Chapter 38 Clara
D ODGING YOUR FATHER’S CALLS SHOULD be considered an endurance sport.
It makes me just as sweaty and tired as any sport would, the only difference is there’s no real reward at the end, because eventually I’ll be forced to pick up the phone.
Just not today.
Today is the toy drive and I’m too excited to let a lecture about whatever’s on his mind ruin my day. Or worse, he found out about Flo’s videos before I’ve told him myself.
That’s a problem for later. Today I refuse to let the ticking clock ruin my day.
Dove is in charge of the toy drive recordkeeping, her mom’s old role. The truck driver called an hour ago to let me know he’d be arriving at the town hall around now.
Collecting donations has been more of a hobby than a task to complete, and I know that there are people who now hate to see my name in their inbox. I don’t care. I’m perfectly happy to be a shameless pest to people who have the money to give.
I spot Dove upon entering the storage room, her face obscured by a wooden clipboard. She looks over it, squinting and widening her eyes. “I printed my list too small and it’s making my eyes hurt but I don’t want to waste paper,” she explains.
“Flip it over and print it on the back,” I say, putting her vegan croissant and oat milk latte on the table. I can tell that it immediately puts me on her nice list.
She looks at me like I just cured a rare disease. “This is why you get paid the big bucks in the big city.”
“ Moderately-sized bucks would be more appropriate.”
“You’ll get the big bucks when you get your promotion,” she says confidently.
“I think they already gave it to my brother,” I say, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“He wanted to go for lunch to talk before the charity gala, but I told him I’m not leaving until I have to.
We’re not lunch-to-talk kind of siblings, so it’s weird.
Like, we do go to lunch, but we make small talk and bitch about petty things.
We’re not serious-lunch-meeting kind of siblings. ”
“If my brother asked me to go for lunch with him, I’d think he’d been kidnapped or something and it was his cry for help. But that sucks, I’m sorry. Maybe it’s your sign to quit and work for a less morally bankrupt company?”
When Dove and Sailor visited me last week, aside from serious toy drive chat, we bonded over brothers and family business. Dove told me about how her brother basically left her to work the farm herself when their parents died, and even now he’s reluctant to ever come back to Fraser Falls.
I told her about the promotion I’ve been working toward for two years, and how I was struggling to see my goals here and my goals at work as part of the same situation. Especially when it’s always felt like Max has a bigger foot in the door.
Max isn’t in any way a bad person, just like Dove’s brother isn’t, it just feels like they’re playing life on easy level when we’re playing it on medium. Maybe hard for Dove as a former teen mom with no parents around to support her.
It felt good to talk to someone who can understand loving your sibling so deeply and yet seeing them as this person whose motivations you don’t truly understand.
It was nice to hear Dove say she struggles to talk to her brother about even the simplest of things sometimes, because I’m the exact same with Max.
My life would be so much easier if I felt I could just ask him things outright, but I don’t.
Competing with each other has been our thing our whole lives; being vulnerable by asking him questions feels like showing my hand.
He’s always been the smarter sibling, but I’m the one who’s put everything into Davenport.
“Sadly, places don’t advertise whether they’re morally rich on Indeed.”
She smiles brightly. “That wasn’t a no! I’ll take it.”
We fill the time looking up the quickest way to wrap masses of presents. When the truck pulls up outside and the door slides open, we’re greeted with dozens of boxes.
“This is going to take forever,” Dove says, watching the driver begin to offload them onto the sidewalk.
“I’ll call Jack and see if he can come over and help. He might be able to leave work for twenty minutes.”
Jack sounds bored as hell when he answers and is far too happy to be asked to skip work for a little while. He promises to call Tommy, too, and he’s the first to arrive.
“You have a shopping problem, Clara,” Tommy says, taking a box from our driver and carrying it into the building.
“It’s a donation!” I shout after him. “I don’t even know what’s in the boxes!”
“You’re not convincing,” Jack says, jogging up behind me. His lips press into my temple briefly, hand patting my butt as he passes toward the back of the truck. “I’ll grab that one, buddy.”
