Farther along the trail, Corey pointed out a spot. “That’s where I saw deer tracks, Dad.”
Jared went closer. “Yep, you were right. Those are deer tracks. Maybe we’ll see some today.” Corey’s face brightened, and Jared knew his son would be thrilled if they happened upon some deer. And frankly, he’d get a kick out of it himself. There was something so noble and majestic about the large-eyed animals. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could shoot such a beautiful animal.
When they reached the large pond, Jared unzipped the backpack and pulled out a small blue tarp, which he spread on the ground. Corey sat on it and began taking off his boots.
“Hold up, son. I’ve got to check out the ice, remember?”
Corey objected. “But people had been skating on it.”
“They might be lucky people; we’re going to make sure it’s safe.”
Although the weather had been below freezing for some time, Jared wanted to be sure. Robin had often accused him of being overly cautious, but there were worse traits.
It had snowed a little the night before, and a few feet from shore Jared brushed the snow away so he could see the ice. Corey stood at his shoulder.
“See the color, son? How it’s kind of a bluish-white? And there’s no slush, cracks, or holes.” He stood. “You stay here. I’m going to check it a little farther out.”
Carrying his auger, Jared went out, visually inspected the ice, then went near the middle of the pond. Using the auger, he drilled down, then measured. The past month of cold weather had frozen the pond to a little over four inches. Perfect. He gave his son a thumb’s up.
With a loud whoop, Corey ran to the tarp to change into skates. He was on the ice before Jared even had his boots off. When he finished lacing up, Jared joined his son.
Snow draped the pine trees and frosted the bare branches of the oak, maple, and hickory trees. The stillness of the air was broken only by an occasional chickadee, sparrow, or the honk of a goose flying overhead. Not many people had a winter paradise like this to play in. This pond and these woods were a magical place indeed. In fact, all of Lake Forest was magical. It was a place where Jared could hum, sing, and shout if he wanted—a place where he could be himself and be at ease without the discomfort and awkwardness that so often claimed him around other people.
As a child, Jared had been different from other boys his age. Most families back then had a mother and a father. Plus other families stayed put, while he and his mom were constantly on the move. Jared despised being the new kid, and he always was.
Although he always made new friends, Jared fought feelings of inadequacy. He was perpetually on the outside looking in. The one place Jared felt comfortable was when he’d lived in West Lake Forest and played with Izzy in these woods. It seemed strange now, how they’d spent most of their time here and that he’d never gone to Izzy’s house. Although once, her parents had driven him home from the carnival, and Izzy had pointed out her house. But it had been dark, and all the houses looked alike.
What a friend he’d had in Izzy! When he was with her, Jared shed his feelings of inadequacy and felt like he was the same as anyone else. If only he and his mom didn’t have to move each time she couldn’t pay the rent. So many times he’d longed with all of his being to stay in one place. And the place he’d loved the best was Lake Forest. He made a vow that when he grew up, he would come back and live there.
But life did get better, especially after his mother met and married Bill Rawlins. Bill had been a kindly stepfather, and over the next ten years, they had welcomed the arrival of three babies. Before he knew it, Jared had two sisters and a brother. Although all of them were married now, they had stayed close.
He and Corey skated around the pond, the cold air icy on his face. Why didn’t they come more often? The exhilaration of speeding around the pond got Jared’s blood pumping. When Corey bent to peer at something, Jared did a hockey stop, spraying fine bits of ice all over him.
“Hey!” Corey yelled. Then he asked, “Show me how to do that!”
“It’s easier with hockey skates,” Jared told him, then went over it patiently again and again until Corey got the hang of it.
Tiring of that, they skated around the pond’s perimeter, with Corey doing his best to keep up with his dad. When he and Corey had moved to Lake Forest, Jared was no longer a shy boy. Strangers were no longer strangers, and he walked with a light step. It was as if he had slipped into his team’s colors. He joked with customers and made easy conversation with everyone he met. For once, Jared truly belonged—a heady feeling he hadn’t experienced while growing up.
