Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Max
Narrator: Well, that was nearly unbearable to witness. If it wasn’t for the tea being spilled about the feud, I might have looked away, but there was too much drama to keep me from leaving.
What do you think?
Does Max have it in him to take someone else’s ornament off the tree?
He’s no saint, that’s for certain. With the way this started between him and Betty, his intentions weren’t pure, but can we trust that he’s a genuine guy?
Or is there a secret side of Max that we don’t know?
“Max, open up.” Cole bangs on my front door.
Grumbling, I peel myself off the couch and open the door for him but leave it as I go back to my comfort zone.
I’ve been sitting here ever since this morning, when I decided not to partake in farm duties today and opted to catch up on some admin work.
Thank God for competent staff who can pick up the slack when I’m not there.
Cole shuts the door behind him and then joins me in the living room. He studies me for a second and then says, “Everyone has been sent home.”
I glance at him. “Why?”
“The storm,” he says. “Have you not been paying attention?”
“There’s a storm coming?” I noticed the winds have picked up, which causes power outages out here on the farm, but a storm?
“Yes. They’re calling for over a foot of heavy snow. Jesus, man. What the hell has been going on? You don’t show up to work today; you’re clearly not paying attention to the weather; you’re sulking around; you’ve been having secret meetings in the tree house with my wife—”
I sit up. “You know about that?”
“Yeah, of course I do, as it’s hard not to hear you two out there chomping on Crunch Tators. And then Storee’s been a mess, saying she’s worried about you. So . . . what’s going on?”
I drag my hands over my face as I say, “You don’t want to know.”
“Clearly, I do if I’m here.”
Yeah, and I know he’s not going to leave me alone until he finds out. Well, he’s going to regret it, because I’m a mess too, and I have no problem unloading all my problems on him.
“Remember the plan?” I ask, defeated.
“What plan?”
“The one I laid out in my diagram?”
“The one you drew in crayon?” he asks with a raise of his brow.
“Yes, that one.”
“Yesss,” he drags out skeptically.
“Well, Storee and I sort of got together and put it into action.”
“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, looking extremely frustrated when he sits in the chair opposite mine. He rubs his temples and asks one simple question, “Why?”
“Because I was desperate. Because I thought it would work. Because I thought I was being really smart and intelligent and stealth. But the problem is I didn’t think I’d start liking her while putting the plan into action, which I did.
And I didn’t think Dwight would get in the way, which he did.
And now it’s all a mess. She’s mad at me.
Won’t talk to me. And worst of all, she thinks I’m a barbarian bully who tormented Dwight in high school. ” Something I definitely did not do.
“Why would she think that?”
“Because that’s what he told her this morning. He told her that I bullied him. Tormented him. That I was the one who took his wish ornament off the tree, the one for Jessica.”
“What? He’s blaming that on you?”
“Yeah. And I have no idea why. First, he was the one who started being a fucking dick in high school, and instead of taking it, I just gave it right back, but I didn’t torment him.
Second, I’d never take an ornament off that tree.
It’s sacred. My parents taught me that from an early age.
But now Betty is under the impression that I lied to her, that everything I did was all about manipulating her opinion—”
“I mean . . . wasn’t it though? Wasn’t that the plan?”
I look up at my friend. “It was until it wasn’t. I liked her far too quickly to even try to manipulate her, and the wooing wasn’t out of revenge, it was out of interest. I can admit that now.”
“And did you woo her?”
I look my friend in the eyes and nod. “I fucking did.”
“Wait.” He pauses and then sits up. “Is that why you were there at Cupid Christmas Night?”
I smirk. “Yeah, dude. It was all planned.”
“You fucker. That was my one night out with my wife.”
“It was her idea.” I hold my hands up. “And you still had your night out. It just started with me, but it ended with her.”
“So what now? You like her, and she thinks you’re an ass?”
“Pretty much,” I say.
“So tell her you’re not.”
A gust of wind blows, and the lights flicker.
I glance around the room, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.
“Not that easy, man. Dwight convinced her that I’m a con artist, so anything that I say to her will be perceived as disingenuous.
” I glance outside, taking in the snow that’s starting to blow around.
“Dude, you should get home before it gets bad.”
He looks out the window as well and nods in agreement. When he stands, he asks, “Want to come with me? Pack a bag real quick. You know you’re going to lose power.”
