Page 11 of A Very Barrie Christmas
Raindrops tapped against the shingled roof as he searched for the proper supplies. Once he found a block plane and some sandpaper, he set to work, accompanied by the pleasant acoustics. Did Juliet enjoy writing in the rain? He imagined shedid and pictured her typing away in the cozy ambiance of Frank’s study, surrounded by books. In his vision, her loose lock of hair fell across her face while she typed, and she gently brushed it aside before returning to her task, her graceful fingers flying across the keys.
Ugh.He had it bad. He needed to think about something else before his imagination got carried away. Determined to push all thoughts of Juliet out his mind, he slid out his phone and dialed the shelter. While it rang, he settled the cell between his chin and shoulder, sanding down the table leg while he waited.
“Forgotten Heroes.” Nate immediately recognized the familiar voice of the fresh-faced staff member who volunteered in addition to a full course load at the College of San Mateo.
“Hey, Trevor. It’s Nate. How’s it going?”
“Good, man. What’s up? Where ya been?”
“Visiting some new friends. Is Dozer around?” He’d dubbed his latest mentee Dozer—short for Bulldozer—because the bulky marine had the sort of broad, muscular build that could bust through a brick wall with minimal effort.
“Yeah, I just saw him in the cafeteria. Hang on.” He heard the telltaleclunkof Trevor setting the phone on the desk, then a few minutes later, another, more gravelly voice filled the speaker.
“Hey.”
“Hey, D-man. Just calling to check in.” Dozer had been at the shelter for two weeks, struggling to stay sober. “How’s that book I loaned you?” He’d passed alongRemarkably Bright Creatureswhen he’d finished it, hoping the themes of hope, belonging, and redemption resonated with his downtrodden friend.
“Dude, did you know the main character is an octopus?”
Nate stifled a laugh. “Yeah, I picked up on that.”
“I thought it was weird at first, but it’s pretty cool, I guess.” After a short pause, he asked, “When are you coming back?”
“In a few days. So, don’t think you have time to sweet-talk yourself into becoming Hazel’s new favorite while I’m gone.” They had a running joke that the grandmotherly volunteer who worked the breakfast shift gave Nate extra bacon because she liked him the best.
“Oh, it’s already happening. This morning, she spread two scoops of jam on my toast. It won’t be long before that extra bacon is all mine.”
They bantered for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. Nate hung up the phone, relieved Dozer didn’t sound as depressed as usual. He worried about the guy more often than not. In many ways, he reminded Nate of himself before he met Susan.
Setting the table down on the ground, he checked the wobbly leg.Perfectly balanced. Pleased with the improvement, he put the tools back where he found them, then braced himself for another sprint through the rain.
He’d call Dozer again in a day or two. He knew better than anyone the importance of having a support system. And when you didn’t have one, how dark and desolate the world could become.
CHAPTER 7
FRANK
Later that night, Frank sat in bed with a copy of the detective novelBlack Coffeepropped open on his lap. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the page, but he wasn’t focused on the words.
His beautiful wife emerged from the small en suite bathroom in her long flannel nightgown, her shimmering sterling hair in a loose braid down her back.
He readjusted his reading glances, briefly lamenting the slightly fuzzy outline of her slender form. How did he get so lucky to marry such an angel?
He’d been in love one other time, and losing Edith when he went off to war had led to the darkest period in his life. A period when he’d shut himself off from the world, too afraid to feel anything other than his misery and loneliness.
In a way, he admired Private Henderson for emerging from his own “Dark Night of the Soul” to embrace life and experience all the magic and wonder available to him, even if it meant relying on the kindness of strangers. It took courage to accept someone else’s help and hospitality, and the boy did so with an openness and humble gratitude that spoke volumes about his character.
“Nate seems like a lovely young man,” Beverly said as she slipped into bed. Beautifulanda mind reader; he really had hit the jackpot.
“No complaints so far,” Frank offered, not one to be overly verbose with his compliments. He’d appreciated the way Private Henderson had insisted on washing his own dishes after coffee and dessert and how he’d carried in a load of firewood without being asked.
“That’s high praise, coming from you.” Beverly smiled and reached for her worn copy ofWives and Daughterson her nightstand. “I really enjoyed having him around tonight.”
Frank had to admit, he hadn’t begrudged the boy’s company, either. After he fixed the table leg, they watchedMiracle on 34th Street. Private Henderson helped Bevy string popcorn and cranberry garlands, and the two chatterboxes took turns sharing tidbits about the historical origins of jolly old St. Nick, which meant Frank could sit and watch the film without participating in all the chitchat his wife usually initiated in the evenings. Not that he didn’t enjoy the occasional conversation, but he typically ran out of words well before she did.
“He’s remarkably well-read,” Beverly noted. “He and Juliet have a love of books in common.”
Uh-oh. Why did she phrase it like that? “You like books, too, you know,” he reminded her.
