The Time of Aspen Falls

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “You’re a total hypocrite, you know,” Aspen said.

  “You mean because I’m telling you to go for it with this Rake guy while I’m sitting at home avoiding every man on earth?”

  “Exactly,” Aspen confirmed.

  Gina nodded and took another bite of her apple. “I know. I really do know,” she admitted. “But…but I just don’t think I can go through that again.”

  “Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe the next UPS guy to ask you out will be the one…and you’ll marry him and live happily ever after.”

  “I was at my mom’s house the other day,” Gina began, “and the doorbell rang, and I answered it. The most gorgeous UPS guy you ever saw in your life was standing on the other side of the door. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. The name on his shirt said Sean…and for one brief moment, I thought, ‘I oughta take hold of this guy’s collar and just kiss him right on the mouth.’ You know, get it out of my system…kiss a UPS guy and finally kiss Nick good-bye for good at the same time.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Gina frowned. “Are you kidding? A total stranger? He might have had some gross lip disease or something.”

  “Now you sound like me—wondering if Rake would turn out to be a serial killer.”

  Gina wagged an index finger at Aspen and said, “Statistically, there’s a bigger chance the UPS guy might have a lip fungus than there is of Rake’s being a serial killer.”

  “Statistically?”

  “Yeah. I think I read that somewhere,” Gina said. Her eyes smiled with mischief.

  “Well, usually a doctor can clear up a lip fungus…but he can’t sew all your parts back together once you’ve been murdered and dismembered,” Aspen said.

  “True.” Gina giggled, tossing her apple core to the ground. “Well…maybe next time I’m at my mom’s and the UPS guy rings the doorbell…maybe I’ll just bust out of my shell and lay one on him.”

  “You’d feel better,” Aspen said. “I know you would. It would be, like, so liberating for you.”

  “Okay,” Gina said—resolved. “I’ll do it.”

  “Promise.”

  “Of course!”

  Aspen knew Gina had no intention of following through with her plan to hit on the UPS man. It was just a deliberation to distract her from her broken heart. Aspen’s own doubts returned then too.

  “What if he doesn’t ever ask me out again?” she asked. She’d been worrying all morning—all morning as she tried to sleep, tried to get some rest to make up for staying up all night. All morning she’d wondered if she’d been enough fun to be with—if she’d been interesting enough for Rake to consider asking out again. Still, he’d implied he would take her piñon picking. Surely he wouldn’t have suggested it unless he liked her enough to spend the day searching through the wilderness for the small brown seeds with her.

  “Oh, he will,” Gina told her. “A guy doesn’t take a girl on a twelve-hour, scandalous, all night date and not ask her out again. Just be positive! Positive thinking—that’s the whole key. Anyway…didn’t he say he wanted to rake your leaves sometime?”

  Aspen giggled. “He was teasing, Gina.” Still, the memory of Rake’s flirtatious comment caused her arms to prickle a bit with goose bumps.

  “Are you so sure about that?” Gina asked, her brows arching in a daring expression.

  “Yes,” Aspen said. “But just for you…I’ll keep myself thinking positive for the rest of the day.”

  Gina nodded and smiled. “Good. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” Gina began, “I did take an early lunch on Monday…so I can help you with your event for sure.”

  “Oh, man!” Aspen whined. “I forgot all about that!”

  Aspen dreaded certain kinds of book release events at the store. Some were fun, and some definitely weren’t. The one scheduled for Monday—the Willamina Dog in the Wobbly Wood event—was definitely not on her fun list.

  “How did you get stuck wearing the costume anyway?” Gina asked.

  “I volunteered,” Aspen grumbled. “Actually, I wanted the Fourth of July off. Remember? And in a moment of desperate insanity, I switched with Erlinda. She did the Fourth of July punch table, and I agreed to do the Willamina Dog event.”

  “Well, that’ll teach you,” Gina said, smiling.

