by Jo Noelle
***
Apple Blossom Cottage is empty and dark this morning. With a flip of the switch, the carpet sparkles like sunlight on water, but it’s thousands of glass shards from the shattered windows. I drag in the Shop-Vac and turn it on. Once all the glass is gone, I’ll clean up the rest of the damage.
I’m up earlier than usual—earlier than Cole. That never happens, but it will give me a couple hours to clean up the cottage so I can start repairs after my shift today.
A little chill of worry skitters through my thoughts. When I first came here, I had the promise of a great job to go to. Then I had the opportunity to win this place and use my degree to work in a place of my own. Either one would have been a dream come true.
Then the cottage is ruined, and I’ll have a hard time finishing it before the end of the contest. On the heels of that, my safety net job in Idaho evaporates. I’ve got nothing. I can’t dwell on those though. They’re both history. I’ve got to move forward and try to win.
Time flies and by breakfast, I’ve only accomplished vacuuming glass—from every room in the cottage. Getting back on schedule with the renovation is going to take longer than I hoped.
Cole is halfway finished with his omelet when I enter Uncle Walter’s kitchen. I sit across from him with my yogurt and fruit as Uncle Walter walks in and grabs a plate.
“I’ll have some time tonight. How can I help with the cottage?” Cole asks between bites.
I feel like I’ve been a fish flopping on the beach this summer. I don’t want to hurt Cole—I want Cole. I want to stay here—I’m probably leaving. Do no harm—I’m in love with Cole. My decision to fix it myself isn’t about winning. I want to see what I can do. I want to prove it to myself that I deserve to be here, that I could make a great owner.
“Thanks, Cole, but I don’t need help. I’ve got it.” I swivel in my seat so I don’t have to see the glare Uncle Walter is giving me. “It’s something I need to do on my own.”
“Well, my offer stands. Let me know if I can help.”
When Uncle Walter sets his plate beside mine and drops into the next chair, I know he wants to talk about it. But I just answer Cole. “I will. Thanks for the offer.”
Without saying a word, Uncle Walter throws his hands in the air, then murmurs to the ceiling, “I’ll probably die before they figure it out.” He leaves the room without eating.
I catch the movement out of the corner of my eye, but I’m not going to have a conversation about it and pop my hand up between me and Cole. “Don’t go there.”
Cole’s hands raise in surrender. “Have it your way.” His voice softens. “You don’t have to do everything alone. You could trust me. What if I just help you get the place back to where it was when the damage occurred? I could patch holes and paint baseboard, that kind of thing.”
“I don’t…” Every competition we’ve had, we’ve been on opposing sides. This summer has been different. We haven’t really been working against each other so much as toward the same goal. Even with the first contest, he delivered my baskets. He didn’t have to—he did it to help me complete my goal.
“Yeah, okay.” I draw in a quick breath and kiss his cheek. “Just this once.”
Maybe if I let myself dream, this could be what it’s like to build a life with Cole.