The Puck Charmer

by Cathryn Fox

  I take a look at the apartment building. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Not that long. Just one year. After my grandmother went into the nursing home, I didn’t want to stay in her old house alone.” She reaches for the door handle. “It was big and lonely and always made weird creaking sounds.”

  “Maybe a pet would have helped.” I bought my house as an investment, and the thrill of hearing my echo wore off in about thirty seconds.

  “Then I’d be that old cat lady at twenty-five.”

  As I laugh at that, she looks off into the distance, her expression soft and…sad. “It’s been on the market for a while.”

  “You don’t want to sell it, do you?” I ask.

  Her shoulders shrug in a non-committal way. “Just so many memories.” She gives a humorless chuckle. “I used to think I’d always live in it, and raise my family there, and pass it down from generation to generation. But the upkeep is expensive and with Grandma in a nursing home…”

  I get the sense she needs the money from the sale. “I’m sorry you have to sell it.”

  I slip from the vehicle and an elderly lady comes from the apartment, holding the door for us.

  The lines around her blue eyes crinkle when she sees us. “Alyssa, darling, how are you?”

  “I’m good, Theresa, how are you?” she says in a loud voice, but Theresa’s attention is no longer on Alyssa. Nope, it’s on me.

  “Who might you be?” Theresa asks.

  I chuckle. You have to love a woman who gets right to the point, and I guess at her age, why bother beating around the bush. “I’m Alek,” I say, raising my voice to match Alyssa’s. “A friend of Alyssa’s.”

  “Oh,” she says and doesn’t bother hiding her approving smile. “We’re all having trouble with the internet today,” she says. “I think you’ll have to nix the Netflix and just chill.” My jaw drops, as her cane hits the pavement and she moves along the sidewalk. “Say hello to your grandmother for me.”

  “Did she just say what I think she said?”

  I turn back to Alyssa, and her cheeks are fiery red, her jaw hanging open in much the same way as mine. Theresa whistles as she walks away.

  “Yeah, she did, but I have a feeling she doesn’t really know the meaning behind it. She probably thinks it just means hang out.”

  “I don’t know, but I want to erase that from my memory.”

  Alyssa laughs. “You’re not the only one. Come on.”

  I follow her inside her building, and we take the stairs to the third floor. She opens her door, and the warmth and coziness of her place washes over me. I grin as I take in the papers on the table by the front door and the scattering of shoes. It’s like organized chaos and it instantly puts me at ease.

  She kicks off her boots and I step a little further in to take in her living room and the stacks of books. “I take it you like to read.”

  “No, those books are just to impress guests.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Then it’s working.”

  “I’ll wait here while you get some clothes and your toothbrush.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You said you had a sofa, Alyssa. That’s a loveseat. I’d have to sleep with my knees around my ears.” I catch her grin. “You think that’s funny?”

  “I’d kind of like to see that.”

  “Go. Pack a bag.”

  She takes two steps down the hall and disappears into a room that’s likely her bedroom. “This is a small town, Alek. People are going to start talking if we stay together.”

  “From what I’ve seen so far, ninety percent of the population needs hearing aids, so they can talk all they want. No one is going to hear it.”

  Her chuckle reaches my ears, and she sticks her head out to see me. “Be nice.”

  “I’m always nice.” She disappears again, and that gives me pause. I never stopped to consider her position. “Seriously though, are you worried about that?”

  “No, I’m a big girl. I can do what I want.”

  She comes back into the hall with a backpack over one shoulder. “Did you pack enough for ninety-six hours?”

  “I am not staying for four days.” She puts on a pair of flat shoes. “Now can we go. Grandma is going to wonder what’s keeping me.”

  I take her bag from her and open the front door. “After you, milady,” I say and wave my hand for her to enter the hall. My chivalry gets me a big fat eye roll. We get back in her truck and I back out of the lot. “Where is the nursing home?”

  “Take a right at the lights.”

