“I don’t know that I’m ‘all Zen.’ But I suppose that given the big lack of Zen in my life lately, I’ve been thinking more about finding ways to be happy.” He looked down as he turned the spoon in his fingers. “But that’s way more than you want to know.”
“Try me.” She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm. “Does the lack of Zen have something to do with your ‘not-exactly’ wife?”
He looked up. “You really don’t miss much do you?”
“I’m all about details. That’s why Pat thinks I’ll be a good appraiser.” She tilted her head. “Another detail is that you aren’t wearing a wedding ring.”
“No. I took it off.”
Becca raised her eyebrows and waggled her fingertips, encouraging him to elaborate. This was like pulling teeth. “Aaaand, when was that?”
“After the separation. It seemed stupid to wear it anymore. And it was kind of a pain when I was working in the woods anyway.”
“Stupid? Why?” Becca sighed. It was time to suck it up and ask the obvious question. “So are you actually married or not? I mean exactly.” She was surprised to discover that she really wanted to know the answer.
“Legally, we’re separated.” He bowed his head. “The divorce becomes final in a couple weeks. Thursday, December seventh. Pearl Harbor Day.”
The despairing expression on his face was heart-rending. Becca reached her hand across the table to touch his arm. “I’m really sorry.”
At the contact, he looked up. “It’s for the best. She was unhappy for a while I guess. Then, I was really unhappy.”
Becca squeezed his arm. “I’m guessing that was the ‘not Zen’ part.”
Smiling he said, “Definitely not Zen at all.” He pulled his arm away from her and gestured in exasperation. “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with. I get that. But she cheated on me with a drywall salesman. I mean, sure, I know maybe trees are kind of boring to other people. But drywall? What do you even talk about with a guy who sells drywall?”
Becca just shook her head, not wanting to suggest that perhaps they hadn’t been talking. “I don’t know.”
“FYI, you don’t want to have a cheating wife when you live in a small town.” He put his elbows on the table and leaned his forehead on his palms. “Everyone knows everything. Everywhere you go.”
“I think having your wife cheat on you with a drywall salesman is probably bad no matter where you live. But I see what you mean. How did she meet this guy?”
He put his hands on the table. “I guess he spent a lot of time up here because he was going out with the librarian for a long time.”
“The librarian?”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” He gestured toward the windows. “That’s what people told me anyway. Did I mention it’s a small town?”
“You mean people gossip here? Say it isn’t so!”
“Trust me, it wasn’t funny at the time.”
Becca’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. That was more a criticism of the town. As you may have noticed, I’m not a big fan of Alpine Grove. But that was insensitive of me to say. I’ve never been married, but when my ex, Tony, broke up with me, it was pretty horrible. I can’t imagine how bad it would be to have a marriage implode like that. How long were you married?”
He picked up his soup spoon and spent some time examining it before saying, “Almost five years. We moved out here so she could be closer to her family.”
“Oh. It seems like you like it here anyway.” Becca raised her brows slightly. “Well, except for all the gossipy people, that is.”
“The forests here are amazing. It’s an unusual habitat type, and the tree diversity is remarkable. It makes the work I do so much more interesting. What I was doing in Colorado was nowhere near as much fun. So I do like that.”
Becca grinned. “I like the fact that some parts of the forest are edible.”
Jack folded his hands in front of him. “You might want to consider spending more time out there in the forest.”
“Spoken like a true forester. You may have noticed I’m not exactly what you’d call an outdoorsy person.” That was putting it mildly.
“I know, but I’m serious.” He leaned back in the chair. “You probably think I’m some kind of nature nut, but it can be relaxing. Over the last six months, I’ve been thankful that so much of my job involves being out in the woods. It sounds odd, but some foresters spend a lot of time sitting in cubicles. I think that would have made everything even worse. After my marriage fell apart, I think I needed that time out there in the trees.”
