“It’s not that simple,” Parker said.
Emma groaned. “I might have known you’d say that.”
“But it’s true,” he said softly. “It’s a beautiful gift. I’m touched that you noticed the blue matched her eyes. Nic will love it. I know she will.”
“I agree.” Cocking her head, she asked, “So what is it?”
“I heard the saleswoman tell you about the quilter. It’s a mighty big gift for a teenager you barely know.”
Emma squirmed a little on the hearth. “I was being spontaneous for a change. I’m not exactly known for my spur-of-the-moment decisions. That’s why it felt good. I didn’t think about the cost of it, frankly. It’s beautiful. And think of it as a housewarming gift.”
Parker was used to counting every dollar and making some tough choices. He and Jackie, a teacher, hadn’t chosen fields that commanded big salaries. The offer in Colorado had come with a salary larger than anything he’d ever heard of for naturalists working in not-for-profits. For all that was worth. “It’s hard for me to think of it any other way but as extravagant,” he said.
“It is extravagant. But that doesn’t make it wrong. Besides, your reaction didn’t fit.”
“So, we get to the chip on my shoulder.”
“Uh-huh. I sensed it when your guard was down when you first met me. You didn’t expect me to be your age, for one thing.” She tapped her chest. “You were imagining the donor as a much older person. And maybe not someone as down to earth. You more or less came right out and said you knew how to handle donors. They’re annoyances you’ve had to put up with to do the work.”
Exactly, Parker thought. That was too close to the truth. That tension between the professionals and the funders was something he picked up at the very first nature center he worked in and the attitude was reinforced by every boss he had. He’d absorbed that tension like nutrients in food. Once in a while a demanding donor came along and reinforced the belief. “Do you sense that attitude from a lot of people?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Or maybe it’s not as poorly hidden as yours. You seem to wear resentment like a comfy sweater.”
“I could justify by saying I’ve had a few bad experiences,” he said, “but that’s too easy. You surprised me, though. That’s true. But it isn’t fair to you.” He wasn’t really apologizing, was he? He stood and grabbed the poker and stirred the embers around to revive the fire.
“When you asked if I might be interested in running the gift shop,” Emma said, “I’m sure you could sense me bristling.”
Even knowing what was coming, he had no impulse to flee. Emma meant too much to him already to settle for a flimsy truce. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I thought maybe you were tired of always being asked to do more.”
“Nothing like that. The gift store is a good idea. A means to an end, a way to support the sanctuary and local craft artists. But I visit the center because of the birds.”
“Yes. I had a feeling you would take to this work.” So why had he even suggested that she organize a shop? It’s like she’d changed hats and he hadn’t noticed.
“When Neil and I got married, I did all that doing kind of volunteering. I helped sort books for the library sale and organized charity auctions for the food bank in town. I served on more committees than I care to count. I became my mom.”
She stopped talking and stood and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’s loosening her muscles, Parker thought. He’d seen her do that before. This time, though, her expression was serious, thoughtful, as if she was choosing her words carefully.
“I never had a career, not like Ruby. She found her purpose—her passion—in dealing with the aftermath of trauma. But when I saw that owl and watched you tend to the gash above her eye, it was as if I found what I’d been looking for.”
She glanced up with tears in her eyes. He stood and took a few steps toward her. He smoothed his hand across her cheek, then leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Oh, Emma.”
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she said, “This must seem so ridiculous. But ever since my fall, I’ve put most of my energy in trying to get my old self back. But that old self had a missing piece. It sounds so trite, but I’ve longed to do something that matters.”
“That doesn’t sound ridiculous at all. That’s what we all want.” He took a deep breath. “But don’t discount what you make possible.”
“I don’t. I enjoy seeing my money used well.” She leaned in closer. “Full disclosure. I added extra cash to the fund for the renovation. You should know that, but I wish you’d forget about it.”
“C’mon, I can’t unlearn it, but you don’t want me thinking of you in that donor role. No need, Emma. I really don’t think of you that way.” She was standing so close and when he tentatively put his arms around her, she returned the hug.
“This is much better than sniping at each other in the gallery,” she said.
Parker smiled and pulled her closer.
CHAPTER NINE
THE NEXT SATURDAY morning, Parker positioned the cage outside, while Emma tried to hide her mixed feelings about sending the owl on her way. But if she was serious about this work it was something she had to get used to. Like Parker had said, once a bird was gone, there was nothing to do but get kennels and pens ready for the next visitor, assuming one would come along.
Emma had fallen into a rhythm with Parker. She felt expansive around him, sometimes even girlish. At home in the sanctuary, she was taking pictures with a seriousness she hadn’t allowed herself before.
“This is an exciting day,” Emma said, standing back and studying the owl. “She’ll always be the first bird I tended, other than filling the bird feeder in the backyard when I was a kid.”
Parker chuckled. “Big day for the owl, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport,” Emma said, scrunching her face in a disapproving expression. “That’s a given. But this is the owl who changed my life.” She’d been over and over it in her mind, finally realizing that she’d found her something more in a place she’d never thought to look. “This bird taught me so much...well, I should say you taught me a lot.”
