by Shay Savage
“I’ll take you home,” Nate says. “I stopped drinking long before you ladies did.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “What about my car?”
“Good excuse for me to see you again in the morning,” he says. “I’ll bring your car in time for you to get to work, and Antony can follow me. No big deal.”
Nate leads me to the garage, and I let out a gasp when I realize just how big it is. It’s clearly an addition and goes back much farther than I could see from the front of the house. There are eight cars inside, all of them outlandish looking. I know very little about cars, but some cars just look insanely expensive, and all of these have that vibe.
Nate leads me to the ridiculous electric sports car and helps me inside. He drives slowly and silently, and I get the idea he wants to say something.
“Thank you for insisting I join you tonight,” I say. “I had a wonderful time. I love your family!”
“I’m really glad to hear you say that,” Nate replies softly. “They liked you, too, Nora especially, and she’s not an easy one.”
“She seems very protective of you.”
“We’re protective of each other.” Nate glances at me briefly before looking back at the road. “You were talking for a long time. I could infer what she was telling you about from her expression. That’s not a typical topic of conversation for her right after meeting someone.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” I twiddle my fingers in my lap. “What a horrible thing to go through!”
“For us as well,” Nate says softly. “I had never been so angry in my life. When I walked into that joke of a police station and saw her…well, I might have put my fist through a wall. She was a mess. Her nose had been broken, her clothes all torn up, and she had bruises everywhere. She ended up taking one of those pills to prevent pregnancy. That was hard on her, too.” He stops a moment, swallowing hard and licking his lips. “I’ll always regret not finding those guys myself.”
“Nora says they just disappeared.”
“They did. According to some of their associates, they were hiding out on a nearby island chain, went out on their boat, and then their boat turned up floating in the water, out of gas and devoid of people. No one knows what happened to them, and that pisses me off.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted them all to die horribly for what they did to Nora.” Nate swallows again, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“No, it doesn’t. I can understand why you would feel that way.”
Nate reaches over, takes my hand in his, and sighs heavily. He pulls into the parking lot for my building and stops near my door. He grips my hand a little tighter.
“I want to tell you something,” he whispers.
“Okay.” I angle myself toward him.
“I’m going to sound like I’m crazy.” Nate looks down, shaking his head.
“Nate, just say it.”
He takes a couple of long breaths but won’t meet my eyes.
“I like you, Cherry,” he says quietly. “I really like you. I know we only just met, but you’re…” He shakes his head, unable to go on.
“I’m what?”
Nate lets out another long breath.
“Do you know what the women in this town see when they look at me?”
I start to open my mouth to say something about his good looks, but I get the idea that’s not the sort of thing he means.
“I guess not.”
“The guy with the family name and the money to go with it. Every woman I’ve dated, including in high school, were all about the money and what I could do for them. They didn’t give a shit about me. They never asked me about my family, what I want in life—any of that stuff we’ve been talking about—not ever. They just wanted to be that girl who’s dating Nataniele Orso. It’s all about the name.”
“I have to admit, I don’t even understand all of that.”
“You haven’t lived here long enough.”
“Maybe.” I think about it for a moment. “I’m not sure that would make any difference.”
“I’m not sure it would either,” Nate replies. “You’re not like that. Unless I’m completely reading everything wrong, you seem genuinely interested in me—me as an actual person.”
“Of course I am!” I look into his eyes, wondering how he could think otherwise. “Honestly, Nate, I wish you didn’t have all the money and notoriety around here. All of that makes me rather nervous.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He chuckles. “It’s why I haven’t offered to buy you a new car.”
“What?” My mouth drops open. He cannot be serious.
“That Civic is about to fall apart.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s perfectly fine for what I need. Don’t you dare—”
“I won’t! I swear!” Nate laughs. “See? I knew you’d react that way.” He shakes his head, still snickering. “That’s what makes you so different from anyone I’ve ever dated before. You remember when you asked me about bad dates, and I said I hadn’t had any?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I never had any good ones, either. Not until I met you, and you took a crappy first dinner date and fixed it with a peanut butter sandwich.”
“And then you brought me pancakes.” I smile, warming myself to the memory. Though it had only been last weekend, it feels like long ago.
“I’ve never done that before,” Nate says. “I’ve never wanted to see a girl the very next morning, cook her breakfast and all of that. It never even occurred to me before, but I wanted to do it. I was glad to do it for you.”
I blush and look away, but Nate reaches out and puts his fingers on my chin, turning me back toward him and staring into my eyes.
“You are incredible,” he says. “You suffered a loss that would have devastated other people, but you moved to a completely new place with this determination and fearlessness that amazes me. You’re sweet and kind and thoughtful. You always make the best of a bad situation, and I know you can handle anything life throws at you. I was in shambles after the loss of my brother—I still am, really—but with you, well, I feel like maybe I can deal with it.”
Nate pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. I press my lips together, wanting to respond but also realizing he’s not finished yet.