Although his cautious nature made him buy a small house, Jared had been more excited than he cared to admit when the café began doing well enough for him to afford something larger. Tom’s big red brick house and yard had everything Jared had been searching for. It was the stuff of his boyhood dreams. There was a big front porch, tall sturdy trees, and large rooms. It was exactly what he wanted—a well-built home in an established neighborhood. The house had a sense of permanence that appealed to him. As a boy, Jared and his mother had always lived on the fringes—temporary interlopers—and Jared had always longed to have this kind of stability. He was eager to establish roots—to be in one place long enough for people to know his name and wave as they went by.
Corey caught up with him and, with a burst of speed, zoomed past. Jared grinned and let his son enjoy his victory. As he glided over the ice, he thought of Kenzie’s treachery. Now his dreams were in jeopardy. It disturbed him to realize how misguided he’d been to be drawn to a person as deceitful as McKenzie Forsberg. He hated to remember how attracted he’d been her when they’d sat and talked at the café. It had been a long time since he’d responded so deeply to a woman. He’d been taken in by her outward charm and false warmth. And on the inside, she’d been plotting against him. Jared grimaced. Usually he was an excellent judge of character, and this lapse bothered him. He’d let himself be taken in by a pretty face.
Yet it hadn’t been just her face that had drawn him. He’d truly enjoyed talking with her, being with her. Kenzie had seemed like a warm, sensitive, and caring person, and to discover the truth had been a jolt. He couldn’t believe her duplicity. Kenzie was a regular Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At least he’d found out the truth before—before—he refused to finish the thought.
Suddenly, Corey swatted at him from behind, laughed, and sped away.
Jared shook off his doldrums. “You want to race, do you?” he called. “I’m going to get you!”
Corey’s legs churned, but with Jared’s long legs it didn’t take long to catch up. Jared slapped his son lightly on the shoulder as he passed. Tag. Then he slowed. Corey caught up, and then it was Jared’s turn to chase his son. Round and round they went. Jared’s blades made whirring sounds as his feet crossed each other on curves. When Corey slipped and fell, laughing as he slid on the ice, Jared decided to take a break.
“Let’s have some hot cider,” Jared suggested, and they made their way to the tarp and pulled out the thermos. As Jared poured, steam rose from their foam cups.
“So it’s okay if I come here with Sara?” Corey wanted to be sure.
“Just be careful. Don’t be showing off.” But of course it was a lost cause. He was speaking as a parent rather than from what he had done himself as a young boy. It seemed the natural order of things for boys to show off for girls.
“I don’t want you falling and breaking your nose,” he teased, making Corey grin. “I say that because I had a lot of bumps and bruises when I tried to show off for Izzy.”
“Did you come here a lot?”
“Almost every day in the summer, and in the winter—every chance we could. Izzy was a really good skater,” Jared recalled. “She had these beautiful white skates her parents had bought for her. I was embarrassed by mine. They were way too big, and I kept tripping.” He’d stuffed the toes with pieces of rags, which often made them uncomfortable. Jared recalled how he’d beg
ged his mother for ice skates and his disappointment when she couldn’t afford them. She explained that Jared needed other things more—a coat, pants, and shoes—but Jared continued to beg. He stopped, though, when he saw tears in his mother’s eyes and felt ashamed for causing her pain.
“And then Izzy gave you some skates.” Corey had heard his father tell this story before.
It was one of Jared’s fondest memories. “We met here in the woods, and she had this huge box for me, tied up with green ribbon—her favorite color. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas, but Izzy said she wanted to give me my present early so I could use them as long as possible. You see, I’d already told her my mom and I were moving in February.”
“And you didn’t know what was in the box?” Corey could hardly believe his father had been so slow.
“Nope. I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited over a present as I was over that one.” Jared poured a little more cider. “We skated for hours, although it seemed like minutes. I had terrible blisters but never even realized it until I took off those skates.”