She liked Parker even more for simply nodding to acknowledge what she’d said rather than try to deny it was true. His gaze took a detour and he raised his arm in a greeting. “Here come our friends now. Hmm...minus Peach.”
“I’m kind of glad about that,” Emma said, turning to watch Ruby and Mike walking toward them behind Jason, who’d broken into a trot. “As quiet as the dog is, she’s been known to chase the random bird or squirrel.”
“She is a dog, after all,” Parker said dryly. “It’s in her blood and bones.”
“Wow. That cage is hu...mon...gous.” Jason slowed down as he approached the cage, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
Emma grinned. “You’re right...hu...mun...gous.” Jason played with words like they were toys. The more syllables the better, so he could draw them out and exaggerate their sounds.
Mike pointed at him. “Your eyes look humongous, buddy.”
“Nic and I set up the cage we found here when we had a feeling she’d survive her accident but was hurt badly enough to need some help.” Parker gestured at the bird. “We had a feeling she’d be our visitor for a few weeks before we could let her go.”
“So, today’s the day,” Emma added. “She’s ready to fly off to her real home.”
“That’s why I invited you, Jason,” Parker said. “I thought you might like to see her up close. I’ve let a lot of birds go and there’s nothing quite like watching them soar high above you.”
“What’s her name?” Jason asked.
“Well, Jason, here’s the thing. This owl doesn’t have a name.”
“You could give her one, couldn’t you?” Jason asked, his young forehead wrinkled up
in thought.
Parker put both hands on his hips and took a deep breath. Emma had seen that shift in posture before, usually when the topic had special meaning to him. “I could. But it wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Why?” Jason turned his head to look up to his dad.
Mike rested his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “I’m sure Parker will explain.”
Parker smiled at Jason. “If you give an animal of any kind, like a fish or a dog or a bird, then it becomes a pet.”
“Like Miss Peach.” He smiled. “That’s Peach’s whole name.”
“Exactly. Your dog doesn’t just live with you, she’s a member of your family. You make sure she gets the right food and enough water. If she’s sick you take her to the doctor. But the owl is different. It’s not in her nature to hang out with a family. The owl wouldn’t like bunking up with you.”
“Peach sleeps on my bed,” Jason said. “She takes up the whole bottom half.”
Parker snorted. “I’ve had a dog or two like that myself. You’re lucky she gives you any space at all.”
Jason nodded. “Yep. That’s how it is.”
“You can play with Peach,” Parker said. “She brings you sticks when she wants you to throw them. She understands the game. Some dogs are supposed to bark at strangers. Some dogs herd sheep.”
Emma linked her arm with Ruby’s. Her friend looked amused by the conversation. Peach had been her dog first, but after she came back to Bluestone River, Peach’s family expanded, just like Ruby’s.
“But the owl has a whole different kind of life. It’s not in her nature to be around humans. We want to help the birds when they’re hurt or sick, but wild birds live in woods and the fields and they hunt for their own food. If the owl hadn’t been hit by a car and Nicole hadn’t found her, we’d never know anything about her.”
For reasons Emma couldn’t explain, a hush fell over them as the adults watched Jason stare at the owl. The owl stared back. Without understanding it, Emma had felt the power of that gaze. What gears were shifting in Jason’s quick brain?
Parker cut his gaze to Emma and she gave him a single nod, understanding his silent question.
Parker picked up his long leather glove. “Here’s what’s going to happen next, Jason. I’m putting on the glove to protect my arm from her talons and beak. Then I’ll reach in and take her out of the cage on my arm. You’ll stand back a little and we’ll see what happens next.”
Mike held on to Jason’s shoulders and backed him up. Emma became conscious of the cold morning air. It was a clear, crisp morning, with the lake sparkling under the sun. Any part she had to play with this particular bird was over, and Emma went to stand beside Ruby.
Without hesitating, Parker opened the cage and reached in, taking firm hold of the bird’s feet to keep her in one place. Using one arm he folded her gently against his body. Emma couldn’t keep her eyes off Parker carrying out the maneuver not only with skill, but with steady confidence. His confidence calmed her, but she didn’t have the first clue how the owl experienced any of it.
“Is this the part where she gets nervous?” Mike asked.
“Not so much nervous as hyperalert,” Parker responded. “This kind of maneuver is stressful and triggers a bird’s internal warning system. Probably more so now that she’s well—at least as far as we can tell.”
Parker put the owl on the ground and let her go, stepping out of the way fast. “It might take her a minute.” The owl lifted her wings and in a whoosh took off, flying, but not very high. She went to the corner of the wooden joint of the boardwalk railing twenty or thirty feet away.
Bringing Jason back into the conversation, Parker said, “She’s getting her bearings now. See how she’s lifting her wings?”
“Does she know where she is?” Jason asked.
“Well, that’s a hard question. She’s on alert now, but she doesn’t think the way we do—putting words together and communicating. But her brain sends her signals to guide what she’ll do. Like now.”
