Page 36 of Wood Riddance
Across from me, Alicia’s eyes lit up. “Have you met her?” Dammit, the wheels in her head were already turning. If Merry didn’t pipe down, I’d be hearing about this for months.
“Yup. When I went to work with Dad. Miss Adele takes apart engines and listens to cool music.Andshe’s the boss. She even let me play with her super cute dog.”
I shot a look at Alicia, then Mike. Both wore grins and were sitting ramrod straight, hanging on Merry’s every word, enjoying this way too much. They’d both been on my case about dating lately. Ever since they’d transformed into a pair of those smug coupled-up people who wanted everyone to be, as Merry says “all heart eyes at each other.”
Sadly, I didn’t see a future like that for myself. Especially not in Lovewell. Not that they would take no for an answer.
Alicia turned her smile on our daughter and only encouraged her more. “Sounds like you really like her.”
Merry bounced on the wooden bench beside me, making the tabletop shake. “Yes, I do! She’s so cool. Dad should ask her on a date.”
* * *
Merry was snuggled up with her mom, ready for the fireworks show to begin, but I needed to move. The warm night had sweat collecting along my hairline and down my spine, and the crowd was making me itchy. I couldn’t fake smile at one more person. So I walked up the riverbank toward soldier’s hill. The hillside was patched with brambles, but I hiked up through the trees nevertheless, ignoring the way they caught at my jeans, until I found the small clearing that overlooked the town.
The noise from the festival was a dull murmur up here, and the peace that settled in any time I was in nature finally allowed me to take a deep breath. I had always loved town events and enjoyed seeing my friends and neighbors, but tonight, it was almost intolerable. Why did my neck itch? Why was I feeling so hyper-defensive?
Finally letting my shoulders drop, I propped myself up on a bolder and considered the idea that my hometown may never feel like home again.
“What are you doing here?”
I startled at the interruption and turned toward the voice.
Adele was heading up a well-maintained path that connected another area of town to the clearing. She was wearing shorts that showed off her mile-long legs and a hoodie. She had a flashlight in one hand and kept it pointed at the ground.
“Just came up for some quiet,” I said, my face heating. I was not the kind of guy to get flustered around women, but this woman unnerved me. Threw me off my game each and every time I was in her presence. Maybe it was her unabashed dislike of me. Or maybe it was the ache that gnawed at my gut every time I laid eyes on her.
She trekked over but made sure to keep her distance. God forbid she get within ten feet of me. “This is my secret spot.” She surveyed the river and the green below us. “I don’t really like fireworks, so when I was a kid, I’d climb up here and wait them out. It’s the perfect place, really. You can still see them, but the trees muffle the sound.”
I nodded, secretly pleased that Adele Gagnon was scared of fireworks. Made her seem almost human.
But then she had to go and ruin it. Tossing a glare in my direction, she reverted to the tone she seemed to reserve only for me. “So get outta here.”
“I was here first.” I shrugged and went back to my perusal of the landscape. “And maybe I need the quiet too.”
She was silent for a moment, and she didn’t move. When I finally dragged my attention back to her, she was glaring at me, her eyes pure fire. But in an instant, that fire banked and was replaced by an emotion I’d never seen from her. Remorse.
She put her hand over her mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’ve been to war. I didn’t make the connection.”
“It’s okay. It’s not a PTSD thing. I needed a break from the festivities, but I appreciate your concern.”
Her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Thank you,” she said with uncharacteristic kindness. “For your service, I mean.”
“You don’t have to.” I kept my response simple, doing everything I could not to revel in the respectful way she was speaking to me for once.
She squinted. “Yes, I do. I may not like you, but I still appreciate and value your service to our country.”
I gave her a salute. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Her face morphed from kind to enraged in seconds. “Did you just ma’am me? Do you want me to throw you off this rock ledge?”
“There she is.” I laughed. “I was worried for a moment.”
“You’re a dick,” she spat.
“That would be Lieutenant Commander Dick to you, ma’am,” I said, delighting in riling her up.
Arms crossed over her chest, she turned toward the river, where the fireworks show was beginning.
