Snowman

by AC Netzel

  And I realize…

  Here in the middle of New York Harbor is the very meaning of ‘what ifs.’

  Closing my eyes, I imagine Nick seated next to me with his arm wrapped lovingly around me, my head resting on his shoulder and I smile to myself. I’d beam with pride as Noelle bounced in her seat when we pass the Statue, excited to experience this wonder in person.

  I open my eyes, look at the vacant seats next to me, and feel…

  Empty.

  Chapter 36

  I thought that after two weeks, my mood would lift, and my old normal would return. But it hasn’t. The part of me I wasn’t supposed to give to him never returned.

  My dad has called me five times over the past two weeks. A record for him. I’ve danced around the Arid Falls subject every time he brings it up, hoping he’ll finally move on.

  Like I’ve been trying to.

  I’ve been in my new position for a little while now, and I’m not feeling it. The new clients I meet and the projects I’m a part of should be exciting and challenging. But they’re not. It’s always about money, money, money.

  It feels so damned insincere.

  With my elbow on the table propping up my chin, I sit at the conference room table with my open laptop and a lump in my throat. My coworkers are debating what to do with the Arid Falls land we already own. This discussion has been going around in circles for an hour, with no one in agreement.

  Tuning out their voices, I stare at an aerial photo of the Arid Falls lake area on my laptop. I lift my index finger to the screen and trace the winding road that leads to Nick’s house. I press my finger and hold it at the top of his driveway. My heart sinks when I spot the roof of his house. I notice his canoe resting on the ground near the dock. I inhale a quick breath and continue sliding my finger down the path that leads to his house. The place that in just a few days, made so many cherished memories.

  Memories that won’t fade.

  Because I won’t let them.

  It’s all I have of him… of us.

  Quietly, I close my laptop and redirect my attention to the conversations I’ve tuned out. I have to snap myself out of this headspace. It’s not good for me or my career.

  “Perspective buyers expect a clubhouse and a pool. The tennis court and golf range can go,” my overcaffeinated, jittery mess of a team member, Dave, tells our group of four.

  “The retail area has to stay. It’s a great selling point.” Lenore, a type-A drama queen, huffs as she pounds her fist on the table. I roll my eyes at her exaggerated dramatics. “And we need more common areas. Who took out the park? It was in the plans yesterday.”

  I laugh to myself. She’s referring to Christmas Chrysanthemum Park, home of the Nativity Alpacas.

  “There’s no room for common areas other than a pool. And since the pool has to be relocated from our original design, it’s going to cost a fortune in building up the seawall. We have to scale back the size of the Club House too. All because someone,” Lester, a whiny urban developer just out of NYU’s Master’s Program, side-eyes me, “couldn’t close the deal.”

  “Hey Lester.” I straighten my posture in my chair. “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Real professional, Summer,” he grumbles.

  I answer him with a smile and my middle finger.

  “Guys, play nice. And don’t go off-topic.” Lenore wags her index finger between the two of us. “Let’s get back to our assignment.”

  “I heard Arid Falls is full of a bunch of weirdos who think Santa and his elves live there on their days off. Any truth to it, Summer?” Dave asks.

  “No. They’re good, decent people,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.

  And you are a grade-A prick.

  “When Tom Higgins from the sales department went there, he said the townsfolk were the oddest group he ever met. They were stuck in Christmas. Is he right?” he asks.

  Pursing my lips, I shake my head and ignore his question.

  Idiot.

  Lenore overexaggerates a long sigh. “I don’t know if we can pull this off. We don’t have enough land for a project of this magnitude. There’s no draw for prospective buyers. Where’s the investment incentives when there are no amenities. This was supposed to be a resort-like property… not a crappy motel in the middle of nowhere. There’s plenty of lakefront communities that have a ton more to offer than this garbage. We’re going to lose money. No one’s going to invest in half an idea. The whole project is a bust.” She drapes her arm dramatically across her forehead.