Becca leaned toward the candle and wiggled her eyebrows. “You’re not getting all woo-woo on me, are you?”
“No. But you wanted to know how I got ‘all Zen.’ That’s how. A little quiet time by yourself with no noise except the wind in the trees and a few chattering squirrels isn’t such a bad thing.”
“I’ll take your word for it. There are also bears and mountain lions out there that might eat me. Oh, and moose. They’re supposed to be dangerous. I don’t want to meet a moose out in the woods. It was bad enough seeing one on the road. Or a deer. Whatever it was, it was big.”
“They don’t want to meet you either. If you don’t bother them, it’s unlikely they’ll bother you. You should think about doing something to relax though. Aren’t you worried about your health?”
Becca crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m fine. Well, maybe once I have a shower. Then I’ll be fine.”
“No. You’re not.”
She dropped her arms and leaned forward. He was one to talk. “You don’t exactly seem to be Mr. Cheerful after all that time in the forest. Half the time you’re a total grump.”
“Maybe so. But it was worse before. A lot worse.” He pointed at her. “And I’m not the one having panic attacks.”
“I have a disorder.”
Jack smirked. “That’s obvious.”
“No, I mean it’s official. I have generalized anxiety disorder. G-A-D. That’s what they said anyway.”
“Didn’t they make suggestions for what you could do about it?”
Becca picked up her spoon and tilted it toward him. “I did all that! I went to yoga. And counseling. I did what they said to do!”
“Did it help?”
“Sort of.” She placed the spoon back on the table and looked down at it. “Yoga was okay. And most of the time the breathing exercises do work. Today I just got a little too wound up. Why are we talking about me again?” Becca looked up at him. “We’re supposed to be talking about you. What’s your not-exactly wife like?”
He turned his head to look out the window. “Do we really have to talk about this? I just finished saying how terrible the last six months have been.”
“Yes.” Becca leaned forward and looked at him intently. “It’s time to work through your issues for a change. And we all know that I need something to think about other than not being able to do my job. How did you meet her?”
“All right. We met at a biker bar in Colorado.”
Becca raised her eyebrows. “Gee, how romantic. Details?”
Jack locked his gaze to hers. “Fine. You really want to know? She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Long, honey blonde hair and she was—what do they call it? Dressed to kill? Long legs and she was wearing some red slinky thing that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Annie always wears red.”
Becca glanced away at the window. It was officially dark, and she felt fine. Plus, this was getting interesting. “So, what were you doing at a biker bar anyway? That doesn’t strike me as the type of place tree-huggers hang out.”
“I rode my motorcycle there. What do you think?”
“You have a motorcycle?” A corner of Becca’s mouth turned up. Okay, the thought of Jack on a motorcycle was kind of sexy.
“Why should that be such a surprise?”
“No reason. It’s just hard to imagine you without your Eskimo garb and seventeen layers of flannel.”
He crossed his arms across his chest. “Well, the bike is in storage at the moment. I don’t ride in the winter for obvious reasons.”
Becca tapped her fingers on the table. “So you married a biker chick. I definitely would not have guessed that.”
“Well, Annie doesn’t ride, but she liked spending time at that bar. She likes excitement.” He leaned forward and picked at some dried candle wax on the table with his fingernail. “In the end, I wasn’t exciting enough, I suppose.”
“How were you supposed to be more exciting?”
“I don’t know. We moved here because she said she didn’t have enough friends in Colorado and all her family is here.” He shook his head. “We had great times with her family. Her brothers and I got along really well. It was fun going over to their places for barbecues and things like that. There were lots of family get-togethers. But then at some point that wasn’t enough either. I’m not sure what she wanted. Maybe she found it at the H12 with the drywall guy. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her in quite some time.”
“The H12?” Becca sat up straight. If only she were there. “That’s where I’m staying. Or was supposed to be staying. I wonder what happened to my stuff. Not to mention my dog. Poor Mona. Everyone probably thinks I’m dead or something.”