  “No kidding.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just help me keep the kids settled down when I read the book to them,” Aspen explained. “I can do the rest.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  Aspen smiled at her friend. “Thanks,” she said. Gina was a treasure. Aspen couldn’t imagine her life without Gina—her confidant—her once-in-a-lifetime friend.

  

  Aspen yawned and pressed the off button on the remote. She glanced up at the wall, rolling her eyes when she remembered her Uncle Guy’s clock was still at the Clock Shop. With a tired sigh, she leaned forward and picked her cell phone up off the coffee table.

  “Only seven thirty?” she groaned. It felt so much later. Of course, she had been up the entire night before. It was no wonder she was so tired.

  She and Gina had spent almost three hours in the branches of the old apple tree. Although Aspen enjoyed the time with her friend, combined with such sleep deprivation, it had worn her to a great fatigue.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to bed at seven thirty,” she yawned. Struggling to her feet, Aspen went to the kitchen and turned off the stove. She removed the pan of boiling apples and cinnamon she’d been simmering to scent the apartment, inhaling one last delicious, aromatic whiff of the fragrant steam. Aspen checked the front door to make sure it was locked and then headed to her bedroom.

  There, amid a décor comprising warm autumn colors—of muted gold sheets, a soft brown suede comforter, and throw pillows in a leaf motif—Aspen drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were of cool autumn nights, the beautiful lights of Albuquerque viewed from atop a mesa, and the dazzling smile of a handsome master watchmaker.

  

  “You look adorable!” Gina giggled.

  Aspen sneered at her friend. Narrowing her eyes with annoyance, she said, “I look ridiculous, and you know it!”

  “Not to these kids,” Gina said. She nodded in the direction of the group of children starting to gather in the children’s section of the store.

  Aspen smiled and waved to a little girl sitting at one of the child-sized reading tables nearby.

  “Hi, Willamina,” the little girl giggled.

  “Hi!” Aspen responded. She was a darling little dark-haired girl.

  “Mommy! Willamina waved to me, Mommy! And she said hi! She said hi to me, Mommy! To me!” the little girl exclaimed to the woman sitting next to her.

  Suddenly, Aspen didn’t feel quite so ridiculous being dressed in a large pink dog costume.

  Adjusting the paw mittens of the costume, Aspen turned to look at herself in the full length mirror on the wall near the children’s height chart.

  “I guess it’s not so bad,” she said.

  “It’s cute!” Gina exclaimed. “Besides…what would you rather be? A giant pink dog with yellow spots and a big rear end, all happy and adorable…or an ugly old toad in a witch hat like last fall when Mrs. Toad’s Halloween Stew hit the shelves?”

  “Good point,” Aspen said. She smiled, fluffed the long yellow ringlets boinging down from the costume’s head, and inhaled a breath of resolve. “After all, you’re right. It could be worse.”

  “And the kids love Willamina stories!” Gina giggled as she studied Aspen for a moment. “Just be glad your honey sugar buns, Mr. Rake Locker, doesn’t!”

  “No kidding! The spider thing was bad enough,” Aspen said. “He’d hightail it away from me as fast as he could if he got a load of me in this outfit!”

  “Still,” Gina began, “there is a certain voluptuousness about this look…especially on you.”

  “It just screams sophistication…doesn’t it?” Aspen giggled. She looked at hersel
f in the mirror once more and studied her new pink pear-shape, the long tail curling up from her outsized behind, and the big pink padded feet of the costume. It was hilarious!

  She shook her head, feeling suddenly lighthearted and carefree. Children did love Willamina. She should be proud to wear the pink-and-yellow Willamina Dog costume—proud of the large floppy ears and yellow boinging ringlets framing her face.

  “Boys and girls,” Gina began, “are you ready for Willamina’s new adventure?”

  The cheers and clapping of the thirty or so small children sitting here and there in the children’s section was almost deafening.

  “Wonderful! Then let’s give Willamina all our attention while she tells us about it. Okay?”

