"I don't interact with people easily," said Michelle.
"Yes, your grandfather told me," said Henry. "I saw him on open house night. He informed me when he realized who I was. I confess I was worried about you coming into my room every morning and acting as a shadow but I find that I don't mind anymore. It also explained to me why you had trouble with communication for a while. I appreciate your help in the mornings."
"I like to help you. Your classroom smells good and you're nice." Michelle took a drink of her water. "I have therapy for my autism every week. I didn't talk until two years ago. Then I had trouble communicate. I still have trouble but I'm getting better. My... therapist says the quirks are normal."
"I think you communicate very well," said Henry. "I have heard you stutter or skip words but not often anymore."
"Do you like Timber?" asked Michelle suddenly.
Henry choked on his root beer. "Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry, I was curious. Part of my weekly therapy is to try and notice more what was happening around me. She looks at you with a smile sometimes when you cross the... no... quad during lunch and I've seen you look at her too."
"Timber is my friend at school and in my personal life," said Henry. "But we're not anything more than that."
"Okay."
"If I may ask," said Henry, "why the eager interest?"
Michelle turned beet red.
"Can I tell you a big secret?" she asked.
"If you trust me, yes."
"I - umm - it's just -" Michelle took a breath. "I - I have a really big crush on Timber." Henry thought he would fall out of his chair. "That's why I wanted to know if you... liked her."
Henry was torn. He knew he had feelings for Timber, but he couldn't tell a fourteen-year-old. If he didn't tell her, however, she would be hurt by Timber if she rejected her offer no matter how nice she was. He weighed his options quickly and sighed.
"If I am sworn to secrecy, then so are you," said Henry. "Yes, I like Timber. I like her very much. I have not told her nor do I plan to. She is my student and any kind of romantic relationship between us would be highly inappropriate."
Michelle nodded and finished her fries. Then Henry helped her with her homework until her grandmother arrived.
"Michelle, thank goodness," she said, looking over Michelle and fussing over her. "Thank you so much for taking care of my granddaughter." She reached into her purse and pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill and handed it to Henry.
"For her meal and your time," she said.
"I'm sorry, I can't accept that," said Henry.
"Don't rob an old woman of her blessing," said the woman. "I will not take no for an answer."
"Thank you," said Henry. He took the money and put it in his front pocket, though he still felt guilty.
He watched Michelle leave and wondered what Timber would do if she was asked out by a girl. He grinned as he imagined her surprise. She wouldn't know how to respond so she would blush and curl her toes under her feet. However, his grin faded as he remembered that the following day was his birthday and it would probably be forgotten again.
.
On the day of Henry's twenty-fourth birthday, Timber woke up at four in the morning. Unable to get back to sleep, she got out of bed, got dressed in a rush, and hurried downstairs as quietly as she could. She went into the kitchen and dug through the pantry looking for flour, sugar, and other ingredients. She was going to make Henry a birthday cake. Timber usually wasn't one to bake cakes. That was left to Emily but this... This was special. This was for Henry. As she started getting the flour and sugar out she began to smile as she thought about the man who could make her heart do cartwheels. No one told her she couldn't like Henry, they only advised against becoming a couple.
She plugged her earphones in her phone, turned up the music and started to dance while she worked on the cake. She just poured the chocolate mix into the cake pan, when she smelled Grace come into the kitchen. Timber stopped dancing and pulled out her earphones when she saw her aunt looking at her in surprise.
"Timber! What in God's green earth are you doin'? It's five o'clock in the mornin' and you're covered in flour, Darlin'."
"It's Henry's birthday today Aunt Grace," announced Timber, proudly holding up her creation. "I made him a cake. Well, now it's a gooey glob of chocolate batter. It'll be a cake when it's finished baking."
"Do you want to talk to me about somethin'?" asked Grace as Timber put the cake in the oven with a gleeful smile and set the timer.
"About what?"
