29. Victoria
Chapter 29
Victoria
E ven as I gave Henri a big thumbs-up, my head was spinning. This had to be a dream. The weirdest dream ever. I pinched myself again, certain I’d wake up this time. Wrong. While I stood in the wide driveway, still trying to find my bearings, Henri was unloading his truck. Pallets of wood, wire fencing, and roofing materials. It was a big ask, but I didn’t have a choice.
The humane society had called me two days ago. They had seized them from a hoarding situation, and the girls were in need of an immediate placement. They were healthy, vaccinated, and laying eggs. I couldn’t say no. I’d take all the free eggs I could get.
Noah was helping Tucker carry some of the larger pieces. He was wearing a very tight T-shirt that showed off every muscle. I had the strange urge to lick every one of them. The sight of him like this was borderline obscene.
In the space of a few days, I’d become a horny teenager all over again. After years of little sex that wasn’t any good, then not even a sexual urge, I had become insatiable. I didn’t want to scare him off by being a perv, but holy shit.
Noah, I’d discovered, was a sweet single dad in the streets and a domineering, bossy stallion in the sheets.
Stop it, Vic. Stop fantasizing about your fake boyfriend, real friend, maybe fling. Get focused. Be professional .
Alice sidled up beside me and looped her arms around me, interrupting my thoughts. “So. Forty chickens?”
“Thirty-eight.” I grimaced. “And technically, they’re hens.”
She shook her head, but her smile was bright. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I’m ruining your weekend. I’m so sorry.”
“Not at all. We Gagnons love to help. I owe you about a million favors. Plus, I get to watch my husband build stuff.” She elbowed me and lifted her chin, gesturing to where the men were stacking wood.
“Also, there may be a condition—”
“Miss Vic!” Goldie Gagnon ran at me at full speed, cutoff overalls swishing and wild blond curls bouncing. She was a hurricane in eight-year-old girl form.
“Mom said you need our help and we have to follow directions and work together.” The words spilled out of her. “But.” She put her hands on her hips. “I wanna name a chicken.”
“Sure. Just one?” I assumed Goldie and Kali would claim naming rights to the entire flock.
“Mom said it would be rude to ask for more.”
Alice adjusted her daughter’s pigtails, tightening one, then the other. “Go help your dad.”
With that, Goldie was off, running at full speed again.
Alice surveyed the mountain of supplies. “We’re gonna do this.” Her eyes sparkled.
Her eagerness didn’t surprise me one bit. Not much got in Alice’s way.
She was a transplant, so I’d never met her until I came back to town. We hit it off quickly, and she persisted, badgering me into girls’ nights when I was drowning in work.
Her warmth and insistence on constantly bringing me food had done the trick.
Then she started volunteering at the food pantry.
And brought her kids.
And her husband.
Since Henri was part owner and the CEO of a timber company, he was a useful friend to have.
Hence all the free wood being used to build a mansion for my rescue chickens.
Noah approached, dusting his hands off on his jeans. He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “Don’t stress. We got this.”
I was doing my best not to. But it was virtually impossible knowing that I had two days to build a coop with proper ventilation, laying boxes, perches, and a door I could access for egg collection and cleaning.
Not to mention a predator-proof fenced run with a roof.
“I should have said no.”
“Nope.” He squeezed my side. “You did the right thing.”
“Henri made some modifications to the plans you found online. I’d be shocked if it’s not a luxury chicken penthouse when he’s done.”
“It’s a big ask…” I hedged.
My friends were giving up an entire weekend to help me.
“Ignore her,” Noah said. “Her first instinct is always to people-please. But we still love her.”
My stomach did a weird swoop in response to that word. Love . He hadn’t meant it in a deep, heartfelt way, but I couldn’t help but read more into it. Especially since we hadn’t defined our current situation.
I shook off the thought and focused on the chickens. On what having them here could mean for the food pantry. I started to do the mental math.