  “Okay!” rose the shrill song of unified young voices.

  Aspen skipped up to the little storytelling platform nearby. As the children clapped and called to her, she smiled, waving and blowing kisses to the tiny members of the audience.

  “Good afternoon, girls and boys!” she called.

  “Good afternoon, Willamina!” the children called in answer.

  “Boy, oh, boy, did I have an adventure this week! I visited the Wobbly Wood!”

  “Yay!” the children shouted.

  “Shall I tell you all about it?” Aspen asked.

  “Yay!” the children shouted again.

  Gina winked at Aspen with encouragement as Aspen awkwardly sat down on the platform. She picked up the nearby copy of Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood and opened it.

  “Once upon a time,” she began to read aloud, “there was a pretty pink dog with lovely golden locks.”

  The children giggled, and their mothers tried to settle them down.

  Aspen giggled, the delight of the children having spilled over onto her. She did love her job! Oh, maybe she didn’t like wearing the uncomfortable and sometimes ridiculous costumes, but she did love working at the bookstore.

  “Her name was Willamina…and Willamina loved adventure,” Aspen continued. She glanced up to see Gina grinning at her—entirely amused, entirely delighted, or maybe both. Either way, it buoyed her confidence, and she began to enjoy the read.

  

  Twenty minutes later, as the children flittered around among the books and tables in the children’s section, Aspen breathed a sigh of relief as Gina approached her, applauding.

  “You made it!” she said. “And it’s a cute story too.”

  “Yeah. And at least I can take this costume off. I’m sweltering!” Aspen complained in a whisper.

  “Aspen,” Michael, the assistant store manager, said. He appeared suddenly, as if he’d just popped up out of nowhere. It was his habit, and it drove Aspen crazy. “The lighted village is out.”

  “Is it plugged in?” Aspen asked.

  Michael was arrogant and lazy. He never lifted a finger—always delegated every task to someone else.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Why don’t you crawl under the table and find out.”

  Aspen saw Gina open her mouth to speak but jabbed an elbow in her friend’s ribs to silence her. No doubt Gina had a witty or cutting response to Michael’s demands. But this was not the time.

  “Okay, I will,” Aspen said.

  “And leave the dog suit on for a few more minutes. It’ll help sales,” he added. He turned on his effeminate heels and walked away.

  “How can you stand that guy?” Gina asked. “He’s such a jerk…not to mention he’s more girlie than I am.”

  “I know,” Aspen grumbled. “He drives me crazy. But he also determines my schedule. I don’t want to tick him off.” She turned toward the display table. “Come on,” she said to Gina. “I might need a little help.”

  “That guy needs a few shots of testosterone,” Gina mumbled under her breath. “What I wouldn’t give for one good Marlboro Man.”

  As Aspen approached the little village display table in the corner, it was indeed to see the buildings were not lit up. The train wasn’t running around the track either.

  “Somebody probably tripped on the cord and unplugged it,” she said.

  “It’s so cute!” Gina exclaimed.

  “It is, huh?” Aspen agreed.

  The village always made her smile. Little porcelain houses lined the cobblestone streets on one end of the table, while small porcelain shops and stores lined the ones at the other end. Miniature autumn trees lined the streets as well, adding splashes of orange and yellow color to the backyards of the buildings. A little replica steam engine usually chugged about the perimeter, and a tiny sound effects speaker hidden beneath one of the buildings played soft, town-type noises—children playing, shop doors opening, footsteps on cobblestone. It was simply a magical little display.

  “It’s just like those Christmas villages you see in all the windows of those fancy stores at Christmastime!” Gina exclaimed.

  “All these pieces are made by the same company that makes those. It’s their autumn collection,” Aspen said. She dropped to her knees and lifted the table skirt. Peering beneath the table, she said, “Yep! It’s unplugged in the back here.” She began to squirm beneath the table, but when the big pink tail of her Willamina costume got caught up on the table skirt, she paused. “Michael is such a jerk,” she said. “This would’ve been so much easier for him to do. Will you hold up the table skirt for me, please, Gina?”

