“How do you do?” He shook her mother’s hand first then Heather’s, saving Emma’s for last. A stab of electricity ran up his arm at her touch. Her small fingers felt thin and frail in his calloused hand. The coolness of her skin only served to flame his already sweltering temperature.
He imagined tugging at his collar and asking if anyone else thought they needed to crank the air conditioning, but her skin proved otherwise. He had the problem.
The current ran to his shoulder, raising hair on his arms in its wake. His heart buzzed and flew. On instinct, he dropped her hand like a hot coal. If the pulse in his hand gave him away, she was sure to call the police. Perspiration dampened his neck. His ears hummed.
“What is it you do, Nicholas?” Mrs. Hastings looked interested. Couldn’t she see he was having a breakdown?
“I’m a carpenter and a botanist.” His voice sounded confident and even. A stroke of luck.
“A botanist?” Heather turned to her friend. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that one.”
“A landscaper?” Mrs. Hastings struggled to understand the connection. Everyone did.
“I do that too. My degree is in botany. I learned carpentry growing up and turned back to it last year. There’s not a lot of job openings around here for a botanist.”
“Have you tried the college?”
Nicholas froze. Emma’s voice surprised him. She never spoke to him. She ran whenever he saw her. Of course this time he’d cornered her and she had the protection of her mother and friend. His answer took too long.
“Yes. I applied at OSU around Christmas. I hope to hear back before fall semester starts.”
“Emma could show you around.” Heather smiled. She’d taken Emma’s sandwich. “She went there for a while.”
The words came deadpan. The women stopped moving. Mrs. Hastings’ glass hovered in her hand an inch above the table. Emma’s cheeks darkened and she stared at her empty plate. He hated whatever happened to take her eyes away from him. They were the color of jade milk glass. The kind his mother used to serve tea: muted, soft, inviting. Genuine.
“Nicholas’ going to work on the landscape project here. He’s hoping to save the willow.” Jackson pulled up a chair to their table and sat.
Heather bumped her elbow into Emma who looked horrified. He retraced the words. She didn’t want anyone to know she went to college? Mitchell said she came home early. His mind chased the thoughts in a circle getting nowhere.
“Emma’s working on a brochure for the lodge. Sounds like you’ll be seeing more of each other.” Her mother’s lips pulled tight to the side. “Delightful. It’s good to have friends.”
A tiny groan floated up from Emma’s small pink lips, but her eyes refused to look his way again. The agony shouldn’t have existed. He’d only seen them up close for a moment, not long enough to miss them, to crave them. He ran a hand over his neck expecting to find a gallon of water clinging to his skin and shirt. He didn’t.
“We should let you finish your meal.”
Heather tried to smile. Her mouth struggled around the remains of Emma’s sandwich.
The waitress appeared on cue. She waited until they turned back to their table and held a pen over her notebook. “Drinks?”
“Coffee,” the men said in unison.
Jackson returned his chair to the table they were assigned, allowing the women to continue their lunch. Nicholas folded himself into the chair across from Jackson. Lucky for him it also faced Emma. Difficult details of the project disappeared over coffee. He and Jackson made a great team, nailing specifics and brainstorming new ideas. Nicholas kept his eyes on his friend as much as possible, but he rubbed his palm against his thigh beneath the table. He flexed and bent his fingers where Emma’s small cool hand had been.
With the landscaping proposal figured out, Jackson started talking about the renovation of Emma’s barn to a photography studio. Nicholas’ eyes jumped to Emma. The ladies chatted and smiled over the remains of their meal. Each time Emma smiled, he smiled too.
“I’m glad you like the idea. Jillian worried you were too busy to stop by.”
“What?” Uh-oh. What had he agreed to?
“The bed and breakfast.” Jackson’s smile faded. He set his cup back on the saucer. “You were smiling. I thought. Of course you don’t need to be there.” He shook his head in apology.
“No. I’ll be there. Can you text me the details? If I don’t write it down I’ll forget.”
Jackson picked up his phone immediately. A few moments later Nicholas had the text. He lifted his phone without reading the words. Instead he watched the trio of ladies scoot away from their table and walk single file through the maze of tables toward the counter. None looked back.
“What did you think of the original gazebo proposal?” Nicholas forced his mind back to the task at hand.
“I think you need to add more seating. The lodge needs to expand, and they’re thinking revenue. Show them you can make it more beautiful and hold the added guests. Plus, add a new draw to our lake in the process. Do that and you’re golden.”
“Piece of cake.”
Jackson chuckled and raised his cup in a toast to the challenge.
****
After lunch, Nicholas headed to the willow. Another group of men stood swigging from insulated cups and eyeing his tree. The work boots and worn jeans told him they weren’t tourists. A man with blond hair and bleached out tips turned at his approach. His shirt said
Klumer
Construction.
Nicholas wanted to introduce himself, but his arm clung stubbornly to his side, refusing to reach in their direction. He nodded once and moved over the slope behind the tree where he liked to sit and think. From the looks of it, the grass wasn’t cut in a few days. His journal could be hiding in the grass. If he didn’t find it, he’d have to tell his mom at dinner. She’d be devastated. She’d trusted him with her father’s journal years ago.