Jack looked up. “But no. Thanks to Mr. Tall Guy and his collection of old clothes and canned goods, you’re just fine.”
Becca reached out and placed her hand on the back of his. “I think it’s more like thanks to Mr. Tall Guy and you.”
Looking startled, Jack pulled his hand out from under hers and off the table. “I think the stove needs more wood.”
Becca watched as Jack crouched in front of the stove, loading logs onto the red coals. A flame sparked around a piece of wood, lighting up his face. His expression was definitely not Zen. Becca wondered if Annie, the legendary gorgeous woman in red, knew that she’d broken his heart.
Chapter 7
Dreams
Kat tossed in bed, throwing off the covers with her leg. Her black-and-white cat Murphee stood up on the bed, glared at her, and resettled her furry body in a new spot. When was last time she’d been this sick? Years? Decades? It was like she’d been run over by a steamroller. Everything ached, particularly her throat. She paused before attempting to swallow again. Ouch. That really hurt. And now she was freezing again. Yanking the comforter back over her body, Kat dimly remembered what woke her up. It was shouting. Was everything okay out there? She closed her eyes and flopped onto her back again. Ugh. Not her problem.
Later, she started awake at a loud crashing noise. What was that? There was an eerie silence. Not even purring. Murphee must have given up and left. Maybe the noise was just part of a dream. Her fitful dreams had been beyond bizarre. In one of them, Joel was talking to Cindy about chicken pox. Or maybe that really happened. In another one, they were talking about blood and Cindy was sobbing. Joel said something about being seventeen years old. And Stanford. But he didn’t go to Stanford, so that didn’t make sense. Then in another dream, Linus came up to her and said she had to follow the Yellow Brick Road. She told him he couldn’t talk, but he looked so sad about it that she felt bad and went with him anyway. Then they were walking down the Yellow Brick Road, but Linus wanted to take a nap in a field of poppies. She couldn’t get him to get up and she wanted to get to the Emerald City because it was the same color as Joel’s eyes.
Kat stared at the ceiling. What a panorama of weirdness. Now she had an idea what it must be like for people who did way too many drugs. Flying high on the creeping crud was probably better than LSD. Too bad she felt so awful. Otherwise she could have some fun with this. Sleeping was becoming quite the spectator sport. But now she was hot again. Alternating between roasting and freezing was getting old. Kat pushed the covers off her body and closed her eyes.
Later, sensing warmth on her eyelids, Kat opened her eyes and squinted as sun streamed through the window. Was it actually not snowing? Oh please, please, let that be true. She staggered out of bed and looked out the window. One small blue hole appeared in the blanket of clouds, letting a stream of sunlight through. It was like a Monty Python movie. Which she realized she’d also dreamed about. The Black Knight from the Holy Grail spurting blood was seriously gross. Dreams that included blood were not a good idea. Her subconscious needed to just move on from that topic. Yuck. No wonder she was dizzy. Returning to the bed, she crawled back under the covers and pulled them over her head.
Through the door and the sheets, she heard Cindy shout, “Why do you always do this? Just when I start to think you’re a normal human being, you stop talking again. What is wrong with you?”
Kat sat up in bed and put her hand to her throbbing temple. That was mean, even for Cindy. She could hear the low undertone of Joel’s response, but not what he was saying. He probably had moved into the overly calm voice he only used when he was furious. Uh-oh. Was Cindy completely brain dead? Why did they continually antagonize each other?
Cindy shrieked, “Everyone else had cool parents. But mine were dead!”
Kat shook her head to try to clear her fuzzy mind. All these dreams were so strange, she wasn’t sure if what she’d heard before was real. Okay, the Yellow Brick Road definitely was not real. But maybe some of what she’d heard Joel and Cindy say was true. It didn’t matter. They needed to stop. Now.
She pushed herself up out of bed, shuffled into her slippers, and opened the door. The glare of sunlight was worse in here, and the pain in her temple intensified. Joel was in the kitchen facing the counter. He was gripping it with both hands and his head was bowed.