  Gina nodded and lifted the skirt as Aspen, now on all fours, crawled under the table. Gina giggled, amused by the sight of Aspen’s large pink doggy bum and curly doggy tail wagging this way and that as she struggled to illuminate the village.

  “Have you got it?” she asked, trying not to giggle out loud.

  “It’s all tangled up,” Aspen said. “Just a second. I’ll get it.”

  Gina giggled just a little—resisted the urge to pat Aspen on the big pink bum. She glanced up, curious to see if any of the customers were privy to the same amusing view of her best friend as she was—gasping when she saw none other than the handsome Rake Locker striding toward them.

  “Oh, no!” she breathed. The spider incident in the park would seem trivial compared with what would be unavoidable in the next split second. Gina knew Aspen would rather faint in Rake’s arms because of a spider than have him see her in the Willamina Dog costume.

  She looked down at Aspen’s pink bum and tail. Maybe the table skirt was long enough to cover her. Yet if she tried to drop the table skirt over the costume’s large bum and there wasn’t enough fabric to allow for the give, then the village might come crashing down around them. Which was worse—wrecking the store’s no doubt expensive porcelain building or letting Rake Locker find Aspen dressed up like a pink dog and scrounging around under a table?

  Gina gulped as Rake walked up to her, a knowing smile spreading across his handsome face as he glanced down at the big pink doggy bum and tail sticking out from under the table.

  “What’s up?” he greeted. “Gina…right?”

  “Yeah,” Gina said. She felt her own cheeks turn crimson with an embarrassed blush—empathy for her best friend.

  “I’ve just…about…just about…oh! It’s so tangled up under here,” Aspen complained from underneath the table.

  Rake’s smiled broadened. He pointed to the big pink doggy bum and tail. “Aspen?” he asked.

  Gina bit her lip, winced, blushed a deeper shade of crimson, and nodded.

  Rake wanted to laugh. He wanted to roar! What were the odds that he would be so lucky as to come upon Aspen in such an adorably ridiculous situation? He watched the pink rear end of the costume she was wearing wiggle back and forth as she struggled with whatever she was struggling with beneath the table. The big pink tail attached to the costume bobbed back and forth too.

  Pointing to Aspen’s rear end, he asked her friend, “Pig?”

  “Big pink dog,” the pretty girl named Gina answered.

  “I can’t get the cord to reach the outlet!” Aspen grumbled from beneath the table. “How did this happen? And it’s hotter
than heck under here!”

  “Long day, huh?” Rake chuckled quietly.

  “Oh, yeah,” Gina answered, nodding.

  He couldn’t resist then—he had to do it. He had to! He couldn’t restrain himself another moment. Reaching out, he took hold of the wagging pink tail. He tugged on it twice, chuckling when a pink paw reached back from under the table and pulled the tail out of his hand.

  “Gina!” Aspen scolded. “This is hard enough without your teasing.”

  Rake took hold of Aspen’s tail again, tugged a little harder, and said, “Um…excuse me…miss?”

  He grimaced when he heard Aspen’s head hit the underside of the table. The tail and big pink rear end stopped moving—cold-stone still for a moment. He laughed in his throat, completely amused as he watched Aspen slowly back out from under the table. As she turned to face him and rolled over to sit down on the big pink doggy bum, he struggled not to laugh. She was adorable! Dressed head to toe in a pink dog costume, complete with yellow hair and big floppy ears—well, he was glad the costume was the kind that had the ears and hair attached to a sort of face-fitting hood—for the expression on her pretty little face was priceless!

  “Hello,” Aspen said. Rake Locker? She wanted to curl up and die! How long had he been standing there? Why hadn’t Gina warned her? She quickly glanced at Gina, who wore an expression of complete empathy. Gina shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. No doubt Gina had been as surprised as Aspen at seeing Rake—just not as humiliated.