After such a magnificent present, Jared had been determined to find something equally stunning for Izzy. Trouble was, nothing he thought of could equal such an incredible gift. Another difficulty was that he had no money. Unwilling to give up, Jared went door to door, asking neighbors if they had any odd jobs he could do to earn money. He’d struck the jackpot when he knocked on Mr. Manzano’s door a few houses down.
The big man in worn overalls nearly filled the doorway. He stroked his huge mustache contemplatively as Jared asked for a job.
“What do you need the money for?” Mr. Manzano asked gruffly.
“A Christmas present.”
“For who?”
“A friend.” Somehow, he found himself telling about the wondrous gift he’d received.
“Got something in mind?”
Jared shook his head. “I just want to get her something nice.”
“Come on in.” Mr. Manzano led him to two straight-backed chairs in a small, musty front room with heavy curtains. A bookshelf held wooden animals, and a cuckoo clock on the wall ticked loudly. “What about your mom? You doing something nice for her too?”
“I already bought her present.” Jared explained that he occasionally went without lunch so he could save his lunch money. He’d also collected empty pop bottles during the summer so he could buy his mother a pair of soft slippers. “She’s a waitress,” he explained, “and her feet hurt a lot.”
“Good boy.” Mr. Manzano rubbed his whiskery chin. “Now, about this friend—did you ever think about making her something?”
Jared had, but making a picture frame out of popsicle sticks seemed lame as did everything else he’d thought of. “Not really, sir.”
Mr. Manzano pointed at the bookshelf, and Jared took a closer look at the astonishing array of wooden animals. “Any of those strike your fancy?”
As if drawn by a magnet, Jared rose and went over. He touched a German shepherd, running a finger over the satiny finish. He jumped when Mr. Manzano spoke from directly behind him. He hadn’t heard the big man get up.
“Nice, eh? I made them. Every one.”
Jared could hardly believe it. He peered at the man with wide eyes, then studied the rows of giraffes, elephants, dogs, monkeys, and kangaroos. “You made all of these?”
“Every last one. Got a woodworking shop.” The old man picked up a wooden reindeer. “Now, this’d be just the ticket for Christmas.” He handed it to Jared, who examined it closely. It was perfect. The antlers and hooves were painted white, and it had a red nose and blue eyes. It stood on an oval pedestal with one front leg raised as if ready to paw the ground.
A deal was struck. Nearly every day, Jared showed up to do whatever job Mr. Manzano had lined up for him that day. When he was done, they’d head for the workshop.
The old man cut out the reindeer himself. “Don’t want you to lose a finger, now do we?”
Under the light of a single dangling bulb that illuminated the workbench in the garage, the old man showed Jared how to sand the wood to a smooth finish. When he was done, Mr. Manzano explained two thin coats of shellac were better than one thick coat. When the reindeer was done, it rivaled any of the old man’s animals.
After packing it in a box with wadded-up newspaper, Jared wrapped it carefully and tied it with the green ribbon he’d saved from his present. When he gave it to Izzy, she was thrilled beyond measure. You’d have thought he had plucked a star down from heaven and given it to her.
Jared was brought out of his memories by the noise of Corey tearing his foam cup into pieces. “You’re making a mess, son,” he admonished, then put the thermos in his backpack. “I treasured those skates. Don’t believe I’ve ever had a better present.”
“Is that why you put them in the café window each year?”
“They bring back some wonderful memories—even if they do have green laces.” For some reason that was fathomable only to her girlish mind, Izzy had taken out the black laces and put Kelly-green ones in. The first time Jared put on the skates, he felt embarrassed and was about to ask for the original laces, but before he could get a word out, Izzy told him about all the trouble she’d had getting those awful green ones. When Izzy explained she’d gotten them because she wanted something special for him, he’d clamped his mouth shut and never mentioned it again. Still, Jared had been awfully glad his pants covered up most of those embarrassing laces.
