25. Clark
Chapter twenty-five
Clark
M y chest constricts as I pull into Davis’ driveway. Pops is in the passenger seat with Chase behind us; a déjà vu moment from Christmas.
But this time, we’re not coming for Christmas. We’re coming for Clara.
Of course, Syd claims this is a fun barbecue to gather some people together before the summer rush. In actuality, the purpose of this gathering is for Clara’s best friend, Madison, to meet her friends in Noel.
I think I’d rather endure Christmas again than attend this cookout. Even though I’m friendly with everyone who will be in attendance, I don’t prefer gatherings of more than one or two people. Especially not a gathering in honor of the woman I keep unsuccessfully trying to erase from my daily thoughts.
Clara’s made good on her intent to visit Noel every month, usually twice a month. There’s no scientific explanation that could be used in a court of law, but I swear, every time she’s come to town, I’ve sensed it before even seeing her. Like her crossing the boundary of my hometown plucks a string tied to my heart, vibrating to announce her presence.
I might be going crazy.
After helping her with the smoke detector that night, I lay in bed, wide awake for hours. I attempted to analyze why I felt inescapably drawn to her when I naturally hold people a safe distance away. I’ve had no problem shutting down the efforts of the handful of Noel single women who have shown interest in me over the years. My close circle of friends is the same small group I’ve had since childhood.
Did my inner walls malfunction from the beginning with Clara because there was a physical wall between us for our first conversation? Is it the fact that she isn’t a Noel local, so her first encounter was with just Clark, not with Clark Noel ? Or is it simply something about her ?
I can’t put my finger on the exact reason I feel so connected to Clara. I also can’t sever the connection, try as I might. And it’s driving me insane.
Which is why I’ve tried to avoid her as much as possible. Unfortunately, that’s hard to do in a small town, so we’ve bumped into each other a couple of times. Last month, she caught me down at the river with Chase, who couldn’t hold his chill together in the slightest. He was all over Clara, exactly the way my instincts want to be. Watching her love on Chase made enough of a crack in my walls that I asked how her writing was going.
But then she peered up at me with those cornflower eyes, her cheeks flushed from walking outdoors, grinning from Chase’s affection. She asked me how the town was doing. And that string tying me to her was tugging, beckoning me to open up to her. To pour out all my worries and anxieties and fears about how I’m losing the one thing I have left. How it’s slowly dying under my watch.
So I took Chase and left.
I wish I could take Chase and leave now.
But this is the first time that Syd and Davis have attempted to plan something with Clara and me in the same vicinity. Ever since I let them have it about that Deer River Bar ambush, they’ve been less blatant, at least. Today seemed important to Syd, though, so I reluctantly agreed. On the bright side, this is getting Pops out and around other people for a while. And there will be more bodies here as a buffer between Clara and me, unlike dancing at the bar.
We make our way around back slowly since Pops is still refusing to use a cane. I hear the chorus of voices and laughter filling the air, along with the smell of the grill. Pausing to drop my offering of watermelon slices on the food table, I walk alongside Pops to make sure he makes it safely to a lawn chair. Junior scampers over to greet him, lured by the butterscotch candies Pops always hides in his pockets.
With Pops settled, I say a quick hello to Paul and Emily seated next to him, then move to the grill to see if Davis needs any assistance. I halt mid-step, taken aback by the sight of Clara standing next to Syd.
She’s wearing a baby-blue sundress that makes her eyes even bluer than usual. A few strawberry-blond tendrils escape from the ponytail she’s pulled her hair into. Clara is laughing at something her brunette friend said. The sound carries on the breeze straight to the deepest corners of my mind, where the fodder for my dreams lies.
My vision of Clara is interrupted by a hard clap on my back.
“You’re right—I see it now. You definitely don’t have a thing for Clara,” Davis says in a deadpan tone that’s canceled out by the mirth in his eyes.
“Shut up.”
“Hey babe, look who’s here!” Davis calls out to Sydney.
“Clark! So glad you could make it!” Syd says with an extra-wide grin, gesturing me over. She’s also wearing a dress, and Clara’s friend has on one of those shirt/short onesie romper things that are in fashion for reasons I don’t understand. Even Davis has on a polo shirt. I didn’t realize everyone was dressing up for this barbecue. I’m suddenly self-conscious in my plain black tee shirt and jeans, but at least I didn’t wear a ball cap today.