  I roll my eyes again.

  Why am I here?

  I hate these people.

  I half-listen to my coworkers talk about the place that holds a piece of my heart like it’s nothing. And I get it, I thought the same things before I stepped foot there. But I’ve seen what I’ve seen…and I know what I know.

  This project, scaled back or not, is wrong.

  “Ugh… maybe we should just build a giant house there and call it a day,” she adds.

  My eyes spring open, and a huge smile lifts from the corners of my mouth. “Lenore… you are brilliant.”

  She frowns. “I am?”

  “Oh yeah. I need to speak to Miranda.”

  Chapter 37

  “Hey, I know it’s been a while. How have you been?” I ask.

  I’m greeted with silence.

  “Look, we’ve had our ups and downs, but let’s start fresh.”

  More silence.

  “Come on, don’t be like that,” I complain.

  “Continue on 95 North for five miles.”

  I smile. “Ah, there’s the Bethany I know and love. I’ve missed your indifferent, monotone voice. Do me a favor and keep me out of ditches this time around. Deal?”

  Again, silence.

  “I accept your silence as an agreement.” I take a quick peek at my rental car’s console, where my cell phone rests safely.

  Butterflies in my stomach take flight when I see the familiar worn wooden billboard with a faded and chipped Santa sitting in an oak barrel, waving as he goes over the falls. Although it makes me anxious, it’s a welcome sight.

  “In one mile, take Exit 10A,” Bethany barks out.

  She’s a little snippy today.

  After a quick mile, I exit the main highway. The deserted county road is exactly the same—a little bit of asphalt and an icy gravelly mess of a dirt road. Do they actually lower their plows when they use them, or keep them a foot above the street? I missed a lot of things about this place. The crappy roads are not one of them.

  “In a half-mile, stay right at the fork in the road,” Bethany orders.

  Once again, I’m surrounded by serial killer woods. I make it a point to keep my line of vision forward, not allowing even the tiniest glance to the side. Probably not the best idea when half the deer population enjoys darting out of the woods in front of moving cars —but the last thing I need is to see a dark figure in a hockey mask loitering near a tree.

  It’s been four weeks since I last set foot in Arid Falls. I’m equally excited and terrified to be here. After a lot of soul searching, I finally took my dad’s advice and somehow finagled an impromptu vacation week. I usually have to clear time-off well in advance, so I told my team members I was heading out of town to help my old and frail grandmother move to a nursing home. Little do they know she’s been dead and buried for ten years. Grandma had a great sense of humor—she would have encouraged my lie.

  “In a quarter-mile, turn left on Partridge Road,” Bethany says.

  “We’re almost there,” I tell her. My stomach could compete as an Olympic gymnast, as it’s passed the basic somersaults and graduated to triple backflips.

  “I know I didn’t have to come here,” I say to Bethany —like she’s my therapist. “But I want to clarify what’s going on in person. I mean, the changes happening at the lakefront are under my watch. I feel like I owe them an explanation.”

  Silence.

  “Okay, while I’m here, I’
ll probably visit some of the people I became friendly with… Holly, the Jingle Belles.” Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I sigh. “Yes, and him. And no, I’m not deluding myself into thinking he’s been carrying a torch for me while I was back in New York. For all I know, he’s long forgotten about me and has a girlfriend.”

  Imagining him with someone else sickens me, so I wipe it out of my mind immediately.

  My back tire hits a patch of ice in the same spot as the first time I was here and my car slides. I manage to correct it before getting stuck in the same dreaded hole in the earth that swallowed my car last time. I stick up my middle finger as I pass the scene of the crime.

  “Suck it, ditch,” I yell out to no one.

  I beam when I come across the first signs of life. All these weeks later, Christmas is still alive and kicking. Lush garlands and Christmas lights still hang from light pole to light pole. Houses are still festively decorated, holiday blow molds adorn snow-covered front lawns, oversized plastic decorative candy canes line up driveways.