"Henry," said Grace patiently. "You're up before dawn bakin' him a cake when he said he doesn't celebrate his birthday."
"He said he doesn't celebrate his birthday," Timber pointed out as she started making the frosting. "He never said anything about not accepting a cake."
"Okay, let me put this into a question. Why are you up before dawn makin' Henry a birthday cake?"
Timber looked up at Grace with a small smile and tears forming in her eyes.
"I like him," said Timber. "I mean I really, really like him."
"Why are you cryin', Honey?" asked Grace gently.
"Because I can't - I didn't want to. I can't help it. But I can't be with him, even when I turn eighteen."
"Timber- "
"You know I can't! I can't ever be with him. I can't ever be with anyone."
"Timber, your uncle and I have talked a lot about you and Henry over the last week. We've both seen the way you look at him and we figured it was only a matter of time before you realized that you fell in love with him."
"This isn't love, Aunt Grace," said Timber. "Henry and I are simply good friends, that's all."
"Mm-hmm. Well, we've decided to let you break the rules. Not until you're eighteen, though."
"I'm confused."
"We agree that you should show Henry your real form," said Grace. Timber dropped the fork she was mixing the frosting with.
"Are you crazy?" cried Timber. She looked down at the white frosting she was mixing as sadness swept over her face like a rain cloud. "He'll never even look at me again if I do that! No. We're both better off if he doesn't know what I am."
"Alright I'm just puttin' it on the table," said Grace. "Think about it."
Timber looked at Grace. She knew her aunt knew something she wasn't telling her but she did not want to get into a long discussion. The oven beeped and Timber pulled out the chocolate cake. She put it directly on the cooling rack and then into the freezer to let it cool for a minute before she took it out of the pan to frost it.
"Do you want help decoratin' it?" asked Grace.
"No thanks," said Timber. "This cake is going to be all me, no matter how bad it looks."
"Can I help you clean up?"
"Yes, please," said Timber with a grin. "That you can do."
Timber put the earphones back in and set to work. She took the cake from the freezer and began frosting it. She tried to make it smooth, like how they did it in the bakery but it wasn't turning out the way she had hoped. After five minutes of quietly arguing angrily with the frosting and listening to her aunt laugh at her, she surrendered and settled for lumps. She wrote on the top of the cake 'Happy Birthday Henry' in bright red. When she finished, she smiled at the cake. It was not as pretty as it would have been if Emily had done it but this cake was made with Timber's heart.
Her alarm went off on her phone telling her that it was time to get ready for school and she ran upstairs to change. She forgot all about her aunt who had finished cleaning up without Timber noticing. She changed into a clean blue sweater, her heavy pea coat, and jeans. She put on her usual makeup and put her hair into a high ponytail before putting on her jewelry. She put on her knee-high boots and brushed her teeth as fast as possible. When she finished, she grabbed her monogrammed backpack and ran down the stairs. Grace was just grabbing her purse when Timber threw herself at her aunt.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for cleaning up after me."
"You're welcome," said
Grace. "I have to leave for work. Don't forget the cake. Have a good day, Timber."
Timber went to the kitchen and gently picked up the cake. She knew Henry would be leaving in ten minutes so she decided to surprise him early. She couldn't wait to see him anymore. She followed Grace out of the door and watched her get in her car. Timber shivered.
Timber exhaled and watched her breath float away from her in rolling clouds of smoke like air. She walked across the street to Henry's small white house and knocked on the door hoping he would hurry because she needed to button her coat but she couldn't do it while holding a cake. She heard footsteps coming from the back of the house and a moment later, the door opened. Henry appeared to be a little ill and his normally alert eyes were tired and weary. There were dark circles under his eyes that had gotten darker over the last few days.