“Hey Syd. Hi Clara,” I greet as I walk toward them. Be a civil human being, man! I lecture myself, trying to shake off the way Clara flusters me. I hold my hand out to her friend and introduce myself. “Hi there, I’m Clark Noel.”
“Madison,” her friend replies. She shakes my hand and doesn’t even try to hide the way she’s eyeing me from head to toe. “So. We meet at last, Mayor Nole .”
She also doesn’t try to hide her exaggerated emphasis on my last name pronunciation.
Her greeting was a loaded statement if ever there was one. I clear my throat. “Um, Clark’s just fine. Welcome to town, Madison. Glad you could come for a visit with Clara.”
“Oh, she talks about this place and the people in so much detail, I had to come see for myself!” Madison says. Her tone somehow manages to sound lighthearted and threatening at the same time.
I notice Clara subtly poke her elbow in Madison’s side. The movement draws my gaze from Clara’s elbow up the curve of her shoulder, along the dip of her neck, past her perfectly pink lips, and up to her eyes. I’m paralyzed in starstruck silence.
Syd chooses this moment to be uncharacteristically considerate of my social awkwardness and asks me to help carry some things out from the kitchen. Addie is characteristically attached to Syd’s leg, so I scoop her up as we walk toward the house and blow raspberries on her tummy. That adorable toddler giggle melts even my heart.
Inside the house, Syd turns to me. “Clark, are you okay?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, pretending not to know. I focus on Addie scratching her fingers in my beard instead.
“I mean, are you going to be okay being here around Clara? I’m sorry I pushed things too far at the bar back in February, and I’m sorry if inviting you both over tonight is uncomfortable for you. But I honestly don’t understand why you get this uncomfortable around her.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I bluff.
“Liar,” Syd calls me out, hand popped on her hip. “You lock up like the Tin Man the second Clara steps into view. I know she’s pretty, but I’ve never known you to act weird around pretty women before.”
I bite my tongue from correcting her that Clara isn’t just pretty. She’s gorgeous, stunning, bewitching.
“I’m fine, Syd. I guess I feel awkward about our conversations about the Christmas stuff when she first got here,” I lie again. “I’ll try to loosen up, though.”
I know Syd’s not buying my explanation, but she knows me well enough to drop it. She hands me a stack of plates to carry with my hand that’s not holding Addie, and we rejoin the crowd outside.
Davis has finished cooking the meat, so everyone makes their way through the buffet and takes seats around the tables. In addition to Paul, Emily, and Pops, Syd also invited James and Becky, who are a few years older than us but have a son Junior’s age. Becky owns the coffee shop, Becky’s Brews, next to the grocery store. As a result, she and Emily are good friends. Syd frequents the coffee shop as often as possible when it’s open during tourist season.
I overhear Clara’s conversation with Becky as we move through the line. “You didn’t grow up here in Noel?” Clara asks.
“Goodness, no!” Becky responds with a laugh. “I grew up in Austin, Texas. But I went to the University of Arkansas for college and met James there. Since his family owns the cabin rentals along the river, I knew saying yes to marrying him would mean saying yes to moving here. Not gonna lie—it was an adjustment at first, going from big city to small town life. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love it here now. Although, I do sneak back to Austin occasionally to get coffee ideas,” she adds with a wink.
I go through the line last and take the final seat open at the table—directly across from Clara and Madison. The troublesome twinkle in Madison’s eye lets me know she’s happy with this arrangement. Her opening comment also lets me know she’s locked and loaded, ready to fire.
“So, Clark, I hear you hate Christmas,” Madison says, before taking a big bite of her burger.
“Mads!” Clara whisper-scolds, elbowing her friend in the ribs for a second time. I notice Syd and Davis fighting smiles, and a stifled laugh escapes from Emily.
I exhale before answering. “I don’t hate Christmas. Granted, it’s not my favorite time of year, but I have no personal animosity toward the holiday.”
“Just a professional vendetta as mayor against public displays of Christmas spirit?” Madison quips, one eyebrow raised.
I glance briefly at Clara, whose cheeks are fiery-red as she tries to give Madison an evil eye. Madison isn’t looking at Clara, though, because she’s waiting for me to respond to her prodding.
“Long-standing town tradition goes against major holiday displays, but individual residences and businesses are more than welcome to decorate however they choose,” I answer diplomatically. My eyes can’t help but flit toward my truck and means of escape from this social interaction.
