Which he had done.
Now, somehow, he had to talk to her, but he couldn’t walk, couldn’t dance, couldn’t even get her a drink.
So, he continued to sit in the corner, his leg duly propped up, frustration burning in his chest.
After what felt like hours, but was more like fifteen minutes, McKoy strolled over, carrying two cups.
“Hey, Gator. I’m kind of surprised you even came. Didn’t the doc say to stay off that foot?” McKoy handed him one of the two cups he carried.
“Thanks.” Gator took the drink. “Couldn’t miss Avery’s party. Even if I can’t participate.”
“What’s up with you two, anyway?”
“Meaning?”
“It was pretty obvious yesterday that there’s something there. Are you two a thing?”
Gator thought about hedging, but figured there was no point. “I’d like to be. But we need to talk and it’s pretty much obviously not going to happen tonight.” He took a sip of his drink while watching Avery. She led his mother to the dance floor. The mayor came up beside them and spoke. Avery smiled, while his mother laughed.
“I think your mother is blushing,” McKoy said, his drink hovering half-way to his mouth.
“I guess the mayor is about her age.”
“Younger, actually. But your mother has always acted much younger than she is. I remember that from high school.” Shaking his head, McKoy downed his punch in a few swallows.
“Yeah. She’s a good woman.” McKoy didn’t know about his mother and his history. There had never been any need to tell him. Still wasn’t.
As the hours dragged by, Avery came over several times to check on him, but each time she was pulled away by someone who needed more food, or help with the music, or new candles to replace the ones that gutted out. She was everywhere. Laughing with guests, while keeping everything behind the scenes running smoothly, she balanced the role of party coordinator like a pro. If only he could help her, but at least he got to watch and admire.
As midnight rolled around, the mayor came to Gator’s corner and asked if it was okay if he took Mrs. Franks home. Slightly flummoxed, Gator stammered out a yes. It worked out well, since fatigue darkened his mother’s laugh lines, and she would have had to wait for Avery to take her, since Gator couldn’t.
A small army of people gathered up the leftover food, but Avery shooed away anyone who tried to clean up, saying that she’d get it in the morning.
After standing at the door, talking to Fink and Ellie for a good twenty minutes, Avery floated to his side. The candles had been blown out, and the overhead lights were turned off, but the strings of Christmas lights still flickered. Silent Night played in the background.
He smiled up into her glowing face. “I think you can call your party a success.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I wanted to recreate your mother’s engagement party. I think it worked. Actually, the mayor was really paying close attention to her this evening.”
“I noticed.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry about your foot.” She sat beside him.
“Yeah.” He dropped his arm around her back and she lay her head on his shoulder. “You were amazing tonight. Everything you did was amazing.” He indicated the still-beautiful decorations and the empty barn floor.
“Do you really think so?”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I do. And I think that everyone that was here tonight feels the same.”
“Fink and Ellie asked me if I would accept a position of events coordinator on the farm. Part-time, as needed, of course.”
“Wow. That’s great,” Gator said cautiously. She could probably do that from D.C.
“Fink wanted to talk to you because he’d already asked you to tear the barn down, but I told him if you had any problem with it at all, I’d hold off until it was resolved.”
He’d managed to put his mother’s financial problems out of his mind. The job he’d been working on would take care of some of it. Enough to keep it out of collections. Then he’d just keep chipping at the rest.
“Your mom was kind of the person of honor tonight. There was a jar for donations for her medical bills.”
“Oh really?” That was news to him.
“Yeah. Several businessmen and the mayor made substantial donations. Jillian and Ellie are going to count it and let us know.”
His chest was suddenly too small to hold the fullness of his heart. “That’s great,” he managed to say.
He turned in his chair and took Avery by the shoulders, making her face him. “You were beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you.” She blushed and looked down.
He took a finger and pushed her chin up.
“I love you.”
Her eyes grew big.
“I love the way your heart is in serving others. How you enter a room and make it better just by your presence. How you’re funny and sweet and sassy and I wish I could have participated in your party tonight. Holding you would have made it perfect for me.”
“I love you too. That’s what I was trying to tell you. Fink and Ellie offered me a job. It’s only part time, but if I can book the barn and fill up the calendar, I can work myself into full time. In the meantime, there’s a music opening at a private school not far away that Fink just told me about. He can give me a recommendation, and I might not get it, but…”
“I don’t want you to give up your dream.”
“I’ve realized that playing in a symphony isn’t my dream anymore. I can’t move to Montana, but I’ll be here when you come to visit your mother.”
“I’m not going back to Montana.”
She tilted her head.
“I gave my notice today.”
Her head swung back and forth slowly. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing, right now.” He indicated his leg. “But Bret offered me a job with his construction company, and I’d been tossing around the idea of opening up my Pap’s old fish hatchery. He did construction and raised fish on the side. It’s what made me go into conservation to begin with.”
“But you liked your job. Didn’t you?”