“I’m…I’m falling for you, Cherry. Like, falling hard. I’ve never felt like this before. That’s why I stopped you that first night. I was afraid it had just…well, that it had just been too long since I’d been with someone, and it was a matter of lust, but that’s not it, Cherry. Even then, I didn’t want it to be about that.”
My stomach does a flip-flop. My heart starts pounding so fast, I’m afraid it will leap from my chest and break the windshield of the pricey automobile. It doesn’t. Instead, it reveals itself through my words.
“I think I feel the same way, Nate.”
When his lips press against mine, the world around us disappears.
Chapter 15—Finally
“I’m sick of seeing you there!” I know he can’t hear me, but I’m seriously tempted to roll down my window and give the guy in front of the fire hydrant the finger. If Nate were here, he’d have done it for me.
I smile at the thought of him, the illegally parked car forgotten as I head inside my apartment after my early morning shopping. I’ve been so busy at work; I woke to find out I didn’t even have milk or cereal for breakfast. As I put a few things away, I realize Vee’s leaves are curling up, so I place her in the sink and turn on the water.
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind.
Between weekly family dinners, Nate has taken me on road trips all over Ohio. We visited the natural history museum in Cincinnati, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, and the Center of Science and Industry in Columbus. He’s taken me on hikes through Hocking Hills, which may be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and didn’t seem to mind when I spent far too much time examining a particular
fern growing from the side of a rock or a hemlock tree barely holding on to the edge of a rocky cliff.
“I think we’ve been to every single establishment in town, Vee.” I chuckle as I give Vee a good watering, including misting her leaves. I carefully clip off a couple of yellowing ones. “All the restaurants—except the one we went to on our first date, of course—all the bars, coffee shops, and bookstores.”
Vee soaks up the water I pour over her, unimpressed by my exploits.
“We’ve hiked every trail in the maple forest. It hasn’t been warm enough to take the boat out on the lake yet, but Nate says maybe in a couple of weeks. We’ve been everywhere.” I think about this for a moment and then scowl. “Except the damn bedroom, of course.”
On that front, I’m beyond frustrated.
I’m the first to admit that dropping hints about wanting to sleep with someone might not be my strong point, but seriously, I thought all guys were supposed to be horny all the time. On the one hand, I know Nate’s attracted to me. When he kisses me, my stomach does somersaults and my toes curl up. Sometimes when he’s pressed against my stomach or thigh, I can feel how much he wants me. On the other hand, he never takes it any further. More than once, I’ve thought about asking him outright, but then I think better of it. Nora said he was very Catholic though he hasn’t talked about religion. Maybe he wants to wait. Maybe—God forbid—he has a medical condition he hasn’t told me about. It would embarrass him for me to come out and ask before he’s ready to tell me, so thus far, I’ve said nothing.
I let the excess water drain from Vee’s pot into the sink, then give the whole thing a bit of a shake to get rid of the excess water. One green branch flies out of the pot and onto the floor.
“Oh no!” Apparently, my trimming wasn’t as careful as I thought.
I pick up the perfectly healthy green stem with three leaves attached and scowl at it. I start to add it to the pile for the trash but stop short.
“No reason I can’t try to get some roots on you. Then I could just plant you back in the same pot.”
I find a water glass, fill it, and place the cutting into the glass. I set the glass on the small windowsill above the kitchen sink.
“That should get you a little extra sunshine. Will you be warm enough there for a while? Spring will be here soon enough.”
My phone dings, and my heart beats faster. I know it’s Nate.
Nate O: How’s my Cherice today?
I’m good. Giving Vee a little TLC
Nate O: You’re having conversations with your plant again, aren’t you?
Are you making fun of me?
Nate O: Never! It was autocorrect.
Riiiiiight…
Nate O: Still on for this morning’s festivities?
Absolutely!
Nate O: Festival starts at 10. I’ll pick you up about 9:45, ok?
Perfect.
Nate O: See you soon, cherice
Today is the first day of Cascade Falls’ Maple Syrup Festival, and I’m really looking forward to it. Banners have been hanging all over town advertising the event, and I’m anxious to taste the fruits of my recent labors. I’d spent the better part of the month helping the workers from the factory choose which trees to tap for sap, and I’m excited to watch the process of converting it to syrup and sugar candy.
Nate arrives just on time, but I’m not quite ready.
“Give me just one second!” I say as I race off to the bathroom. I hate porta potties, and that’s all there will be out there.
“What happened to the plant?” Nate asks when I come back, indicating the little glass with the pothos trimming.
“Well, I guess I got a little overzealous when giving Vee a haircut,” I reply with a laugh. “It should take root and become a whole other plant.”
“Your knowledge continues to astound me.”
“Ha! Hardly. Really, you should be astounded that I have managed to keep poor Vee alive at all. My schedule has been crazy!”
“It should settle down in a couple of weeks,” Nate says. “Once the festival is over, you might find yourself getting bored.”