  She jacks the music as I take the turn and I crank down the window to get a breath of fresh air. “It’s so quiet here,” I say.

  “It’s not for everyone.” She turns away from me, but not before I catch a pained look on her pretty face.

  “What do you do for fun, besides beautify people’s yards?” I ask, wanting to bring her smile back and lighten her mood.

  “I do love beautifying yards, and I was serious about the burning bush,” she says. “I’d love to plant one in Tyler’s yard. I bet Captain Jack would love—”

  “To relieve himself on it?”

  She laughs, and rolls her window down to create a cross breeze. It blows her hair across her face and all I want to do is touch it, rub it between my fingers as I place my lips on the pulse beating at the base of her throat.

  “Okay, I wasn’t going to say that, but you’re probably right.”

  “So fun?” I ask, bringing us back to my original question. “What do you do?”

  She breathes out and relaxes against the seat. “I don’t have a lot of free time in the summer, but I love to…wait, you won’t make fun of me, will you?”

  “I can’t guarantee it, Alyssa,” I say with a straight face.

  “Fine, I actually love to fly fish. My grandfather taught me when I was young.”

  My jaw drops. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re serious? You fly fish?”

  “Yeah, do you think that’s strange?”

  “I think it’s awesome. Will you teach me?”

  “Sure, if you want.” She reaches over, puts her hand under my chin and nudges it up until my teeth click. “But you can’t have your mouth open like that. Otherwise you’ll be the one catching all the flies.”

  I grin like a kid who just got a puppy on Christmas morning. I can’t believe I ran into this woman, and she fly fishes. That’s like the neatest thing ever. “What else do you do?” I ask, a measure of excitement going through me.

  “There’s a farm not too far from here. I actually love spending time with the goats, and sometimes I help out making the soap.”

  I stare straight at the road and shake my head. “You’re full of surprises.”

  “In the winter, I ski, downhill and cross country. I make preserves from the berries my grandmother’s friends give me. My grandfather used to have a snowmobile, and I loved taking it out. My friends and I would all go. Jonah’s parents had a cottage…” Her voice falls off, like she’s remembering happy times.

  “I might never leave,” I say, knowing that’s impossible. My life is in Boston and Seattle and I’m on the road more than I’m not.

  “What do you do for fun?” she asks and when I playfully wag my eyebrows in a sexual manner, she whacks me and says, “Besides that.”

  “I like hockey,” I say, and gauge her reaction.

  “I’m not a fan.”

  No shit, otherwise, she might have recognized me.

  “It’s barbaric,” she adds.

  “You’re not wrong,” I say.

  “What did you plan to do while you were here?” she asks. “Netflix and chill?”

  “My thought process is this,” I say without missing a beat. “If that fails me, there’s always fishing and making soap. I’m sort of a goat whisperer.”

  She laughs, hard, and whacks my stomach again. “You probably wouldn’t know a goat if you tripped on
it.”

  “I’ve had mutton before.”

  “Eww, I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Anything but eating cute goats.” Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I suddenly get the feeling that Netflix and chill is an option. On one hand, I want that—I want it so fucking bad my nut sack aches—but on the other I don’t want to fuck this, whatever this is going on between us, up.

  “Right here,” she says when I come across a colorful building with beautifully kept grounds, and elderly people sitting on benches.

  I park, and we exit the vehicle. She frowns when I circle the truck to meet her. “What?” I ask.

  “Grandma, she has dementia, so she might not recognize me at first. I just don’t want you to be alarmed.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  Her smile is in place when we step inside and sign in at the front desk. “She would have loved to talk hockey with you, though. She and granddad were fans.”

  I adjust my ballcap, but I’m sure I have nothing to worry about. I’ve only been playing five years, probably long after she stopped watching. With my head tipped, I follow Alyssa down the long hall and into her grandmother’s room.