“Madison, tell me about what you do at Clara’s company. She mentioned you work together.” Syd jumps in, rescuing me for a second time. I must really have her worried—I need to get a grip, so she gets off my back.
Madison shares about her work as a proofreader, but I’m only half-listening until she starts talking about Clara as her boss.
“Clara’s the perfect boss for anyone who actually comes to work and does their job, but a terrible boss for slacker employees,” Madison says with an eye roll.
“Hey! Rude,” Clara responds with a joking tone. But I sense some genuine hurt, or maybe annoyance, beneath the surface. This must be a conversation they’ve had before.
“What do you mean?” Becky inquires, saving me from having to be the one to ask.
“She’s too nice to be firm,” Madison says. “There’s this one writer on the team who’s always making up excuses for not getting his work done. But rather than fire him, Clara just writes his articles for him. She’s a total pushover.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being nice!” Clara defends herself. “And you have no proof that Michael’s excuses aren’t legitimate. I can choose to help him if I want.”
A flare of jealousy sparks hearing Clara mention another man—a man who gets to see her almost every day. Does Clara give this guy special treatment because she’s attracted to him? I tamp the jealous spark down, reminding myself that I don’t want to see Clara every day. I try to coax my thoughts: M aybe if she did have a man back home, she wouldn’t be here meddling and causing trouble for me. Yes, that’s what I truly want.
“Michael has exactly zero legitimate excuses. His never-ending litany of medical emergencies and fights with his girlfriend can’t be valid. He’s capitalizing on your lack of backbone to be lazy,” Madison scoffs.
A wave of anger rushes through me at the thought of Clara’s sweet disposition being exploited by this guy (who has a girlfriend who is not Clara). “You shouldn’t let him take advantage of you, Clara.”
Everyone turns to me with shock, surprised that I spoke up. No one is more surprised than I am, though.
Except maybe Clara. She appears mostly dead in response to my interjection. Miracle Max might need to whip up a concoction to bring her back to consciousness.
“I just mean, every employee should pull their weight. It’s okay to make exceptions when you deem appropriate, but you shouldn’t let someone continually mistreat you,” I conclude, wishing I hadn’t spoken in the first place.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I agree with Clark,” Madison says with an approving nod to me. “He hit the nail on the head, Clara. You always get so caught up in helping other people that you don’t have time to do what you want to do. Michael is simply the prime example.”
Clara’s clearly uncomfortable being the topic of current conversation, and Davis kindly jumps in to redirect. Unfortunately, he redirects my way.
“Clark, any update on that company interested in purchasing the plant?” he asks. I know he regrets the question the second it’s out of his mouth when there’s a collective gasp around the table. I stare him down with my well-honed death glare.
“Wait, what? There’s a company buying the plant?” Syd asks breathlessly. She slaps Davis hard. “You didn’t mention this to me until now.”
“That’s because I told him not to,” I growl. All eyes are on me. “I’ve been in contact with several companies, hoping to find someone who could utilize the building. Bring some jobs back to Noel. There’s a company that’s considering buying the plant to convert into a pet food production facility. But it’s not a sure thing yet.”
“But is it promising?” Paul asks, sitting up straighter.
“They are seriously considering it, but I’m not counting the chickens until the eggs hatch,” I say, hoping to caution everyone from getting their hopes up.
They’ve all thrown caution to the wind though, hooting, hollering, and excitedly talking about the chance of having stable jobs year-round for the town again. Becky’s gushing to James about how great it would be to keep the coffee shop open all year. Emily’s already listing off the people they could hire if the grocery store started seeing more business again. Even Pops has some pep in his voice. All their eager conversations fill me with equal doses of optimism and dread.
Everyone is talking over each other, but Clara just eyes me with a small smile. “That’s really exciting, Clark. I hope it works out for you. I mean, for the whole town.”
Clara’s well wishes only pile on the pressure. Since she arrived, she’s only seen this town slowly dying—my failure as a mayor. I want to prove to everyone that I’m competent enough to keep this town running. But I especially want to prove it to Clara, even if she’s only ever a visitor to Noel.
But that kind of irrational response to her is exactly what’s getting me in trouble, tangling up my practical thinking. Logically, Clara and I don’t work together as anything more than part-time fellow residents of the same town. Her driving passion to be involved with helping other people doesn’t fit with my solitary preferences. Not to mention her dogged commitment to Christmas. We don’t match.
I need to keep my focus on the people of Noel, not worrying about what Clara thinks.
If only it were that easy.