“Guys,” I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet. My mood had done a total one-eighty in a matter of seconds. “Each of these chickens will lay four to five eggs per week. That means I’m looking at adding more than one hundred and fifty to what I can give out every single week.”
Noah beamed at me as I did my chicken math.
Henri waved Alice over, but before she went, she poked Noah in the chest. “We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other, but I’ve got this one’s back.” She thumbed over at me. “She’s incredible. Don’t fuck it up.”
As she walked away, Noah broke into a grin. “She’s awesome.”
I swatted at his chest. “Get back to work.”
We spent the morning measuring, cutting, laying out the foundation, and planning.
Mid-morning, a giant truck rolled up, and Henri’s sister and Finn’s wife, Adele, hopped out.
“Someone order a backhoe?” she asked, her blond ponytail swishing.
“Just in time.” Alice waved at a patch of grass. “We’ve taped off the area.”
A backhoe? For what? With a frown, I looked between Henri and Alice.
“We’ve got to bury wire mesh,” Henri explained. “So predators can’t burrow in.”
Burrow? Shit. I hadn’t even considered that. God, I was already a terrible chicken owner.
“Henri did all the research when he built my coop.” Alice beamed at him. “Though we only have six. Plus you know Adele. That girl has never met a piece of heavy machinery she didn’t want to play with.”
The woman herself strode over, wearing a bright smile. Goldie rushed toward her. Tucker followed, moving quicker than any thirteen-year-old boy typically would, but according to Alice, he was Adele’s biggest fan. She often let him come into her shop and work on equipment with her.
Within minutes, she was in the cab and digging while Henri directed her and Goldie cheered.
“You’ve got quite a team,” Noah said, surveying them.
I bit my lip, suddenly overcome with emotion. These people, my friends, were giving up their weekend to help me. That thought hit me hard. For so long, I had felt alone. I assumed it would always be that way. That I’d be on my own.
But at this moment, I knew that wasn’t true. I just hadn’t found my people until moving back to Maine.
And for better or worse, the citizens of Lovewell were my people.
Henri, Noah, and Tucker stretched the wire and anchored it, then Adele covered it with a layer of dirt and drove over it in a zig-zag pattern to pack it down. I marveled at their efficiency.
Then the whole lot of us held the posts as Henri nailed the frame together. It was hard to hold still. I’d been dreaming of chickens for so long, and with every minute that passed, my excitement grew, making it hard to contain.
I was in charge of measuring and double-checking the plans as we went. Alice was surprisingly good with a hammer, and the kids were great at finding the right pieces of wood.
Occasionally, Noah’s T-shirt bunched around his shoulder muscles, showing off his bulging biceps and distracting me. I was only human, after all. He handled the huge beams easily, lining them up while joking good-naturedly with Henri.
Henri, who only ever smiled at his wife and kids, joked back. My heart panged as I watched the two men interact. Noah thought so little of himself. He always brushed off how special he was. I wished he could see how much value he added to the lives of the people around him.
In the afternoon, Jude arrived, hat pulled down over his eyes, with his toolbox and a circular saw in tow. He gave Noah a hug and shook Henri’s hand warmly.
While the rest of us were pouring concrete for the fence posts and framing the roof, Jude took Henri’s plans and whipped up six nesting boxes in rapid succession. The guy was a machine.
“You should call Gus,” he said while carefully showing Tucker how to use his circular saw. “He’s an electrician.”
Noah pumped his fist. “I forgot about that. Good call. He could do lights, heating, cameras, whatever you want.” He yanked his phone out of his pocket and tapped at the screen.
“Yes,” Tucker said. “You need cameras. Probably motion sensor lights too. They’ll scare off the raccoons.” He was a gangly teen with kind, dark eyes. He looked nothing like his mountain of a father, but they had the same posture and identical mannerisms. In Lovewell, he’d made a name for himself as the resident tech guru. He single-handedly kept the library computers operational and was constantly helping the town’s seniors understand their phones.
“Yeah,” Goldie said. “Raccoons are nasty buggers.” Stepping closer to me, she tipped her head back and put her hands on her hips. “Have you thought about paint colors? Could we do glitter? The chickens need something jazzy.”