Cindy had retired to the sofa with a look of smug fury on her face. As Kat shuffled into the room, Cindy said, “Oh look, the sleeper has finally awakened.”
Kat cringed as she swallowed painfully and whispered, “Could you please stop fighting?”
Joel walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right? What did you say?”
She reached up and yanked on his collar, pulling his head down so she could whisper in his ear. “Where is Johnny?”
“He’s outside.”
Kat rasped, “Good. But you still need to stop fighting.”
He straightened and glared at Cindy. “I’m not doing anything.”
Cindy put her arm on the back of the sofa, “You never do. That’s the whole problem.”
Joel waved toward the sofa. “Maybe I don’t want to talk to you. Did you ever think of that?”
Kat turned around and went back into the bedroom. This needed to stop. Grabbing the pad of paper off the nightstand, she marched back out into the living room. She wrote on a piece of paper, “Don’t clam up when Cindy wants to talk to you. It makes her nuts,” and handed it to Joel, who looked down at it.
On another piece of paper she wrote, “When Joel starts speaking quietly, for heaven’s sake just shut up and leave him alone for a while.” Kat walked over to the sofa, tore the note off the pad, and handed it to Cindy, who looked at Joel and shrugged.
Scowling, Kat shook her notepad forcefully at both of them and stomped her foot to emphasize her point. A dog barked downstairs with a vote of support and she turned to leave. At least they were quiet now. She went back into the bedroom, closed the door, and crawled back into bed, exhausted. Having to deal with someone else’s family stuff was way over the line for someone as sick as she was. She closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
The door opened and Joel entered the room, closing the door behind him quietly. He laid down on the bed next to Kat and collected her into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head. “That was the quietest tongue-lashing I’ve ever received. I’m sorry. Feel better, okay? I miss you.”
Kat closed her eyes and hugged him, hoping he knew that it meant ‘thanks.’
The next morning, Becca woke up slowly. She sprawled out on her back with her arms and legs stretched out in the bed, reveling in the snuggly warm comforter. The lack of elect
ricity certainly was helping her get a lot of rest. Staying up late was virtually impossible in the dark, which led to the whole ‘early to bed’ thing.
Before they retired for the evening, Jack had pointed out that it was snowing. Becca made an effort not to think about the ramifications of more snow, instead recalling the feel of his hands on her shoulders and his deep soothing voice advising her to think about only what was happening right now.
Here in the loft, it was nice and warm, and it certainly wasn’t like she had to rush off and do something. She stared at the wood ceiling. Some of the knots in the wood looked like friendly gnome faces smiling down at her. The realization came slowly, but as Becca catalogued the state of her muscles, she determined she was, in fact, completely relaxed. The last time she’d felt this way was at the spa. Of course, then she had smelled a lot better. When she got home, she was going to take the longest bubble bath ever.
Becca’s stomach growled. Maybe Jack had found some more tree parts to eat. She rolled over, got up out of bed, and looked out over the railing, down at the room. Jack was sitting at the table quietly sorting through pine cones again as Frank stared at him intently. The dog really had a one-track mind. He’d probably go into paroxysms of joy if Jack accidentally dropped a pine nut on the floor.
She descended the ladder and joined Jack at the table. “Morning.”
He smiled at her. “You slept late. All this mountain air is probably good for you.”
“Maybe. There could be less smog in my lungs by now. They’re probably getting all healthy even as we speak. Plus, I’m losing weight. I’ll be willowy by the time I get home. I’ve never been willowy before. People won’t recognize me.”
Jack looked at her appraisingly. “I think you might be a little too…uh…curvy to get to willowy.”
Becca held the flannel shirt out in front of her. “Underneath all these baggy layers of flannel and fleece, there could be a delicate willow just waiting to emerge.”
Snow Furries (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 4) Page 11