restore some feeling to her shoulders when he’d scared the life out of her a few moments ago.
Now, surveying the scene, knowing what he’d thought, realizing she was committing a crime, she felt beyond foolish. Foolish, tired, hungry, and treeless. Not a great combo. She kicked at the snow while he stared at the tree, waiting for him to tell her how ridiculous and stupid she was, how this was not a thing that a woman went out and did on her own. That she should have talked to a man, to him before doing anything. Tears formed in her eyes and felt like they were turning into tiny drops of ice.
