Chapter 7
Jason wasn’t at work when I went looking for him. Which was incredibly frustrating. It’d taken me so long to work up the nerve to hunt him down—and here he was, missing. Where the hell was he?
Every other time I’d gone to the grocery store he’d been there.
Like my own personal demon.
And the one time I was actually seeking him out—okay, yes, I’d done that once before—he was gone. Which meant I had no choice but to talk to people. It wasn’t like I had his number and could call him, after all.
And it also gave me more time to stew over my decision about the Santa Fund.
Late last night, after talking to George, I had lain in bed, ruminating.
The wind had whistled, rattling the windows, my small space heater on full blast because the wood-burning stove in the living room wasn’t doing much to heat the rest of the house. The house had been so quiet after Jason left.
Still.
Normally, that didn’t bother me.
But it did right then. Bothered me more than the holes in the walls ever had.
More than the horrible flooring, and the decimated door frames—it seriously looked like a raccoon had clawed the shit out of them.
Bothered me more than the mold on the ceiling, and the way the toilet was never actually silent.
Bothered me more than the list of things I’d need to accomplish on the farm. Things that took me away from working on the house—even if they did create income to pay for said house.
Bothered me more than the knowing look Patrick had given me when I’d popped down to the orchard to stew. He was a busybody. Worse than Jason. Apparently, he’d seen Jason’s car going up the road, and since my house was practically the only place out this far, he’d connected the dots.
Not about the charity.
Obviously.
“Glad to see you’re making friends,” he’d said, clapping me on the back with one weathered hand.
He loved the work as much as I did. More, maybe.
Said it was in his blood. That he’d been working this land for his whole life and never planned on changing, even if his wife thought it was high time he truly retire.
Jordan wasn’t around, which was probably good. I didn’t think I could’ve handled another person looking at me like that.
“I’m not sure Jason is my friend,” I’d bit out, because I was still confused.
“Why not?” Patrick replied. “He’s a good kid. Means well, even if he can get caught up in his own web sometimes. There are worse friends to have.”
He was right.
Of course he was.
In search of clarity, I’d wandered deeper into the orchard.
I moved away from Patrick’s knowing eyes.
Away from my house and the stresses just looking at it brought to mind.
I ran. I ran and ran and ran—until I reached the wooden fence that marked the edge of the property line.
Sweat clung to my body in rivulets. My chest heaved.
I’d gone as far as I could go, and yet…thoughts of Jason remained.
Clinging to me just like the sweat did. His dorky smile lingering in the back of my mind.
Making a place for itself beside the to-do lists I had memorized and my worries, so commonly sifted through they were practically alphabetized at that point.
I thought about what Jason’s reaction would be if I said yes to the money and his friendship.
I thought about the way it’d felt to be tucked in his arms. How warm his hand was as it’d squeezed my nape with authority. The flicker of his breath on the shell of my ear. How being with him didn’t make me feel scared, even when it should.
I’d felt small.
I’d never felt small before.
Jason was as patient with me as I was with my apple trees.
Coaxing, the way I was with animals.
Like that’s what he thought I was.
A wild creature, looking to be appreciated—not tamed. I didn’t get the feeling Jason wanted that. In fact, when I’d panicked, when I’d gotten angry, he’d never once given me the impression that he’d been cowed. No. Instead, he’d been just as sure as he always was.
Not afraid of me.
Maybe it was that thought, the one that kept me up at night. The one that made my house feel so empty and cold when it’d never felt that way before.
Maybe it was that thought that led to now.
To me hunting Jason down.
To me…planning to say yes to his hair-brained, generous scheme.
To me standing awkwardly in the grocery store, like an idiot as I searched for a man who simply wasn’t there. Stumbling over my words, I managed to inquire about Jason’s whereabouts from the other cashier.
Her name tag read Madison. She was a dark-haired waif of a girl with a permanent frown, and for some ungodly reason, every time I’d come in since June she’d headed straight into the back room like she thought I had the plague.
“Jason’s going to the theater,” Madison said, slurping out of a frankly heinous-looking Christmas cup. I had to assume that Jason had bought for her. It seemed like something he’d purchase. A way to tease her. The way he teased me.
He teased his friends.