I shook my head. This project was moving quickly, and it was growing in scope by the minute.
By evening, we were fully framed and the fence was up. Every person here was brimming with ideas, and Henri and Noah had been discussing where I should put a greenhouse. Apparently, it was time to think about growing my own vegetables.
My stomach was beginning to growl when Becca and Kali showed up with pizza.
“Brought dinner!” Becca said, her arms laden with several slim cardboard boxes. She let out a whistle. “Damn, you guys have been productive. I felt bad that I couldn’t be here to help, but it looks like you didn’t need me.”
Alice dusted off the old picnic table and waved Becca over. “Where did you get pizza?”
Lovewell did not have pizza. It was one of life’s great tragedies. But we survived. Heartsborough had an okay pizza place that would do if one was really craving it.
“The pizzeria,” Becca replied.
“It’s not open yet.” I opened the top box and took a big whiff of the greasy, cheesy deliciousness. “The windows are still covered with cardboard.” Rumors had been swirling since the empty storefront had been leased earlier this year. A sign had been erected and a construction crew had been there working, but the guys were from out of town, and they’d all been tight-lipped about it. Even the town gossips were in the dark.
Becca smiled. “Marco is my neighbor. He’s been firing up the oven and experimenting with recipes.”
Alice turned, her eyes widening. “Marco?”
Becca ignored her look. “Yes. As you all know, his shop is next to my salon. I met him a few weeks ago, and he makes incredible pizza.”
“You’ve tasted his pizza?”
“Yes. He brings his experiments over for Kali and me. He trained in Italy. This pizza is the real deal.”
I eyed Alice, who was already giving me a knowing look. This conversation was not over, but the kids had descended, cheering for pizza and grabbing slices from the box, so it would have to wait.
Becca procured a stack of paper plates, and Henri ran up to the gas station for a couple of six-packs of beer and nonalcoholic drinks for the kids, who ran through the yard and shrieked with glee as the air cooled and evening set in.
As I surveyed the people who’d gathered to help, I was struck with wonderment. These were my friends, the people I cared about the most. And they’d shown up. Not for me, but for this community. So we could build something that would help our neighbors.
“To the chickens.” Noah raised his beer. “May they lay a million eggs.”
“I think I’ll feature them on our Instagram and website. Make them the food pantry’s mascots,” I mused. “Try to work in some marketing and fundraising in addition to the million eggs.”
“You could offer naming rights,” Alice suggested
Becca perked up. “In exchange for donations.”
That was brilliant. I could use what we raised to pay for feed and upkeep. We needed every single dollar we could scrape together right now.
We ran lean and relied on volunteers and the generosity of the state and federal governments. As Alice and Becca had pointed out, I was the director and I was allowed a salary. But after I maintained our facility, paid all the bills, and provided as much food as I could to those who needed it, I only had enough left over to pay for my own health insurance.
I couldn’t keep this up forever, but day in and day out, I talked to people who needed help. Children, mothers, the elderly. It felt wrong to even consider paying myself.
So far, I was doing fine living off the money Graham had given me for the condo and my alimony. I hadn’t asked for a lot, and thankfully, he hadn’t really put up a fight. Mainly because he’d been fucking half of Boston.
Eventually, I’d need to figure out my finances, but tonight, I didn’t want to taint this feeling by allowing anxiety to creep in.
No, tonight I’d relish in the love and support this community possessed.
I’d eat my pizza, joke with my friends, and enjoy Noah’s comforting embrace. And the warm fuzzies I got every time he kissed the side of my head. Which, by my count, was seven times today.
“Can I take you home?” Noah asked once our friends all packed up and headed for their cars with promises to return to finish up tomorrow.
He pulled me to my feet and kept his hands locked with mine once I was steady. God, he was sexy. Even sweaty and dirty and wearing a ratty old ball cap. My legs felt like jelly as I looked up into his heated gaze.
“Yes, hotshot. Take me home.”