“A cobblestone path is a nice aesthetic,” one voice behind him offered. The group discussed their plan for the lodge addition.
Nicholas toed the grass, trying not to get his hopes up. How had this happened?
“Tea houses are always a smart move. Something a little upscale to entertain the ladies while the men enjoy the lake,” another voice added.
Laughter caught in his throat.
Klumer
Construction must not have done their research. Everyone enjoyed the lake. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the Men Only signs around the water. Nicholas coughed into his hand and moved toward the lot. If all the other companies vying for the job were like
Klumer
Construction, he had nothing to worry about.
****
The long drive into the city passed in a blink. Mavis enjoyed the ride, jowls flapping in the breeze. She preferred the truck bed to the passenger seat, but highway travel made Nicholas insist on the latter. Mavis snorted, making a slew of hound noises as she took in all the new scents and sights. Nicholas swung into a parking spot under an oak tree.
“I’ll be back in less than an hour.” He patted Mavis’s head and slid out of the truck. “Sooner with any luck.” The hound stretched across the seat in his absence, enjoying the shade and balmy breeze. One long ear and two huge paws hung over the seat’s edge. Nicholas admired the ease at which Mavis lived her life.
“Lucky dog.”
In the waiting room he slumped into a chair and retraced his steps for the hundredth time. Where did he leave his journal? He’d been to the church to check on preparations for the Strawberry Festival. He spent time at his place, visited his mom, stopped by the lodge. His face fell forward into his hands. The more he thought about it the more he realized he’d covered the entire town that day. Most days. “Ugh.”
“Nicholas?”
Dr. Kennedy smiled down at him in a simple tan suit. She always seemed overdressed, though she never chose an actual color. Maybe she worried colors would set off one of her patients. Everything in her office mirrored her plain wardrobe. Tan carpet, cream walls, white woodwork. Even the furniture stayed in her brown safety zone.
“Come on in.” She waved a small circle with one arm. “How was your week?”
Nicholas sighed, both thankful and frustrated with their meetings. He could stop seeing her anytime he wanted. Making the decision took more energy than he could spare, so every week he set a new appointment and planned to mull the decision over later.
Inside her office, he slid into a brown leather armchair and stretched his legs out before him. He wondered if he looked like Mavis stretched out on the bench seat of his truck. People say pet owners start to resemble their pets.
“Well, tell me what I missed this week.”
He lifted his hands before letting them drop onto the arms of the chair. “Same old. I had a good week.”
“Panic attacks? Anxiety? Trouble sleeping?”
“Nope. Not in over a year now.”
Dr. Kennedy tapped a pen against her wide forehead and smiled. “Honestly, Nicholas. I don’t know why you come to see me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy our talks, but you’re past all this. What you need is a friend.”
“I have plenty of those. I know everyone. Don’t forget you’re the one who says I’m too busy. I’m a man in demand.” He gave his best boyish smile. This conversation was tired. He knew what she’d say next.
“Acquaintances are not the same as friends. All friends aren’t created equal either. You need someone you can talk to.” She flipped a hand up between them. “Not about the weather or sports. You need a confidant, and no, that doesn’t make you a woman.”
“I tell everything I need to tell,” his voice cracked as he remembered the problem, “to my journal.”
“A journal is not a person. Though I do approve of this behavior. What happened with the journal?” She leveled her gaze, never missing anything.
“I misplaced it.”
She shifted in her seat. The small movement would’ve gone unnoticed if he hadn’t studied her for years as she prodded him in turn. A long beat stretched out until he wondered if she wanted him to say something more.
“How are you doing without it?”
“Staying busy.” He tried to maintain eye contact, but she saw right through him. He knew it. His eyes moved liked traitors to the floor then the window before he pulled them back to her. She waited again.
“I’ll find it. I had it in the morning. Then lost it before dinner, but I didn’t leave Honey Creek. I’ll find it.”
“What if someone else finds it first?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek. Everything that mattered to him was on those pages. Thoughts of his secrets filtering through the town grapevine pierced his heart. Nicholas worked his jaw until it hurt. Time stood still. Only ten minutes had passed since he entered her office. Fifty more lay ahead. He needed a change of topic.
“I’ve lived in Honey Creek my whole life, except for my time in the service and college.” He shook his head. College seemed so long ago, like in a movie he watched instead of part of his life. “I thought I knew everyone, but I’ve been seeing a new face over and over again. What do you make of that?”
Dr. Kennedy rubbed her chin. “I don’t know. I think a better question is what do you make of it?”
“
Pfft
.” Nicholas folded his arms over his chest.
“Pregnant women often claim they see other pregnant women everywhere they go. Newly engaged people run into other wedding planning couples more often. Soldiers often see other men and women in uniform.”
“You think I have something in common with her?” The idea intrigued him.
“Her.” She lifted one thin eyebrow.
“No. Whatever you described. This isn’t like it. She’s not in the military. She’s young. As far as I can see, aside from sharing a town, we don’t have anything in common.”