“Where will she go?” Ruby asked. “Or how far.”
Parker shrugged. “Hard to say. She could have a mate in these woods, or she’ll find one in the spring.”
“Are you gonna miss her?” Jason asked, his voice a little said.
Parker didn’t answer right away. Emma watched his face, sensing he’d be cautious about how to explain himself. She suspected he would miss seeing the owl every day, at the same time he had the satisfaction of knowing the bird was strong enough to go away.
“I’ll miss her in a certain way, Jason. But I’m proud that she can look after herself from now on.”
“Wow. You won’t get lonely?”
Parker grinned. “There’s a crow here still, but it will seem kind of strange not to have the owl around.”
“But you have other people,” Jason said, “and the owl will have other birds.”
“Exactly. Mostly, I’m glad Nicole found her and we could help her get well.”
Jason nodded. “That’s pretty cool.”
“It sure is,” Emma said. “You can picture the owl and all the other birds living in the woods right around your house.”
“Look, Jason,” Parker said, “there she goes.”
Emma shielded her eyes to watch the owl flying directly into the woods. She perched on a high branch in an oak tree left bare except for clumps of brown, drying leaves hanging from some of its branches. It acted like her camouflage.
“We can see her, because we knew to look, but she blends into the forest now,” Parker said.
“She seems so small when she’s that far away.” Emma allowed herself a small sigh. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m going to miss coming to see her every couple of days.” She looked down at Jason. “It can be hard for me to remember her job is to be an owl and not to entertain me.”
Mike laughed. “Right, Em. If you want entertainment, you’ll have to count on Peach.”
“She might stay close by for a time,” Parker said. “We never know.”
“Okay, buddy. It’s almost lunchtime,” Mike said, steering Jason away. “You need to let Peach out into the yard.”
“Why don’t you come back to the house and have lunch with us?” Ruby asked.
“Sounds good.” Parker looked at the cage behind him. “The cage can wait.”
Emma nodded. She’d expected Parker to beg off with some excuse. But he hadn’t and now their day would keep going.
She watched Jason run ahead with Mike, while Ruby stayed with her to wait for Parker to lock the building.
“Are you going to walk, Em?” Ruby glanced at Parker who was coming alongside them.
“I’m thinking,” Emma said with a sigh. Another decision point. Should she get her car or walk down the pebbly beach with Ruby. Almost every day it seemed a chance came her way to test her limits—or not. The walk appealed much more than a car ride. “I’m not giving up a chance for a walk with you.”
“Good,” Parker said.
Emma felt great that day anyway. Or even better, strong. She glanced to the tree where the owl sat. Like you.
* * *
“IT’S NICE TO be needed,” Georgia said, as she removed the cape and brushed hair off Parker’s collar. “You let yourself get a little shaggy, but I fixed you up.”
With his glasses back in place, Parker could see he was a much improved version of himself. “No kidding,” Parker joked. “I might have let it grow even longer if I hadn’t needed to see Mike next door and Maggie later about the center’s website. It’s my River Street errand day.”
“You don’t know how great it is to hear someone talk about River Street as the place to run errands and, you know, do business,” Georgia said with a pleased sigh. “We’re seeing a positive turnaround on the street. The Santa Party this year will help, too, and the bath and body shop opening in the spri
ng. Can a women’s boutique be far behind?”
A couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have cared much one way or another about these developments. But now he understood what was at stake. And he was part of it.
“I hope you’ll come to the center’s official relaunch on Christmas Eve.” Parker followed Georgia to the front counter and paid for his haircut. “White lights on the boardwalk, snow on the ground—we hope it stays.”
“We’ll be there.” Georgia gave him a look, simultaneously serious and lighthearted. “Like I was telling Mike, I’m glad you’re here. You add a lot to our little town.”
“Thanks,” he said, embarrassed. And surprised. In the mirror behind the counter he saw his cheeks were pinker than usual. Supporters made a big deal of the work, but Georgia’s words were personal.
“Don’t wait so long next time.” She tugged at the ends of her hair and sounded disapproving, but her smile gave her away.
“I’ll try, but I can’t promise,” he teased. It was only a few steps to Mike’s office, and he was still feeling good when he opened the door and the bell jingled. Mike was sitting in one of his reception room chairs thumbing through a catalog.
“Christmas shopping?”
Mike flipped the cover face out, where a sleeping baby was shown snug in a car seat. “Baby shopping. We get these catalogs almost every day now.” Mike snorted. “Ruby has left nothing to chance. This new baby will outgrow the clothes before she or he can wear them. Come on back. I’ve got the papers ready.”
Parker sat in the client chair and gave the papers a brief once-over before signing them. He pushed them back across the desk. “One day, Nic will own the cottage with her three cousins. Ten acres, woods and a lake. Sound familiar?”
Mike nodded, but seemed preoccupied. “Do you have a minute? There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Mike hit a few keys on his laptop and turned it so Parker could see the screen. “Ruby and I converted some of the old footage from video that my mom and dad took twenty or so years ago.”
The Christmas Kiss Page 13