"Timber," said Henry with a heavy breath. "Come inside before you freeze." Timber stepped inside and Henry shut the door. It was delightfully warm inside Henry's house. She smiled gratefully as he turned to her again. "I told you I don't celebrate -"
"When I asked you if I could make you a cake, you never said no," said Timber. "I know it's not very pretty, but it should taste alright. I've been working on it since four thirty so it had better taste good. It's chocolate."
"Timber, please put the cake down," said Henry with an odd look on his face.
Confused, she set the cake on the side table and made sure it wouldn't fall. When she faced Henry again, she got a huge surprise. Henry threw his arms around her neck and broke down completely. He collapsed to the floor in tears bringing Timber down with him. She didn't know what to do at first, but then she thought of Emily. She wrapped him up in her arms and stroked the back of his head like Emily did for her eight years ago. She rested her head on his and closed her eyes.
She never took Henry as the type of man to break down and cry. He was too tough and too strong but something about her simple gesture had broken him. Timber knew that Henry had a rough childhood. He almost never spoke of his family, his childhood memories, or where he grew up. When she tried, his face darkened and he would change the subject. Did she accidentally remind him of something he was trying to forget?
"I - can't - I tried. I can't do it... Not anymore," whispered Henry.
Timber didn't understand what he meant, but she couldn't say anything. Words failed her completely as the emotional weight of Henry's tears crushed her. Her heart ached for him. It felt like it was being squeezed as hard as cold bare hands could squeeze. Her heart began to grow heavy with the realization that she could do nothing to ease the hurt that was tearing Henry apart from the inside.
When he pulled away, he wiped his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. "I'm sorry. No one has ever made me a cake before. You made me the happiest I have been in years."
Timber hugged him tight for a moment and savored the smell of his cologne. Then she lovingly pushed back a few stray strands of hair off of his forehead. "What about your mom?" she asked.
"My mom stopped celebrating my birthday when I turned seven. That's when - when I got sick."
"Henry I'm so sorry," said Timber. As she studied his eyes she got the feeling that Henry was hiding something from her, but she didn't care. She was hiding her secret from him.
"Well, I should put this in the refrigerator for later," said Henry as though he had not just finished crying.
He got to his feet, grabbed the cake and went to the back of the house to his kitchen. Timber buttoned up her coat and took her new gloves out of her pocket to put them on. She took a look around his living room. She had never been inside his house before but with the small amount of furniture he had, it looked larger than it was. The front of the house was a small family room with an electric fireplace beside a doorway that led to the kitchen and dining room. Timber could see the hallway going to what she was sure was the only bedroom. Henry's house looked like a bachelor pad but it smelled like lavender. Timber liked it. She was looking at some pictures on the mantel when she heard Henry come in.
"My family," he said noticing her attention. "My mom, my dad, my big brother, me, and my little sister. I don't have time to tell you about them all now. We need to get going or we'll be late."
He and Timber walked outside into the cold and made their way to the campus. Timber was looking at the man beside her and thinking to herself how amazing he looked in his black leather jacket. He was bringing his own personal style into his work wardrobe bit by bit and she liked it.
They were talking about Timber's failings in softball and Henry was laughing at her dramatizations. They made it only two blocks when the wind shifted, making Timber stop dead as the color faded from her face. Her stomach wrenched in knots, and the chill in the air made the act of shivering painful.
"Something is wrong," she said quietly. Her heart was thumping like a bass drum in a band, and it echoed in her ears. "This isn't right."
"What is it?" asked Henry, and he too sniffed the air and scrunched his face in disgust and worry. Realizing that Timber saw him, he stiffened and straightened his face.
"We're being followed." Timber sniffed the air again. She knew who it was by the foul smell of soggy newspapers, old beer cans, cigarettes, and rotting fall leaves but there was a smell around him that Timber didn't recognize. "I'm very sure Greg isn't far behind us but something about his scent is off. It's not a smell I know. Don't turn around, keep walking. I know what my uncle said but please hold my hand. I'm frightened."