Dove and I grab a smaller box, mostly pretending to help until the truck is almost empty. One of her jobs is to record every single thing that gets donated so they can be appropriately distributed, so we start opening the large cardboard boxes and putting the toys on the long table to categorize.
Tommy drops a box in the corner and Jack puts one on top of it. “Done!” Tommy announces proudly. “I gotta get back to the tavern. Have fun with your clipboard.”
“Thank you!” we shout after him as he jogs off.
“Clara?” I turn at the sound of my name. Jack’s standing in front of a box he just opened. I walk over to look in, slightly scared the warehouse sent something totally random.
There are lines etched into his forehead. “What’s up?”
He gestures to a brightly colored robot in the box. “These are Davenport toys.”
“I know. It’s a donation delivery I’ve been waiting for all week. I told you about it.”
I mentally go over every conversation in my head frantically. I told him I’d ordered a delivery of toys. I’m sure I did. My heart rate picks up as he looks over his shoulder at Dove, then closes the box. “I need to get back to the store,” he says sharply.
“What’s happening?” I ask quietly, anxiety spiking. I squeeze his forearm, desperate for some kind of answer. “Talk to me.”
The kiss to my temple is brief and cold. “We can talk about it tonight. I really need to go.”
All I can do is watch him leave. Dove walks to my side, watching him step through the door. “What’s his problem?”
It feels like I’m back to square one. “Me.”
Dove huffs. “Men. Ignore him.”
I MISCOUNT THE STUFFED TOYS so badly that Dove kicks me out of her cataloging session.
Heading over to Jack’s makes me feel like I’m volunteering to step onto a sinking ship. That stomach-wobbling unsettledness when you know you’re walking into something bad, but you don’t know what.
This place is making me soft because I’ve walked into fire before and escaped unscathed. I’ve never worried about what a man might say to me or how I might feel afterward.
But this isn’t any man.
He’s already upstairs when I head into the store instead of walking the long way around. Nancy gives me the nod to use his workshop as a shortcut to the stairs, and I take it as a positive that my access hasn’t been rescinded.
I knock and wait for him to open the door, unsure what kind of mood I’ll find on the other side of it. Elf rushes to my feet, whipping Jack’s legs with his tail as he sticks his face between my knees. “Hey,” I say carefully.
“Hey. You want a drink?”
I follow him into the kitchen, lean against the counter. “Sure. I’d really like to know how I’ve upset you.”
He leans against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, mirroring me. It feels like there’s a mile between us. “You haven’t upset me,” he says.
“But you’re upset. You’re hardly looking at me. Just come out and say it, Jack. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”
“Davenport toys, Clara.” He drags his hand over his hair, his head shaking gently. “You filled our town hall with fucking Davenport toys. The company that screwed us over. The toy drive is Fraser Falls’ chance to give back to the community, and we’re giving them Davenport toys.”
He says my last name like it’s a dirty word he hates to have on his lips. I stare back, not saying anything. Stuck between understanding, hurt, and anger.
“I didn’t think it mattered—it’s for charity. I told you I had a huge shipment of toys coming and you didn’t say anything.”
He rubs his fingers against his temple. The exact spot where I kiss him when I wake up. “Because I thought you’d bought them.”
“Are you kidding me? You told me you didn’t want me to throw money at things!
I’ve raised thousands of dollars for Dove’s toy fund using literally every person and business contact I have.
Would you seriously have sick kids or kids who have nothing go without gifts just because of who their manufacturer is? ”
“You’re simplifying things, Clara. It isn’t like I’m annoyed you bought Nike when I prefer Adidas. You know how I feel about the company. What can I say to my neighbors when this shows up as some kind of good-news story online?”
“It won’t. Nobody knows, I placed the order myself.
I didn’t need authorization, it isn’t on anybody’s radar except Dove’s, who I talked to about it before I even did anything.
” I laugh humorlessly, pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers.
“She gave me a lecture about microplastics in the ocean, then helped me choose what to order.”
“Is this your way of telling me that I’m the only one upset about this?”