His hand cupped her cheek. “I like you more.”
“But I don’t want you to have to give up your job for me,” she cried.
“You know. Maybe being married once helped me to see things a little more clearly. But I see it like this: I made the mistake of thinking that a woman who was just like me would make the best partner for me. In hindsight, it’s obvious that I missed the red flags I should have seen. I didn’t notice the defects in her personality because I was focused on our hobbies and interests. With that in mind, I don’t think it’s nearly as important that we share the same interests—we can learn to like each other’s pastimes. Your character is what is so attractive to me.” He grinned. “That, and you’re a darn good kisser.”
“No. I definitely need to practice kissing.”
“No better time than the present.” He lowered his head.
Epilogue
A small brass ensemble played wedding music which drifted into the small room that used to be a granary. Chairs had been set up, filling the newly renovated barn floor. Not only had the insurance paid for the new roof, but the money had included new beams and a new floor. In all, it was over half of the cost of the renovations.
Avery patted Gladys and Finch on their heads. Since she didn’t have a dad, Fink had volunteered to walk her down the aisle. But after talking about it, Gator and she had decided there really wasn’t anyone to give her away. So Gladys and Finch were going to escort her to her groom.
She peeked in the door. Gator stood at the front, his foot completely healed. The doctor had given him the go-ahead to take his boot off last week.
McKoy Rodning stood beside him as best man. They’d decided to keep the wedding party small and intimate.
Everyone was seated. Mrs. Franks sat beside Fink and Ellie and their children in the front row. A few guests checked the time on their phones.
If Avery had hers, she’d be doing the same.
Where was Jillian?
She’d been there, helping Avery arrange her dress, not five minutes ago. She’d seemed a little flustered and Avery had asked her if everything was okay. She’d said it was.
Suddenly, the door to the old granary flew open and Jillian flew in. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Avery said. She hadn’t minded the extra few moments to reflect on the huge step she was taking, too quickly, some said. “I knew there was something wrong. Tell me.”
Jillian bit her lip. She glanced toward the barn floor despite the fact that the door was closed. “McKoy Rodning is the animal control officer.”
“I know that. He’s also the best man. And he’s waiting on us.”
Jillian pulled both her lips between her teeth and bit down. She drew in a shaky but determined breath. “There’s an elephant in the barnyard.”
Avery blinked. “I’m sorry. I thought you said there’s an elephant in the barnyard.”
“I did.”
Avery put her hand on Jillian’s forehead. The flu season had been mild until the beginning of March. Jillian obviously had a fever. A high one.
But her forehead was cold. “You are hallucinating, honey.” She put a hand on her hip. “Are you doing drugs?”
“Please. You can’t tell anyone.” She swallowed, then spoke fast. “I’ll walk up the aisle. This is your wedding day and I love you. I want it to be so beautiful. But I need to hide her. Her name’s Heidi, by the way, and she’s the sweetest thing.”
“The elephant is Heidi?”
“Yes, we were in Mexico together. I worked with her for years.” Jillian shook her head. “I don’t have time to explain. I’ll stand beside you. But I need to leave.”
“Just go. This is relaxed anyway. No one will care.”
“McKoy will notice. We didn’t have a rehearsal, but he still knows I’m supposed to be there.”
“I’ll say you were hallucinating.” Which could very well be true. “But I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“Avery, you can’t keep an elephant in your backyard. It’s illegal. They’ll take her. McKoy will take her.”
Avery fingered her pearl earrings. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She smoothed her hands down her dress. “But come on. The next thing I’m going to do is watch my best friend get married to the most perfect man in the world for her.” Jillian opened the door and started out. “Don’t forget to smile,” she whispered as she started down the aisle.
Like that would happen. Just looking at Gator made her grin. And when he caught sight of her standing in the open doorway, his teeth flashed in his tanned face.
Avery took a deep breath through her nose, smelling the scent of new wood and polish. The brass band began to play her song and she stepped out, toward the man whom she knew would never leave, toward the rest of her life.
THE END
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HARVEST MOON HOMECOMING SNEAK PEEK
Fink vowed to stop the chaos.
He glanced at the large Roman numeral clock on the wall of his office. With narrowed eyes, he turned back to stare out the big picture window overlooking the main entrance to the small Pennsylvania school.
Monday morning. Eight forty-three. Any minute now.
He straightened his tie, then drummed his fingers on the desk. This had gone on long enough, and he was going to put a stop to it. Today.
As if his determination had conjured it, the old blue Ford F-150 shot into view. Smoke billowed out of the tailpipe. The roar and rumble of the motor shook the window glass. No muffler. Rubber squealed and the passenger-side wheels lifted from the pavement as the truck careened around the turn. The two heads inside the cab bobbled and jerked. As the truck slowed, the cloud of smoke engulfed it. It lurched to a stop with the front passenger tire on the sidewalk.
Mr. Finkenbinder frowned and rubbed the side of his nose. He could never figure out whether Mrs. Bright parked that way on purpose, or if it was truly an accident every time.