  The TV is on, some game show playing, but her grandmother looks like she’s fast asleep. Alyssa checks on the flowers in the vase and plucks a few dead petals before sitting down. She gestures for me to take the chair by the window. I sit, and my heart pinches as I watch her. Her grandmother was obviously a very important person in her life, considering the fact that she visits every night, whether the elderly lady knows it or not. It’s the sweetest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. Alyssa takes her grandmother’s hand, and I shift my chair just to be a little closer.

  “What a day I had, Grandma,” she says and smiles at me. “This city boy who barely knows how to drive hits my trailer. But no worries. No damage done to me or the vehicle.” Her grandmother stirs a bit. “Then he actually helped me plant some fruit trees. He’s a bit bossy and what an ego.”

  “Vincent, is that you?”

  She gives me a pained look. “Vincent was my grandfather’s name,” she says quietly.

  I put a supportive hand on her shoulder, and she tenses for a brief second before giving me a smile full of appreciation.

  “It’s me, Grandma. Alyssa.”

  Her grandmother’s eyes open, and a smile touches her mouth when she gazes at her granddaughter. “Alyssa,” she says. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “How’s your day?” she asks.

  Cloudy blue eyes shift from Alyssa to me, and I swear to god, I see a measure of recognition in them when her gaze zeroes in on me.

  “This is Alek,” Alyssa explains. “He’s the one who accidently hit my trailer. Alek, this is my beautiful grandmother, Rose.”

  “As pretty as your name,” I say and Alyssa leans toward me.

  Rose chuckles.

  “He’s a real charmer,” Alyssa says, and as soon as the words leave her mouth, Rose frowns, her gaze narrowing in on me.

  “I know you,” Rose says.

  “Yes, it’s Alek,” Alyssa explains.

  “Alek. The charmer,” she says and looks down, like she’s going back inside herself, searching for recognition, and my heart lodges somewhere in my throat. This is hard on Rose, but it’s as equally hard on Alyssa, and while I don’t know her, I know enough that I want to make this easier for her—let her lean on me a bit. Not only because I sense she’s as alone and as lonely as her grandmother, but she’s been lifting the load herself for far too long.

  “Would you like me to read to you?” Alyssa asks, and reaches for the book on the nightstand.

  “Yes dear, I’d love that.”

  Alyssa gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I ask, completely confused.

  She holds the book up. “This might be a while.”

  “Alyssa,” I say quietly, moving closer. “Take all the time you want. I have nowhere to be, and I can honestly say, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I saw a vending machine in the lobby. Why don’t I grab us a couple of coffees?”

  “That would be nice, thank you,” she says and the sweet look of pure gratitude on her face fucks me over a bit. Leaving her alone with her grandmother, I fish change from my pocket and walk through the nursing home. A few heads turn my way, but I stare at the floor, and only lift my eyes when I reach the machine. I grab a couple of coffees and head back.

  Surely to God, her grandmother didn’t recognize me. Didn’t put Alek and charmer together to come up with my nickname The Puck Charmer. I shake my head. It has to be impossible. She barely recognized her own granddaughter, and even if she was still watching hockey, playoffs were over months ago.

  I quietly slip back into the room and Alyssa doesn’t miss her stride as she accepts the steaming cup of coffee. I sit back and cross my foot over my leg, closing my eyes as I follow along, but soon realize she’s reading a romance. I grin at that, finding this whole situation completely adorable. After about a half an hour, Rose’s soft breathing sounds fill the room and Alyssa sets the book down.

  “Ready?”

  “Only if you are. I don’t mind staying longer.”

  “She probably needs her rest.” I stand, and Alyssa fixes the flowers in the vase before she leaves, and I follow her out. She’s quiet on the walk to the car, and barely says a word as I drive her back to my place.

  “You’re a good granddaughter,” I say when we reach my front door.

  She smiles. “She was always so good to me.” She places her palm on my cheek. “You were sweet to stay for so long.”