“It’s fine. I have the Yeti battery packs and the generator, plus I stocked up on wood. I’m good.”
“Food?” he asks.
“Good on that too.”
“What about your mental health? Will you be okay alone? Maybe you should just come with me so you can at least . . . chat with Storee about this mess you guys got in.”
And see, he is a good guy. It’s times like this when I want everyone to see that my best friend isn’t a complete grump and that he really does care about me.
“I’m good,” I say. I head over to him at the door. “Seriously, you don’t want me sulking around your house. Plus I can check on the reindeer if I’m here.”
“I gave them extra feed, so they should be good, but yeah, I appreciate that.” He heads toward the door and grips the handle. “You sure?”
“Positive,” I say.
“Okay.” He lets out a deep breath and then turns toward me. “You’re a fucking moron for getting yourself into this disaster. Let it be known that I truly believe that.”
“Uh . . . thanks?”
“But,” he continues, “if you like her, then you have to set the record straight. Not sure how you’re going to do that, but you need to.”
“Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious.”
He pats my shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for. Let us know if you need anything. Stay warm.”
“I will,” I say, and then he takes off.
I grab my phone from my pocket and pull up the weather app. I quickly look over what’s coming my way and mentally go through the routine. It’s going to be a long, cold night.
Betty
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I say as I try flipping the breaker again, the wind whipping around me, snow getting thrust in my eyes. My nose is nearly freezing off my face.
When nothing happens, I realize that I’m absolutely fucked. I shut the panel and then head back to the front of the cottage, where I knock the snow off my boots and then get back inside.
When I shut the door, I shed my winter jacket and snow pants, drape them over the back of a chair, and rub my hands together, looking around my small cottage.
What the hell am I going to do?
Panic sets in because I have no electricity. Not even a backup battery anywhere. Believe me, I checked. My heat source has turned off. There is no way I’ll be able to drive anywhere, and even if I could, Dwight isn’t home. He left. So it looks like I’m hunkering down through this storm.
Since it’s colder in the loft area, I grab my blankets and bring them down to the living room, where I set them up on the couch to form a cocoon, wishing I had more blankets right about now.
I slip on a pair of leggings, then some sweats on top of those, double-sock my feet, and put on a long-sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt.
I grab my winter hat and slip that over my head, and then put on my bootie slippers as well.
I glance at Buzz. Worried about him, I cover his terrarium with a few towels, hoping that will keep him warm.
When that’s settled, I sit on the couch, wrap myself up, and then just stare out the window, watching large flakes of snow rapidly fall to the ground while the wind picks them up and moves them around at the same time, like some sort of snow tornado.
And because my heating source is turned off, I can feel the immediate effects of it. The heat is seeping from the cottage while the cold moves in.
It’s going to be a long, long night.
Max
Cole: Electricity turn off?
Max: Yup. But I have a fire going in the fireplace. Set up the air mattress down here and brought all the blankets. Generator is on hold. Yeti’s ready to charge anything I need. I’m comfortable.
Cole: Good.
Max: Is it bad over there?
Cole: Yeah, the lights are flickering, but I doubt we’ll lose electricity. We don’t tend to like you do.
Max: Which is why I’m prepared.
Cole: Storee wants to know if you’ve heard from Betty at all.
Max: No. Definitely don’t think I’m who she wants to talk to at the moment.
Cole: Not about that, about the storm.
Max: Oh . . . no . . . wait, fuck, I bet she lost power too. I wonder if she has any backup options. I haven’t been in her cottage, so I don’t know what she has going on in there. I doubt Dwight would leave her without the ability to keep the place warm if the power goes out.
Cole: Maybe you should check with her.
Max: Doubt she’ll respond.
Cole: Still check with her. Storee will send her contact information to you.
My phone beeps with another text message, and it’s from Storee.
I click on the contact and then pull up a text thread to type out a message.
Max: Hey, Betty. It’s Max. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from right now, but since the power went out, I wanted to check in on you and see if your power went out or if you need anything?
The storm is pretty brutal, and this will continue through the night. Temps as low as negative five degrees.
I hit Send and then call Cole and put him on speaker.
“Hello?”
“I sent her a text,” I say. “Doubt she’ll respond.”