“Melissa hasn’t been forthcoming in exactly what my duties will be once the festival is over. All the tapping has been done, so I don’t need to evaluate any other trees. I did a lot with preparation for the festival, but I’m not actually working any of it. That’s all being done by people at the maple syrup plant.”
“Did you watch them set up all the old-school maple syrup boiling?”
“I did! I helped set up a giant cauldron. It should be boiling syrup over a fire as we speak. I can’t wait to see the whole process. Did you know all the sap is gravity fed to the sugar shack?”
“I did.” Nate grins at me and raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah. I suppose you’ve seen this all before.” I’m a little disappointed but try not to show it.
Nate wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head.
“I have, but it’s always fun. Watching you see the whole festival for the first time will make it even better!”
Nate drives us out to the woods. As we come around a steep curve, I see a multitude of tents lined up in the marina parking lot. People are swarming everywhere though the festival just opened a few minutes ago.
“I can’t believe everything they’ve done since yesterday!” I say as Nate pulls up to the very front of the line, parking in what is obviously not a real parking space.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he says. “Half those tents are full of food.”
He isn’t lying. Every local restaurant seems to have a tent. Several local farmers also have booths selling preserves, fresh breads, or other baked goods. My stomach rumbles as we pass by a huge tent offering funnel cakes.
“Oh wow! That smells amazing!”
“Do you want some?” Nate asks.
“I am not passing that up!”
Once we finally make it past the food and various other marketing tents, we reach a long line of people waiting to embark on a horse-drawn hay wagon. I start to head to the back of it, but Nate just smiles and takes my hand, leading me to the front.
My face heats up as those waiting in line give us the side-eye, but Nate pays no attention. He walks right up to the back of the wagon and helps me up into it. I settle down on a bale of hay, and Nate slides in close to me, his arm around my shoulders.
“You know that makes me really uncomfortable,” I mumble quietly.
“All part of the package,” he whispers in my ear, “when your family pays for the festival.”
I roll my eyes, Nate snickers, and the wagon suddenly lurches forward as the horses take off in a trot. The wagon moves over a small bridge and onto a wide forest trail as the tour guide talks about the maple trees, Native American populations, and early settlers in the area. The wagon stops after a short ride, and we take a tour though trails I’ve walked dozens of times now, pointing out trees ready for tapping. The hike takes us to the end of the trail where different maple syrup processing is explained.
A group of women dressed in traditional Native American clothing place hot rocks in a hollowed-out ash log, boiling syrup as was done before the early settlers arrived. Beyond them, a man and two teenagers in early American wool garments add logs to a fire underneath a giant iron kettle as they explain the pioneer method of boiling sap.
“Is that the one you helped set up?” Nate asks, kissing my forehead.
“It is.” I smile up at him. “That thing is heavy!”
“Ha! I bet.”
At the end of the trail, the maple sugar shack is processing syrup. We step inside the dark building, and someone from the maple syrup plant named after Nate’s mother stands near the end of what looks like a metal maze. Inside the maze, liquid sap starts off thin and watery, but by the time the sap makes it to the end of the maze, it’s viscous and nearly ready to be bottled. The worker explains how gravity assists the precisely tilted tray in boiling the sap down.
�
��Lighter syrup is done first,” the worker says as he tosses more wood into the furnace below the maze, “and then the process starts again if you want darker syrup for cooking.”
“I’ll have to take you to the plant so you can see the modern way of doing this,” Nate says.
“Is it very different?”
“Really? No. It’s on a much larger scale, of course, but the basics are the same. Boil sap, make syrup and sugar. Pops swears it’s better when it’s made over a fire, but that just isn’t a profitable way of making it these days.”
I still as Nate mentions his father, wondering if he’ll finally say something about his death, but Nate turns away, his focus back on the presenter as he continues his lecture.
“Once the water is boiled out completely, you have maple sugar candy, which can be purchased out the door and around the left.”
“This is my favorite part,” Nate says as he takes a tiny piece of maple-leaf-shaped sugar and places it in my mouth.
“Oh, wow! That’s amazing!”
With the tour completed, we head back to the marina parking lot on another hay wagon. The entire tent area is now swarming with people. Beyond the tents, a few carnival rides spin around, and children who indulged in too much maple candy turn green. Nate and I walk along, playing a few of the carnival games and eating some actual food from one of the local restaurants.
“You know, I think the only restaurant that isn’t here is the one we went to on our first date,” I say.
“Oh, that place closed down.” Nate glances at me with a slight smile on his face.
“It did?”
“Too many management issues, I guess.” Nate shrugs and quickly changes the topic to the local band playing on a portable stage near the lake.
I press my lips together. For the hundredth time, I want to question him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. In the back of my head, I wonder if Nate had something to do with the restaurant’s closing, but that’s ridiculous. Isn’t it?
The evening ends with fireworks. The temperature has dropped significantly, and Nate insists on giving me his jacket and then wrapping his arm around me as we watch the spectacle. As red and gold sparkles fill the sky over the lake, Nate pulls me to him, warming me with his lips.