“Dad, look!” Corey’s voice was an urgent whisper as he pointed at a pair of deer emerging from the wintry woods at the far end of the pond. They were nosing the snow-blanketed bushes. From time to time, one of them stretched its neck and glanced quietly in their direction. Clearly, the deer were aware of them but appeared unafraid. Finally, the animals meandered away, and Jared and Corey packed up and headed back down the trail amidst the bare-limbed trees.
There was one thing Jared hadn’t mentioned to Corey about Izzy’s gift. Mostly because it came from something so deep he couldn’t put it into words. But it was there inside him nonetheless. Each year, when he decorated the store window and put his childhood skates in the display, Jared felt a deep longing—a hope—that Izzy would pass by his café and see the skates with those green laces. Then she would walk inside, all grown up and beautiful, and ask to see him. Tears would be in her eyes as she explained that she’d seen the skates. They would sit and talk for hours—like they used to.
Jared shook himself as they reached the car. He popped the trunk and set his backpack and tarp inside. He’d let time get away from him this year, but tomorrow for sure he’d finish the window display.
Chapter Twenty
Waiting for sacrament meeting to begin, Kenzie turned around, hoping to spot Tom and Mandy. She was saving a spot for them on the blue upholstered pew beside Sara and her parents. But instead of her brother, Kenzie saw Jared and Corey shaking hands with the door greeter. She couldn’t take her eyes away. Jared did look fine in a suit! When he came up the carpeted aisle, Jared noticed her and nodded. Kenzie smiled back. A few minutes later, Tom, Mandy, and their children came in.
After the meeting, Sara went off with Brian and Hillary while Kenzie followed Tom and her parents to Sunday School. Ahead of them, Jared stood at the library door. The librarian handed him a picture of John the Baptist.
Tom and her parents said hello and went on, but Kenzie stopped. “You must be a teacher.”
“Fourteen-year-olds.” Jared rolled his eyes, then grinned. “They can be a handful at times.”
This wasn’t the ideal place or time, but Kenzie had to say something. “I know this isn’t a good time, but sometime I’d like to explain what happened with Tracy Perez.”
Instantly, Jared’s face changed—hardened. “You’re right; it isn’t a good time.”
“I didn’t mean now, but maybe we could talk sometime soon?”
He shrugged. “It’s over. What’s done is done.”
When Jared made a moti
on as if to go, Kenzie put a timid hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry about what happened. Please, I’d like to explain—I think you and Tom took it a lot worse than it was.”
“We did, huh?” Jared’s words were scornful. “And now you want to whitewash it?”
Despite the sting, Kenzie replied slowly, “No, I only want to explain.”
“I’ve heard all I need to. Now, I really have to go.”
Kenzie felt a great ache as he walked away.
After church, Allen, Elaine, Kenzie, and Sara went home and had a light snack. Tom and Mandy were coming over later for dinner. There was a roast in the slow cooker and potatoes, ready to be baked, wrapped in tinfoil on the counter. Her mother lay down for a nap, and her father did the same, sitting in the recliner, holding a drooping newspaper as he snored. Restless, Kenzie wandered through the house then stopped beside Sara, who was reading.
“Feel like going for a walk?”
Sara looked up with an eager expression. “Sure!”
It took a few minutes to bundle themselves in coats, hats, boots, and gloves, but finally they were set. Almost.
“Wait a minute!” Sara clumped into the kitchen, took off her gloves to grab a baggie, then filled it with birdseed from a sack in the pantry.
“I think Grandma filled the bird feeders the other day,” Kenzie told her.
“I want to take some to the woods and feed the birds there.”
They went through the backyard gate and along the trail, which was dusted with new snow. For a while, the trail was wide enough for them to hold gloved hands as they walked along side by side. When they reached an open area, Sara pulled off a glove, dug into her baggie, and threw a handful of seed—which promptly went through the inch of new snow.
Disappointed the seed was hidden, Sara frowned, but Kenzie told her, “When the sun melts the snow, the birds will be able to see it.”
Sara went off the trail, her boots punching through the top crust. “Maybe we could make a snowman and put birdseed over him.”
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