  Usually, I’m sick of Christmas by December 24th, but this welcoming sight of a full-scale winter wonderland fills my heart with joy. And simultaneously frays my nerves.

  I make a turn and smile at the shops along the main road. Bundled up pedestrians saunter store to store. No matter how cold these people must be, they still walk like they’re half-asleep. My smile widens as I notice the gel craze is still alive and well as two gel-crispy men exit Joseph’s Barber Shop. A woman walks out of the bakery with a box in her hand, most likely a blue ribbon, Oscar-winning, Pulitzer, Olympic Gold, and every other major award category imaginable, fruitcake.

  Oh, and the curling wand phase is still going strong.

  “It’s nice to be back here, isn’t it?” I ask my cell phone.

  She ignores me, as usual.

  “You know what, Bethany… you can be a real bitch when you want to. I think I’m going to park and walk off a little bit of this nervous energy before I see him… I mean them.”

  After four tries, I parallel park my car in front of Florist Green.

  Florist Forrest Green. Florist Forrest Green. Florist Forrest Green.

  Still funny.

  Buttoning up the top buttons to my coat, I step out of my car and breathe in the fresh cold air.

  I stop and admire the Green’s window display. It’s changed since I was last here, but it’s still stunning. Thick green spruce garlands with red berries and pinecones are draped from end to end. Dozens upon dozens of red roses are displayed in various vases, at multiple heights. And two life-sized silver-plated deer stand in the middle.

  Ever may be a legitabitch, but I give credit where credit is due. The girl has talent.

  I’m dying to catch of glimpse of what Florist Forrest Green looks like, so I peek further inside the store.

  And my heart sinks.

  He’s there.

  With her.

  Locked in an embrace.

  She kisses his cheek. He smiles warmly back at her with his arms still wrapped tightly around her as she smiles back. They look comfortable. Happy.

  Together.

  I cover my mouth with my hand while my stomach twists in knots. Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick. My head pounds like a hammer just slammed into it, and my hands tremble. Everything else is numb.

  Why did I come back? I don’t belong here.

  Deep down, I guess I knew them getting back together was a possibility. More like a probability. The odds were in her favor. It’s a small town… how many people can you connect with? Their recoupling was bound to happen, exhausting or not.

  I guess the second time was the charm.

  I wonder if he’s slept with her yet. Touched her the way he touched me. Whispered dirty words in her ear, then kissed her with a sweet tenderness that made her swoon.

  Like I did.

  Of all the people in the world—why is she the phantom girl who wins his heart?

  Why couldn’t it be…

  Me.

  I turn away, not wanting to witness any more of their rekindled relationship. Desperately trying to hold in my emotions, I return to my rental car. Glancing at the rearview mirror, I wipe away my tears then drive away… anywhere but here.

  I shake my head to rid the vision of the two of them together. The thought nauseates me. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a mistake coming here. I played seeing him again in my head a thousand times. Not once did it involve his arms wrapped around another woman.

  “You’re a big girl, Summer. Do what you came to do and go home,” I tell myself. I pull to the side of the road and reprogram Bethany with a new address.

  I ring the small silver bell on the modest desk in front of me.

  “Be right with you,” a familiar voice calls out.

  My pulse races while I rub my hands together to offset some nervous energy. Inhaling the comforting scent of pine needles and cinnamon, I smile. I know I was here only a few days, but this place sure does feel like home.

  “How can I help…” Holly says as she walks into the small lobby area and stops, placing her hands on her cheeks. “Oh my goodness! Summer!”

  I offer a small wave. “Hi, Holly.”

  She rushes over to me and squashes my internal organs with an enthusiastic hug. “So good to see you again. Are you staying? Do you need a room?”

  I smile politely, masking the fact that my soul was crushed a little while ago. “No. I’m not staying. I... I just wanted to talk to you. Then I have to go.”