It was kind of relieving to understand that now.
“If he’s not late, he’ll get there in the next few minutes,” Madison tacked that last bit on after checking the time on her phone. It was a testament to how much Jason ran his mouth that she knew his exact location and schedule for the day.
When I arrived at the theater I didn’t see Jason’s truck.
Most people in Belleville drove trucks.
It had to do with the nature of the town and its businesses, but even more so with the sheer amount of snow that hit come winter. Vermont was a different beast entirely. When snow came, it came down hard—and fast.
I’d yet to see a winter in Vermont, but I’d been told as much at least a dozen different times when I’d been purchasing my own truck. It was used. Run-down. But it suited my needs just fine. Reliable. Big. Blue.
I loved blue.
Jason’s truck was green.
A glossy, new, monstrous-looking thing. He’d had a booster seat in the back. A fact I’d noticed when he’d brought over pizza, but hadn’t really mulled over until now. If I hadn’t seen it when he’d come to my house I never would’ve known what to keep an eye out for.
I sat stewing in the parking lot for a solid ten minutes before I figured waiting inside the theater was a better plan.
Then, at least, I wouldn’t be wasting gas.
It was chilly again, the skitter of leaves on the pavement setting me on edge as I pulled my flannel snug around myself and strode across the asphalt and into the cinema.
Why the hell was Jason late for his own damn movie?
That was just poor planning.
Also…who goes to the movies by themselves?
I stalked through the dark interior of the building all the way to the benches at the back wall. They sat beneath an array of movie posters. All stuff that I was genuinely interested in but didn’t have the money or the time to watch.
And yet—here I was.
Wasting time.
For Jason.
Groaning, I dragged my hands over my face and into my hair. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Jason’s being late was a sign of that. Maybe I should go. Maybe I should—
“Joe!” Jason’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I couldn’t help the way I perked up, dropping my hands back into my lap, eyes hunting for him.
He wasn’t difficult to spot.
There were only a handful of people in the lobby since it was midday. My stomach growled, the scent of popcorn only truly hitting now that I was no longer stewing in my own head. It was good I’d gotten what I needed to at the farm done earlier that morning, so no one was waiting on me.
But I’d hoped for this to only last an hour at most so I could head back to the house and get started on what I could.
“Hey!” Jason was wearing a sweater today. Plush looking. Green. The same color as his truck. He wore skinny jeans that hugged the shape of his legs. They were bowed slightly, making his walk more of a swagger than anything else as he approached.
That was when I noticed her.
There was a little girl holding his hand, probably six years old? Maybe seven. Tiny. Brown hair. Big dark eyes so clever they bore right into my soul. Staring at me curiously, like she didn’t understand who I was—or why Jason was heading straight for me when he was at the movies with her.
It was only then that I realized what an ass I was being.
I hadn’t even considered the fact he might have company.
I’d come all the way across town to…to take his—well, his buddy’s—money? Without thinking of or considering him at all. My cheeks flushed bright red, shame and mortification burning through me like wildfire.
I needed to get out of here.
I prided myself on being polite. Hell, even when I hadn’t liked him I’d still brought him apples as a thank you. And here I was, being rude as hell.
“Are you here to see the movie too?” Jason asked curiously, pausing right in front of me, blocking my exit.
I nodded, even though I had no idea what movie he was talking about. It was easier than admitting that I was a total dick. I couldn’t ask him for the money now. This whole thing was a lost cause.
“That’s good,” Jason said. “I was starting to worry you never did anything to relax.” And then, “We haven’t bought our tickets yet,” Jason said, just as chipper as ever.
“Maybe my niece and I can sit by you?” His smile was easy, his eyes glittering.
He looked pleased to have run into me. Which…
only made me feel more like a total ass.
He wanted to be my friend.
He was happy to see me.
God, I was a jerk.
“I haven’t bought mine yet either,” I bit out sullenly, resigning myself to spending money that I did not have.
“Great.” Jason turned to his niece, folding his body low and giving her a playful little shake. “Miss Marybeth,” Jason started.
She snapped to attention, saluting him like he was her drill sergeant. “Yes, sir?!”
“I have an important mission for you.”
She giggled, still holding her salute. “Okey dokey, sir!”