He turned to the solid glass wall on his right. With all the privacy of a goldfish Mr. Finkenbinder would never be accused of any impropriety.
Three, two, one. Mrs. Bright barreled around the corner, her wild brown hair waving like Medusa’s snakes, her hot pink pajama bottoms churning, her large orange T-shirt rippling like a flag in the wind, her Muck boots clomping against the freshly waxed floor.
“Hurry up, Harper. We’re late.” The frightful woman turned to her daughter, who trailed behind her, unfazed. A small pang of envy zipped through his chest. How did such a crazy, irresponsible woman have such an organized, obedient daughter? And why, in the name of all that was holy, did the nephew who had been dropped on his doorstep this fall have to be more like Mrs. Bright than her daughter?
“Crap, I forgot paper for a note.” Mrs. Bright stopped and slapped her forehead.
Harper tapped her mother’s shoulder and handed her the sheet she carried on top of her neatly stacked books.
“Oh, you’re wonderful, Harper. Thanks,” she gushed. As if Harper didn’t do that every Monday morning.
Jordon Swoop raced by the window, screeched to a stop, backed up, and tapped Mr. Finkenbinder’s window. “Are you lifting tonight, Mr. F?”
He gave the kid a small smile and nodded. Jordon’s grades had been high enough to keep him eligible for sports since last winter, but he was still holding Mr. Finkenbinder to the deal they’d made—Mr. Finkenbinder would help him with his academics and Jordon would be his lifting partner.
Jordon gave a thumbs-up and hustled away.
Mr. Finkenbinder had lost sight of Mrs. Bright and her daughter as they entered the office, blocked by one of the nonglass walls. But when they stepped up to the counter in the office, he could again see the odd pair through the window in his door. His nostrils flared and his smile disappeared.
He reached for the intercom on his desk and depressed the button. “Mrs. Herschel?”
“Yes, Mr. Finkenbinder?”
“Once you have authorized the late excuse and administered the tardy notice, would you please send Mrs. Bright into my office?” He looked down, adjusting the single sheet of paper on his pristine desk, but out of his peripheral vision, he sensed Mrs. Bright turn and stare straight at him. His big wall clock ticked seven times before he lifted his eyes and met hers, which were a startling blue.
She spun around.
“I don’t have time to meet with that pompous donkey today.”
Because his door was cracked and her voice was raised, he heard her quite plainly. He could have yelled out the door to Mrs. Herschel. Some might say he should have since this was a small country school with none of the metal detectors, door locks, and ID cards that other, larger schools had acquired in the last decade. The atmosphere of the school was casual. Mr. Finkenbinder didn’t do casual.
He depressed the button of the intercom again.
“Mrs. Herschel?”
“Yes, Mr. Finkenbinder?”
“If Mrs. Bright should find her schedule too full to grace me with her presence in my office”—Mr. Finkenbinder could hardly believe he’d used Mrs. Bright’s name and grace in the same sentence, but there it was. English was a complicated language—”you may dismiss her and assign her daughter to Room One for two hours of after-school detention.”
“Yes, Mr. Finkenbinder.”
This time Mrs. Bright whipped around and yanked open his door. It banged against the doorstop and lurched back, smacking her in the temple. She tended to lead with her head, as if she had horns.
She swore. At him or the door. Maybe both.
He did not look up, using the pencil in his hand to make a short remark about nothing on th
e paper in front of him, noting the scent of fresh pine filling his office.
Ten ticks of the clock. He glanced up. “Oh, Mrs. Bright. Why, you found time in your schedule to see me after all? How nice. Do come in.”
She walked in and slammed the door.
“Please sit down.” He gestured toward the two metal chairs facing his desk.
“Let’s not pretend we like each other, Fink,” she said with saccharine sweetness as she swiped a Tootsie Roll from the container on his desk and plopped down.
Mr. Finkenbinder managed not only to withhold his growl, but to also plaster a pleasant, bland smile on his face. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Bright.” He straightened the Tootsie Roll container so it aligned properly with the corner of his desk.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
He noted the nasty red swelling on the side of her head and squelched the compassion threatening to trickle up into his heart. Any sign of weakness on his part would give a woman like this too much of an advantage.
“Since I became principal of this school last year, I have noticed that almost every morning you arrive with your daughter at least thirty minutes late. Once or twice we could allow to slide by, but your daughter is missing important instruction in her first period class. You do want what is best for your daughter, Mrs. Bright?”
“Actually, no. I was thinking about chaining her to the railroad tracks on my way home tonight, Fink.”
He set the pencil down with a snap, perfectly parallel with the edge of the paper, and refrained from commenting on her striking resemblance to a fire-breathing dragon.
Mrs. Bright popped the Tootsie Roll into her mouth, threw the wrapper on his desk, and grabbed another piece of candy. Did she deliberately move the container? Only a slight bump, but his entire desk felt crooked now.
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