  She frowns. “When did you arrive?”

  “Today.” If there’s no flight available, I’ll drive home, even if it takes all night. All I know is I can’t be here and witness that again.

  “Why are you leaving so soon?”

  I look down toward the floor, shuffling my feet. “I just have to.”

  “Okay. Take off your coat. Let’s sit in the living room, and we’ll talk.”

  We walk to the living room together. The fireplace is crackling with a blazing fire. Tiny white Christmas lights weaved into the pine garland covered mantel twinkle like stars. It’s cozy, welcoming, serene. This room, this house… is her. And it’s lovely.

  “The Christmas tree is gone?” Although I know it’s perfectly normal to be gone for the season, the small changes make me feel a little disappointed, like I missed out on something.

  “Unfortunately, yes. It dried out. We were getting pine needles everywhere. Here, sit next to me.” She pats the cushion next to her on the crushed velvet couch.

  I take a seat and plaster a fake smile across my face. “That’s a nice vest you’re wearing.”

  “Thank you. I crocheted it myself. Won an award at the winter fair last year.” She lifts a brow. “Now, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to compliment my vest.”

  “No. I wanted to give you a heads up on the land by the lake. You’ve been so kind and hospitable to me. I figure it’s the least I could do before the bulldozers and other construction trucks show up.”

  She looks down at her lap. “So they’re still going to build there?” she asks quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” She nods, looking back up at me. “Thank you for coming all this way to let me know.”

  “You don’t know everything.”

  “What else is there? Our community will never be the same.”

  I take her hand in mine. “There’s been a change in plans.”

  After our talk, Holly walks with me to the lobby as I slip on my coat.

  “Thank you again for coming by and for the update,” she tells me.

  “It was good to see you.” I smile warmly. Seeing her again was a genuine pleasure.

  “You too.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me. “Aren’t you going to ask about him?”

  “Who… Kris?” I play dumb. “How is he doing?”

  “Kris is fine. And we both know that’s not who I’m talking about.”

  “Oh. I already saw that
he’s doing fine.” I play it cool, concealing my disappointment.

  “You spoke with Nick? When?”

  “Before I got here. I didn’t actually talk to him, but what I saw told me everything I need to know.”

  “What exactly did you see?”

  I shake my head, blocking the memory. “Nothing,” I dismiss. “It’s not important. I should get going. You can relay the land information to him if you like.”

  “Summer,” she says firmly. “What did you see?”

  “I saw Ever wrapped in his arms, kissing him.” I inhale a breath and stand tall, pretending it doesn’t mean anything to me.

  She smiles and holds up a hand. “Ever Green has had her arms wrapped around and kissed everybody in town. She’s leaving. Heading your way, in fact. She met a smooth-talking young man named Jake, who convinced her to join him in New York City and pursue a modeling career. There’s no romance between her and Nick. Believe me, if there was, Noelle would have told me. What you saw were two friends saying goodbye.”

  “He’s not seeing anyone?” I ask.

  “No, sweetheart. I think he’s stuck on someone he met a few weeks ago.” She gives me a sly wink and smiles.

  “Oh.” My heart pounds wildly in my chest.

  “Tell me the truth—Did you really come to Arid Falls because you want to see him again?” she asks.

  Slowly, I nod as tears well up in my eyes.

  “Then go to him,” she tells me.

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  She looks down at her watch. “He’ll be at the bait and tackle shop by now.”

  I reach around and hug her. “Thank you, Holly. Thank you.”

  “I always had faith in you, Summer. Still do. Go get him.”

  Chapter 38

  The bell on top of the door to the bait and tackle shop ding-a-lings as I enter. The butterflies in my stomach are fluttering like they’re rushing to Mexico for the winter. I look around at the fishing poles and wall of pegged hooks, fishing lines, and lures. Nothing’s changed. It looks the same as the last time I was here.