Henry grabbed her hand and Timber relaxed almost at once and her heart slowed to a normal pace. They walked like that in tense silence until they were a block away from the school and the stench had dissipated. Timber let go of his hand and took a deep breath to completely relax her nerves.
"Do not walk home without me today," said Henry firmly.
"Trust me, I won't."
They said goodbye on the front steps and Timber went to meet her friends while Henry went to his classroom. Timber found the girls at the usual table in the main quad. They saw her and waved, but Timber noticed immediately that their faces went from happiness to concern when they saw her.
"Timber, are you alright?" asked Xianna when Timber got closer to the group. "You're so pale. I know you're usually pale but normally you have color in your cheeks when it's cold."
"I'm fine. I had a rough walk here," she said. "You remember me telling you about that creepy guy, Greg? The guy that lives on my street." The girls nodded. "I'm pretty sure he was following us this morning."
"That's not - wait. Who's us?" asked Gina looking up from her book.
"Henry and I," said Timber. Then she suddenly realized her error and she was never going to hear the end of it. She had inadvertently backed herself against a wall.
"Who is Henry?" asked Kendra.
"Mr. Santelli," replied Timber. She braced herself for a very loud noise of squealing. Instead, she was met with silence. After a tense ninety seconds, Xianna spoke.
"You're dating our history teacher? Is that why he's off-limits?"
"We're not dating," said Timber defensively. "He lives across the street from me. It's convenient to walk together."
"Yet you're still on a first-name basis," said Kendra, folding her arms. "I don't think convenience has anything to do with it."
"Look, we met over the summer when he saved me from Greg. I was grabbed and Henry came to my rescue. We became friends before he was even my teacher."
"Do you like him?" asked Gina. "We know you can't lie Timber, so you might as well just spill it."
Timber sighed and nodded. The girls broke out in joyous laughter but stopped almost immediately because Timber was starting to cry. All of them knew Timber didn't cry. Timber couldn't cry. Yet there she was with silent tears streaming down her pale cheeks. They gathered closer to her and held her.
"Timber, Honey, are you alright?" asked Xianna with a tone of worry. "Are you broken?"
"No, I'm not broken," said Timber even though she was still cryi
ng. "It's just ... since I've known Henry, I feel more relaxed. You've known me for years and I love you all to pieces but there's something about Henry. He's different. He makes me feel things I've never felt before and it's making me lose my mind. You know how I don't bake? Well, it's his birthday today and guess what I was doing at four thirty this morning? I was baking him a cake. I don't know what I'm feeling or if I'm just going insane. Help me out here guys because I'm lost."
The four girls exchanged glances and stared at Timber who was now weeping into her gloves. They wrapped her up in their arms tighter and waited until she calmed down.
"Timber, I know you keep saying that you're going to end up an old maid, but I have some news for you," said Ashley. "You're in love."
Timber looked up at her. "What? No, I'm not."
"Timber, you made him a birthday a cake at four in the morning," said Gina as though Timber should have realized it already.
"You're protective of him," said Xianna. "I know because every time I flirt with him in front of you, you're glaring daggers at me to back off. That's not an expression I've ever seen on you."
"You smile at him when you see him," said Kendra. "Every single time."
"Face it Timber," said Ashley. "You're in love with Mr. Santelli."
Timber pondered what they had said and it made sense. Without realizing it, she had fallen in love. As she came to terms with that fact, another thought hit her. That part of her that was not human but almost pure animal made it impossible for her to even be with anyone on a romantic level. She could not risk being discovered and if she did enter into a relationship with Henry, he would find out when she got sick because her body would transform and expose her real identity. He would be frightened and she would never see him again. Unless...
The panic she was feeling must have shown on her face because Xianna hugged her and said, "Being in love isn't something to worry about. It's a good thing."
"Even if I did, he could never love me back. Look at me compared to you guys. You are all beautiful and with amazing bodies. I'm a five foot four overweight blob with a mane of frizzy hair."
The Timber Effect Page 9