by Jean Oram
“He can’t afford another piano,” I muttered. Louder, I added, “I need to check in with the gals.”
I turned, about to climb the steps, when Steve muttered back, “Spent it all on the Buick, huh?”
“You need a piano, honey?” Calvin slid his arm across my shoulders, placing his hip against mine and preventing me from escaping inside. My heart lifted at the endearment, even though I knew it meant nothing. “Why didn’t you say something? I bet the engineering company I work for would be more than happy to donate one. And if not, maybe I can find one like I did for your living room.” He shot Steve a smug look.
“You’ll find one?” I turned in his half embrace. It was familiar, warm, but somehow didn’t feel as right as it once had. “You leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to need the piano right after you get back, and it’ll have to be tuned after being delivered.”
“I can tune it,” Steve interjected.
“By a professional,” I added, not even turning to him.
Calvin let out a huff of amusement, his features relaxing as he slipped his arm off my shoulders. “You two still hate each other, huh?” he said.
“We don’t hate each other,” I answered lamely, taking a step away.
“Hey! Look who’s here,” Carol called from the doorway. “I thought I heard voices. How’s the piano?”
Obi came trundling down the steps to circle the men before sitting at my feet, then stretching to nudge Steve’s hand, hoping for a few pets, which he was granted.
Calvin whistled for the dog and was ignored.
“The piano’s fine,” I told Carol, worried that my stubbornness was going to land us in hot water when it came time to perform for the town on a piano that sounded awful.
“Joy won’t say it, but she feels it could use replacing,” Steve interjected, giving me a hard look. “She’s too forgiving. She could do a lot better than settle.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“But don’t worry,” he said brightly. “Wonder boy here says he’ll get one.” He jerked a thumb in Calvin’s direction.
“Really?” Carol’s forehead furrowed.
“I’ll look into getting something brought in,” Calvin said smoothly.
“Aren’t you leaving for France?” she asked.
“I’ve got this,” Calvin assured us.
“I’m going to go next door,” Steve said. He reached out and tapped my shoulder. “Open your window and holler if you need anything.” He smiled and winked, while giving Obi-Wan a goodbye scratch.
I rolled onto the balls of my feet, trying to think of a reason for him to stay longer. I didn’t have one.
“She won’t need you,” Calvin said tightly, his hands curling into fists. “She has me.”
I turned to him in surprise. And that’s when I saw exactly why the two men had never gotten along.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I told Cassandra, ten minutes after Steve had left, followed soon after by Calvin and Carol.
“It makes total sense,” my friend replied, palms flat on the kitchen table. “Calvin’s jealous of Steve and vice versa.”
“I know. But it still doesn’t make sense.”
“Steve has a thing for you, which is driving Calvin nuts.”
“But Calvin doesn’t want me.”
“That doesn’t mean he wants his old rival to win you. And why else would Steve pretend he can tune a piano except for the fact that he likes you?” Cassandra laughed, having loved the story of Steve’s moxie, going all the way to the church and never quite admitting he was in over his head.
“He would do all of that to annoy me,” I said.
“It’s only annoying because you like him, but don’t want to.” She smiled as if she’d hit upon some truth—which she hadn’t.
Steve and me? We were like ketchup on pudding. It just didn’t work.
“He’s annoying because he’s still pushy and thinks he knows what’s best for me. He intentionally made Calvin jump up and say he’d get a piano.”
“Well, the one at the center is old. And it’s not like Calvin is broke. Steve probably did you and the community a favor.” Cassandra moved toward the front door, hollering for Dusty, who had finished helping Max clean up the toys they’d been playing with. We were in that precious, momentary balance where it was imperative to extract the boys before the mess was recreated.
“And,” she added, reaching for the door even though her son was still in Max’s room, and by the sounds of it, trying to see who could jump the highest on the bed, “I also happen to agree with Steve that you should become a teacher.”
I gave her an unimpressed look.
“It’ll only take a few courses, right?”
I folded my arms across my chest and she lowered her voice, adding, “Max really likes him and so does Obi.”
“So?”
She raised her brows, calling me on my feigned obtuseness. We both recognized that Steve was hitting some pretty important marks on the single mom’s potential-new-husband list. Good with your kid? Check. The dog likes him? Another check. He had earned himself a free pass straight into the inner circle, where his eligibility could be considered more fully. Because chances were he was a good person.
“He likes a life full of adventure,” I said. “He’s not looking to play daddy.”
Cassandra smirked, and I paused, wondering why my excuse felt like a lie. Was it the way Steve softened when I’d talked about family when we were in the old church?
If I was a decent judge of character—and I liked to think that I was—it seemed as though he might actually want a cozy family life.
I shook my head. That didn’t line up with the Steve I knew. He was a helicopter pilot dropping people out onto glaciers and snowy ridge tops so they could ski their way down to the bottom. If that didn’t say adventure, nothing did.
Cassandra hollered for Dusty again. “Come on, kid! Tim Burke is waiting for us to pick up that saddle blanket for the community center’s silent auction. If we’re going to help put a new roof on the place we need to get moving. Chop, chop!” She lowered her voice again. “By the way, Tim’s a rancher in need of a woman.” She fanned herself. “Totally cute. As for Steve, why don’t you kiss him and see if all this fighting is just chemistry with nowhere to go?”