“It’s my way of telling you that there isn’t some great conspiracy. We… I was trying to do the best thing for the kids. Maybe I should’ve just bought them and let you be mad at me about that instead.”
“Clara,” he says, trying to interrupt, but I don’t let him.
“I worked on some of those donations. Some of them in the design and innovation departments, some just marketing campaigns, some market research. Some of them I hauled from the stockroom over and over during holiday rush when I was just in high school and trying to survive working in retail. I’m proud of those toys. They make people happy.”
“This isn’t about you, this is about the message I’m trying to spread. I still don’t want people to shop with them. I still think you’re too good to work there.”
“I’m sorry that we had this misunderstanding,” I say. “I honestly am. I totally admit I didn’t think enough about how you would feel. I was only thinking about helping sick and underprivileged kids.”
He pins me with a glare, folds his arms across his chest. “You’re making me sound petty.”
I look down to avoid him and shrug, playing with the sleeve of my cardigan. “If it walks like a duck…”
I hear his heavy steps on the floor; his socks come into view. The snowman ones I bought for him at the market. He nudges my chin up with his finger until I’m looking at him. “I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at them for the fact we’re even arguing over this.”
I think maybe in any other scenario that would feel like relief, but it doesn’t. We don’t have a shared common enemy. I’m not praying for Davenport’s downfall like he is. He doesn’t seem to realize that it would be my downfall as well.
“There isn’t a them , Jack. My name doesn’t just disappear into thin air when I slip into your bed,” I say, my voice tired.
My everything tired. “You’ve created this divide between me and the company in your head, and I get it.
I really do. What happened was unforgivable and I fully understand you holding that against the company forever.
We said ‘casual’ and ‘for now’ and I’m leaving soon—”
“Because the videos are down.”
At least I now know I haven’t been paranoid and there has been a strange energy between us. “Because this isn’t my real home, Jack. I can’t stay here forever.”
His eyes soften. “You know I don’t want you to go.”
“And maybe I’m on my own but I sort of didn’t imagine we’d just never speak to each other ever again. Even if we’re not going to be something, I at least thought we could be friends.”
“You’re not on your own.”
“Then you need to find a way to deal with it, because I want to progress at my family company. I want to add to our legacy and I want to make it a company I’m actually proud to be part of again. Max probably got this promotion, which sucks for me, but there will be future promotions and—”
His hand slowly drops from my face. “What promotion?”
“The promotion to head of innovation. I’ve been working toward it for years but my brother wants to meet to talk in person, so I think he’s going to tell me he’s taking it.”
“So you had an agenda the whole time you were here? It was never about proving anything? It was about a promotion.” His voice is hard and cold. He’s already taken two steps back. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Clara.”
“Don’t make this something it isn’t, Jack. Don’t make me the villain again.”
“You’re doing a damn good job of that yourself.”
I don’t want things to escalate, but anger is burning me from the inside out. “You won’t let me talk about my job or my family and you have the audacity to be outraged that you don’t know something about my job and my family? It was never a secret that I was here for my job, Jack.”
“No, I always knew who you were here to represent but I didn’t realize what was in it for you.
This whole time I’ve been telling you you’re too good to work for them, and you’ve been using your good deeds as a bargaining chip to climb the ladder.
Kind of paints it in a different light, don’t you think? ”
There’s a thud that only I can feel when my heart drops.
“I’m not standing here and letting you talk to me like this.
You’re always telling me to stand up for myself so I’m going to take your advice.
What I do with my career is my decision and wanting more for myself doesn’t undo how hard I’ve worked to help Fraser Falls.
” He doesn’t say anything. “I guess there’s no point in me hanging around. ”
“I guess not.” He leans back against the counter, and we’re back to where we started. Opposite sides of everything.
“I’ve really loved being in this town, in your world, for the short time I’ve had.” I hover in the kitchen because I don’t know what else to do. I want to hug him goodbye, I mostly want to burst into tears, but I do neither. “Thank you.”
Jack looks like he’s going to tell me to stay. A flicker of regret across his face that I might’ve imagined. He doesn’t.
I wait until I’m back at Maggie’s with packed suitcases before I start crying.