Chapter 4 Jack #2
Clara grips the straw of her third mojito and swirls it around her glass.
After Mel and Winnie left, we took over the love seat by the fire and Clara’s been questioning me on Fraser Falls ever since.
I expected her to sit in the empty chair on the opposite side but she slid herself into the tight space beside me.
We’re twisted slightly to face each other, so close it eliminates any reason for her to lean in. Her body is relaxed against mine. I try to return the questions that she’s firing at me, but she’s more interested in asking them.
“Biggest town scandal…” I scratch at my jaw while I think it over. “Teen pregnancy. Resulted in Sailor, my goddaughter, who belongs to Tommy’s brother, Luke.”
“Teen pregnancies happen everywhere. What’s so scandalous about it?”
“Luke got down on one knee to propose to Dove and she told him to get up. They weren’t even dating, they just grew up next door to each other and made a pact. They still live next door to each other. Healthiest parent relationship I’ve ever seen.”
Clara takes a sip of her drink. “I was sorta hoping for a cult or, like, a murder you all made a promise to cover up forever or something.”
“Closest thing we have to a cult is book club. Sorry to disappoint.”
“What’s your biggest scandal?” she asks.
I have too many from my teen years that I wouldn’t ever want to admit to.
They’re not fun, laughable moments for me.
I search for one she might like. “Butt-dialed one of my neighbors while I was working out and they started a rumor I called them while I was having sex.” Clara’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm; with wide eyes, she pinches her lips together to keep in her reaction.
“It got brought up at a town meeting and it made me die inside. I was only twenty-three.”
It’s enough to tip her over the edge and she howls laughing with her forehead pressed to my shoulder. When she eventually recovers, she apologizes, the multiple mojitos she’s had giving her a giddiness that’s endearing.
“I’m trying to figure out what your workouts sound like for someone to think that’s what you were doing,” she says, her brow furrowed.
“I haven’t had enough drinks to give you an example.”
“We have time.”
The hours blur in the warm flicker of the fireplace.
I like her. More than I should ever like someone I just met. I do finally manage to sneak in some questions. I learn she loves food, specifically breakfast food and Italian. That she lives alone in Manhattan. That her favorite movie is Pretty Woman .
But then she’s back on me.
There’s something about the way she watches me talk. Like she genuinely cares about what I have to say. It’s been a long time since anyone has wanted to hear me talk about anything other than the doll. That’s my favorite thing about her: she hasn’t once brought up work.
Eventually, the tavern is empty. Tommy starts wiping down the bar, giving me the look he always gives me when I linger too long without offering to help.
I glance at Clara, who’s finishing her drink.
“Come on,” I say. “The B I do the same.
Our breath clouds the air in front of us.
Fraser Falls is nearly silent, just the sound of our footsteps and the distant barking of a dog.
“I’m surprised more people don’t know about how dreamy this place is,” she says, pushing her hands into her pockets.
“We had more visitors last year than in the past. Hoping they come back this year, but who knows. Flo has this dream of us hosting a big Christmas market like they do in Europe, but we need consistent visitors to make that happen.”
She looks up at me, her breath visible between us. “I can see why. I’d come.”
We reach the front steps of the B & B. The porch light flickers above us, casting her face in soft gold. She turns toward me, still wrapped up in her coat. “I’ll send you the first invite when it happens.”
She looks at her feet, then back at me, still smiling. “Thanks for the drinks. And the walk. And the invite back.”
“You definitely need to go to Maine tomorrow? I could find a lobster for you. Can’t promise rain, but could probably find a sprinkler system or something.” I smile, trying not to let my sadness at the night ending show.
“I definitely need to go to Maine tomorrow,” she says, sounding disappointed. “I wish I could stay.”
“I wish you could stay too.” There’s a pause that stretches out too long, where something could happen, should happen. I want to kiss her. I should kiss her and I don’t know what’s stopping me. Rejection ruining a perfect night, maybe? I don’t know.
“I should get inside, it’s cold. Good night, Jack. Thanks for giving me such a warm welcome.”
The moment passes and I’ve missed my chance.
I nod. “Good night, Clara. I mean it, come back anytime.”
She studies me, then smiles. It’s a little pensive, like she knows the moment is gone too. She squeezes my arm affectionately before disappearing through the main door, and I stand there for a beat longer, hands buried in my pockets, cold settling into my bones.
I take back what I said earlier. Not every new visitor is unwelcome.