I gave a huff of amusement as Dusty came sliding up in his socks. Cassandra plunked a red knitted hat on his curls as he jumped into his boots, and she had him out the door in moments, adding, “Be like Nike. Just do it.”
I waved goodbye and closed the door, to find Max already in front of the TV, clicking through the channels.
“Did I say yes to screen time?”
“Yup.”
“I didn’t. Turn it off.”
“But I’m tired and want to watch.”
“Why don’t you finish your letter to Santa so I can mail it? That way it’ll get to him in time for Christmas.”
“Santa!” Max bounded off the couch and into the kitchen, yanking his half-written Santa letter from the fridge and sending the magnet flying. As nice as the upcoming break would be, I was going to miss my little whirlwind.
Just pretend he’s going to be over at Calvin’s for a week and not half a world away.
I sighed and held up the list of things to pack for Max that Calvin had left with me. It was long, but I could see at a glance it was missing important items, such as Max’s favorite teddy bear. I tossed the list aside, wondering what Calvin would do if I ignored it.
Right. He’d be steamed up, because it was me who took care of the details, desperately hanging on to my little boy and the idea of being needed.
What had changed that I didn’t want to deal with packing? Was it a belligerent part of me that thought if Calvin was going to take our son on this international trip, then he was on his own and could very well mess up and fail? Did I want the vacation to be miserable for poor Max? Because that’s what could happen if I didn’t add items to that list. What a corner I’d painted myself into.
>
“How do you spell ‘Mercedes’?” Max asked.
“You don’t need a car,” I replied absently, picking up Calvin’s list again.
“Dad wants it.”
“He already has a fancy car.” Because he made more money than a daycare worker did. Because he’d taken care of himself by getting a degree, instead of quitting like I had and then just floating along, assuming he’d always be there. And now he wasn’t.
He had the nice car. I had an okay car, which I was grateful for. I plunked myself down at the table and shoved my hands in my hair. I was a grown-up, and couldn’t afford the same things my former partner could, even though we’d been hip to hip all our adult life. What kind of spot had I inadvertently put myself in?
Steve was correct, as were my friends. Going back to school would be smart. But was it the right choice?
And was Calvin really going to find me a piano? I shook my head at how Steve had played to Calvin’s weaknesses—or jealousy, according to Cassandra—causing him to step up in the piano-replacing department when it was the last thing he had time for.
As if on cue, my phone beeped with a text from Calvin, saying there were no used pianos online in the area, and that maybe the fundraising group for the community center could sort something out in time.
I put my phone down, wanting to ghost him by not replying. Instead, I picked it up again and sent him a thumbs-up emoji, hating the way I was letting him off the hook, but very aware that I was preventing a fight, which was probably what Steve had been angling to create.
I shifted my chair closer to Max’s, hands clutched around my phone as I reminded him to put spaces between his words so Santa could read the letter easier. I wondered what Steve had asked for from Santa at this age. And how was it that none of us had known his mother was sick? And why did that tidbit of history feel connected to the way he’d judged me and my life choices in high school?
Had I messed up in my assessment of him? But why had he judged me for wanting to start a family with Calvin, when today his eyes had softened when talking about family?
Had he changed?
No. He was still pushy, as well as correct about most things in my life, from my career to the community center needing a new piano. The worst part was that if I did go through with upgrading my education, it would be due to him, and a part of me didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right or thinking he knew me.
I thought about texting Carol to see if she’d heard back from her friend in admissions, but instead I set my phone down. It was time to focus on my little boy, not on the hunky man next door who was trying to turn my quiet life upside down.
Chapter 4
I kept waving even after my father-in-law turned the corner, taking Max and Calvin to the airport, along with Calvin’s mom. Finally, I lowered my arm, letting my shoulders sag. I swiped at my eyes with my middle fingers, frustrated that my plan of wearing non-waterproof mascara hadn’t worked to keep my tears at bay.
Obi nudged my thigh with his nose as I sniffled.
“I know,” I said, my voice embarrassingly wobbly. The temptation to shove items into a suitcase and follow Max to the airport was far too great.
I would not follow them. I no longer belonged with Calvin, and we were no longer a family unit. Calvin’s mother was going on the reconnaissance trip to act as chief caregiver for Max when Calvin had meetings. Not me. As Cassandra had said, Max and Calvin wouldn’t always be front and center in my life, and in this moment the fact had never felt so real.
I needed to stand on my own two feet, starting right now. I stared at my house, the urge to make an instant move down the path to significant life changes itching like mad. I still hadn’t heard back from Carol about admissions to the education program, and until I knew more about going back to school I didn’t want to tease or tempt myself with dreams of a career change.
Forcing my feet to move, I headed back toward the warm house, my breath coming out in clouds in the frigid morning mountain air. Inside, I kicked off my boots and stared at the black TV screen in the living room.
Tonight was movie night. I dropped heavily onto the couch. Max and I hadn’t missed a movie night together since we’d moved in a year ago.
