Page 35 of A Class of Her Own

I wasn’t against that concept. If you’re a jerk to people, people will be a jerk to you. I mostly thought of it more as actions and consequences. I’d never thought to level up by putting certain thoughts into the world. It gave me something to chew on as we finished inventory. Like, how could I use this manifesting thing to help me with social change in my area.

I asked Willow a few questions about Steve, and that was all it took to get her talking cheerily about him and her plans for the holidays. She was hoping to meet his son, JB, but didn’t know if it was too soon or not, yada, yada, yada.

As I pulled into my driveway several hours later, I felt a sense of bad juju coming from all those holiday decorations. It was time for this to end. So, even though I was bone tired from helping Willow all day, I bundled up and went to work at taking down the tacky, overdone revenge decor. Maybe this one good action would send some of those good vibes back my way.

When I finished, I delivered my tickets and fees to Hazel, who accepted them, and my empty yard, with a kind and slightly sad smile. I’d be eating ramen noodles for the holiday season, and maybe into the new year, but at least my record was clean. Hopefully the universe would reward my good behavior.

CHAPTER TEN

I could tell from the sunlight streaming through my blinds the next morning that today was going to be one of those slightly warmer, delicious winter days. It was early, but I’d never been good at sleeping in, even on weekends, so I stretched and scratched at Betty’s soft fur for a moment before I threw back my covers and made my way to my bedroom window. I opened the blinds, intending to take in the view of the sunrise, but my eyes were caught by something black and white, waddling along the top of the snow before disappearing under the trampoline in my backyard.

When I’d purchased this little two-bedroom townhouse a few years back, it had been from a family who had outgrown it. But during their time here, they’d installed an in-ground trampoline that took up practically the entire sliver of back yard. I typically took it down for the winter, but this year I hadn’t gotten around to it. Because of that, I’d inadvertently created a booby trap for woodland creatures as it appeared that a skunk had fallen between the springs and was now residing—perhaps against his will—underneath.

Either that, or a neighbor cat was down there. I hadn’t gotten a real close look before it disappeared. I bit my lip and watched to see if anything popped back out. Cats were climbers, so it should be able to rescue itself. But, then again, the springs weren’t terribly far apart, so if the poor cat’s aim was off at all, it could be repeatedly slamming its head against a spring and getting shot back down into the darkness beneath.

Spurred on by this thought, I hustled to the bathroom to use the facilities before slipping on a knit cap and my big winter coat. I had to investigate, and it was always best to do that with an empty bladder. I may not have birthed children, but at thirty-five I no longer trusted my bladder to withstand jump scares.

Betty followed lazily alongside me as she always did in the mornings, brushing against my ankles as I walked and doing her level best to trip me up. But today I was moving faster than usual, and she was left behind with a soft meow as I went into the kitchen, slipped on my boots, and went out the back sliding door. From here I could see the pawprints and maybe what looked to be a dusted trail behind it. Cats didn’t typically drag their tails, so it was pretty likely I was dealing with a skunk.

Did skunks live around here? I wasn’t that close to the mountains, living down on the west side of the city where the roads were flat and packed with homes. I wasn’t used to seeing creatures in my neighborhood. I reached into my pocket, glad I’d grabbed my phone. I was hoping I could stay far enough away to be out of spray range but use the camera feature to zoom in and see what was going on.

When I was as close as I dared to get, I heard a shuffling noise under the trampoline, and I jumped back several inches, holding my phone out in front of me like a shield. A tiny, six-inch-long shield. Rolling my eyes at myself, I turned it around and turned on the camera, zooming in until I could see two eyes in the shadows. It was looking at me. It wasn’t hissing or making a sound, and its backside seemed to be pointing away, so I dared to creep forward until I could confirm that, yeah, it was a skunk. And it was bigger than Betty. I snapped a fuzzy picture and headed back into my house to figure out next steps.

After hanging up my winter gear and making a cup of hot tea to warm up, I got online and did a little research. Turns out skunks are happy to live anywhere because they’re garbage eaters and opportunists. They usually slept in the winter, but it’s not a full hibernation, and, when temps aren’t too cold, they’ll forage in the night. My best guess is that the little trampoline prisoner had been making his way back to his den when he was bamboozled by the springs and slipped through the cracks. There was a lot of unhelpful but concerning advice about how they carry rabies and you don’t want them in your yard because they’re territorial. Also, a huge section on how to get the stink off your body and clothes should they spray. But probably the worst bit of information was when I read that they’re not good climbers.

The skunk was stuck, and I was his only hope. I couldn’t let him starve under there. I couldn’t trap him and relocate because getting a skunk trap under there without disturbing him and getting a face full of skunk gland juice sounded impossible. So, while I made some toast and cut up some fruit, I thought about all my options. The one I landed on was pretty out there, but after looking up critter catchers in the area and finding out it costs hundreds of dollars to have them come out, I was desperate enough to attempt it.

Desperate enough that I threw on clothes, put back on my knit cap, and drove over to Brooks’s house with determination. I was dirt poor thanks to paying all those HOA fees, and I was about to do some good old-fashioned begging from the one person I knew for sure would have what I needed.

He answered after a few knocks, looking sleep rumbled and disappointingly adorable in a snug white tee and flannel pajama pants. His hair was standing up, and a yawn filled up his face as he leaned against his doorframe and looked at me. I’d seen him do that lean before and was starting to think it was his favorite position to stand in. He looked warm and cuddly, and I had to step back a little to keep from reaching out to touch him.

I swallowed and shoved that absurd thought down. “Hey. I need wood. Specifically, two long thin pieces and several shorter pieces. I’m building a ladder.”

He yawned again and nodded. “Of course you are. It’s like 6:30 in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.”

“On a Sunday.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s still dark outside.”

I glanced up and pulled a face, putting on a show of confidence I wasn’t really feeling. “Not true. The sun has risen. Either way, I’m too broke to go to the store, and I know you have supplies. I’ll go pop my trunk.” I spun around and headed to where I’d backed my car in. “Hey, could you open your garage?”

He shook his head and closed the front door, but he hadn’t said no, so I popped my trunk and then turned to face his garage door, waiting. It took him a minute or two, during which time I questioned every single thing about this situation. It was pretty brazen of me to show up here, asking for him to supply my project. We weren’t even really friends. Of course, we weren’t exactly enemies anymore either, but . . . yeah.

I stomped my feet and rubbed my hands together, then paced a few steps to get some heat moving in my limbs and to help with the worries that I’d done something rash. As I moved I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. It was shaping up to be sunny, and I was here for it.

The squeaking of his garage door had me turning back around. He appeared wearing jeans and that military jacket along with boots. His soft white tee had stayed as part of the outfit, and he hadn’t bothered to fix his hair. He could easily be on the cover of one of Ruby’s romance books and a flutter raced through my stomach.

“Okay, what exactly are you looking for, and why is this immediately necessary?” he asked, his voice still sleep roughened. Cue another flutter.

“I’m thinking two long pieces, maybe four feet long. They need to be small, though, like one by one, if you have anything that size.”

He nodded, rubbing his hand over his beard, as he moved to a back corner of his garage. “I have a few scraps that might work. What’s this ladder for? A garden gnome? It’s not going to hold much weight.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just . . . a thing I’m making. Doesn’t need to hold more than, maybe, fifteen pounds?”

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