  That’s a funny thing for her to say, considering I never stay anywhere for very long. Eventually I’ll move on. I always do. This town won’t be different from any other I’ve been in.

  Why then, does that idea bounce around inside my stomach like a runaway puck?

  7

  Alyssa

  I awake to a bird chirping outside my window, and my mind instantly goes back to last night, and the way I tossed and turned restlessly in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever had the privilege of sleeping in. I couldn’t settle down after a hard day’s work. Likely because the hottest guy on the planet was in the room next to me, and my imagination was on hyperdrive. The only way I could finally get to sleep was to give in to my imagination and touch myself beneath the warm sheets.

  Seriously though, long before we visited with my grandmother, I had every intention of seducing Alek. Neither of us were hiding the fact that we wanted each other—heck, he told me I gave him a hard on—but when we returned back to his friend’s house, his mood shifted to mellow, and he grew quiet, so different from how he was all day.

  The guy is definitely a contradiction, and I was a little confused by the shift in his behavior, so I left him to his thoughts and called it an early night. Maybe he doesn’t want to start something with me because he’s leaving. Maybe he thinks I’m the type of girl who’s looking for long term. He’d be so wrong about that. Been there done that, and I know better than to expect anyone to stay.

  I roll and wince at the sun streaming in through the crack of the curtain. I might as well get up and get an early start of it. I make a trip to the bathroom, tie my hair back and climb into a fresh pair of overalls. I gather all my things, and plan my escape, figuring I’ll never set eyes on Alek again. I should probably be happy about that. Do I really want to get mixed up with a guy like him? Yeah, I do. But it’s not wise.

  My door creaks when I open it and I wait a second. With the all-clear, I tip toe down the stairs. Before I leave, I dig a few bills from my purse and put them on the table. I search for a notepad and pen and leave him an old-fashioned note. This is better than texting, and I don’t have his number anyway.

  Once finished, I head outside and jump into Moxie. I don’t know why I have this strange sense of betrayal tugging at me. Maybe because I told him I’d stay for twenty-four hours and
I’m sneaking out. But my head is perfectly fine, and I’m no longer dizzy, and he is not responsible for me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time, although I have to admit, it was rather nice having someone care. I head home, and drive past his abandoned car on Main Street. It’s a bit of a walk for him, which is why I left cab money.

  Back at home, I head to the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. As I drink, I make a list of things to do, and print off a few more fliers to hang at the garden center. While they’re printing, I head to the kitchen to make a sandwich, and when I do, I spot my journal peeking out from underneath a stack of papers I keep forgetting to recycle.

  I pull it out and run my hand over the cover. Mixed emotions curl through me as I crack the binding. It’s been a long time since I looked through it. Starting a bucket list was a project in my senior year, and I’ve added to it since then. With another cup of coffee in hand, I drop down into the chair, and grin as I read through my list. A few make me laugh, a few I roll my eyes at, and a few are so ridiculous I wonder why I ever wrote them in the first place. Yeah, no way in hell would I let Alek look through this list. Not that I have to worry about that. I think I left a pretty good message when I snuck out earlier.

  I jump when my printer jams, and tug out the mangled piece of paper. Once I get it going again, I make a sandwich and place it, along with some fruit, into my cooler, and head to Greenleaf to grab a few shrubs that were on backorder for Mrs. Henderson’s garden. I pin my fliers to the board inside. I’m really hoping to get a few more big jobs like Mrs. Henderson’s. They’ll go a long way in paying the bills over the winter when times are tight.

  My cell rings, and my heart jumps, but then I remember Alek doesn’t have my number. My God, I wish I wasn’t so excited thinking it might be him. I slide my hand across the screen, and have a quick conversation with Mr. Fraser, who needs his lawn mowed. I put him on my list of things to do, and go about grabbing bags of fresh soil and fertilizer. Fortunately, Eli is here to help me today. Although, after I ring in my purchases, I suddenly realize I won’t need him to do the heavy lifting.