A small squeak escaped me. No. No feeling sorry for myself. This was an opportunity for both of us. Max would gain some independence, while seeing more of the world, and I would watch something rated higher than PG tonight. I could curl up in bed with a glass of wine and a movie, or I could eat junk food on the couch. I could turn the music up too loud.
I nodded to myself, feeling bolstered. But then my head began shaking slowly. The house was too quiet. Too... dull and lifeless. I got up and plugged in the Christmas tree. Pretty. I waited for the spirit of the holidays to envelop me with its warmth. Instead, the cold reality of loneliness crept in.
This was exactly what Cassandra had been warning me about.
Outside. I needed to go outside.
I hustled to the door and pulled on my winter gear. A walk would clear my mind and help me find a much-needed Zen head space.
“Walkies!” I called to Obi, and he came scurrying around the corner, his nails clacking on the floor.
I clipped his leash to his collar and in moments we were out in the sunshine as it crested the mountains, highlighting the entire town with a magical, early morning glow. I hurried down the steps and hung a right, planning to start at Christmas Falls, then maybe take one of the trails out into the bush beyond the Kissing Bench.
I passed the community center, wondering once again what I was going to do about the piano. The extravaganza was coming up fast, all seven of us ready to perform, whether we had an instrument or not. But if we didn’t have a piano what would I do? I wasn’t much of a singer and didn’t want to be left out of the group. We’d all met up at the tree lighting ceremony last week and had shared cookies baked by Ashley’s mom, like old times. It had felt good, real. Laughter, connection. I didn’t want to lose that even if I didn’t wear Ms. King’s friendship bracelet every single day, like I had for the tree lighting ceremony.
Huffing and puffing from my frantic pace, I took the steps up the slope to the waterfall, and drew up short in front of the Sharing Tree. It was covered with ornaments, as per the community tradition. Word was that if a couple hung an ornament on the Douglas fir together they would be lovers for life. Calvin and I had purchased an ornament for the occasion back in our last year of high school. We’d planned on hanging it, but when I’d opened the box in front of the tree, the ornament had been broken.
A bad omen? Coincidence? Bad luck? I didn’t want to consider what might have happened if we’d managed to hang the ornament.
Instead, we’d kissed at the falls on Christmas Eve, and as per local lore, we’d had good luck for a wedding in the New Year.
I nearly laughed at my thoughts, and continued past the tree. It didn’t matter. It was just a wish. A tradition. Not at all real.
There was someone on the path ahead of me, and I called Obi back as he bounded over to the familiar-looking hiker. I called out an apology and the figure turned. It was Steve. My heart gave a little skip, but I wasn’t sure if it was due to anticipation or dread.
“Hey, Joy.”
“Hey.”
“You saw your little guy off okay?”
I bit my cheek, trying to trap the sudden welling of emotion so I wouldn’t start blubbering like a fool. I sufficed with a short nod.
France was so far away. And Max would be gone for so long. We’d never been this far apart, or for so much time.
Wordlessly, Steve came over and rested a hand on my shoulder. The unexpected empathy made my eyes fill with tears. I was still wearing that crappy mascara and I shifted away, desperate to regain control.
“I guess it’ll give you some peace and quiet so you can apply for college, huh?”
There was a twinkle of amusement in Steve’s eyes as I retaliated for that barb, giving him a playful shove. His feet sl
ipped on the packed snow and, horrified, I reached out to catch him. My hands slid around his waist, so I was pressed to him as he continued to wobble. We were going to fall. His arms clenched tight around me as we struggled for balance. Then he righted himself with a chuckle, causing me to realize he’d never been in real danger of falling.
“Seriously?” I gave him a glare as I dropped my arms. But I was still locked in his embrace, Obi dancing around us, barking happily.
“It’s been some time since a beautiful woman wrapped her arms around me.” He was giving me a lovely hug, his puffy down jacket like a pillow. I loved it. I hated it.
“What are you doing up here?” I choked out, feeling as though I’d given up something by letting him hug me. “Adding an ornament to the tree with your invisible girlfriend?”
“Something like that.”
I watched him for a moment, his gold-flecked blue eyes studying mine.
“What?” he asked, that crooked smile dropping.
I shrugged, suddenly unsure as he released me.
He looked as though he was going to say something else, then changed his mind.
“What?” I echoed. This was becoming awkward fast. And since things with Steve never got awkward, this was new ground. I didn’t like it.
“Want to walk with me?” he asked, the awkwardness vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He held out his hand, offering assistance down a particularly slippery part of the trail that was sheltered by trees.
“Okay.” I let my gloved hand slide into his, tempted to fake slipping so I could land in his arms.
How mixed up was I that his embrace seemed like the best part of my day?
We headed on down, his hand dropping mine where the trail narrowed, this route less traveled than the one leading up to the waterfall. Obi-Wan loped ahead of us, his fringed tail making happy circles in the air.
“Steve?” I ventured at last.
“Yeah?” He took a look at me over his shoulder and I was hit by the directness of his gaze. He was so handsome, so kind. And he took the crap I blasted at him and somehow knocked me sideways with it, then righted me once again.