2. Zane
2
ZANE
“ W e’re going to miss the bus !”
Zane Lawrence grabbed his keys, pausing to gaze out the window at the acres of peaceful, snow-covered farmland that surrounded their big old house. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the sense of calm the familiar landscape always brought him, even in the typical morning whirlwind of convincing both of his boys to put on clothes, then getting their breakfast on the table and ideally at least some of it into their stomachs.
“We’re going to miss the bus,” his seven-year-old son, Cal yelled again, his s sounds slurring slightly from his missing front tooth.
“You’re not going to—” Zane began.
“The bus already came,” Cal’s twin brother, Nick called down the stairs in delight. His s sounds practically whistling because he had lost both of his front teeth. “I saw it out the window.”
“Oh, no,” Cal wailed. “I can’t be late today. I’m supposed to meet my new teacher.”
The front door swung open, revealing his mother before Zane could reply.
“Grandma,” both boys shouted, running for her as if she might be trying to escape.
“Good morning, boys,” she said fondly, hugging the two blond heads momentarily to her bosom. “Calvin, I brought a basket of homemade pumpkin muffins for you to bring to the new schoolteacher.”
“But I missed the bus,” Cal said sadly.
“I want muffins,” Nick said excitedly at the same time.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I brought two baskets,” their grandmother told them, pulling out a second basket from behind her back.
Nick jumped up and down joyfully, but did not snatch the fragrant basket from his grandmother, much to Zane’s relief.
“And I’m driving you to school today,” Zane told them. “I have to run an errand in town. So you don’t have to worry about the bus.”
“Okay,” Nick said, sounding just a little disappointed.
Cal leaned his head briefly against Zane’s arm in silent thanks, and Zane soaked in the contact. The boys were getting bigger now, and they weren’t as snuggly as when they were small, so he had to enjoy it when it happened.
Cal was a lot like Zane, quiet and ponderous. His brother Nick reminded Zane of his own brother, Tripp—always full of boisterous energy. There was something comfortingly familiar for Zane about the rhythm of their interactions, though to most people it would probably just be overwhelming.
“Do you have time to eat something before you head out?” his mom asked.
“Sure,” Zane told her.
He’d already had coffee and toast an hour ago. Though his family had picked up his early-morning slack on the farm when the boys were born, old habits died hard.
Sooner or later, he would be back to taking over the morning milking on the dairy farm. For now, he ran the creamery and helped out as needed everywhere else, but only during the hours when the boys were in school.
“Come on, kids,” his mother said cheerfully, heading off to the kitchen with the twins trailing after her like ducklings.
Zane smiled and followed along. His mom would be happy to see there was coffee in the pot. And he said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that he’d tidied up the kitchen this morning before waking Nick and Cal.
His mom would never nag him about something like that, but she would worry. And he figured he had already caused the family enough worry and inconvenience over the last seven years…
“Let’s make chocolate milk,” Nick yelled gleefully as he grabbed the carton of milk from the fridge.
“I don’t think you need chocolate if you’re having a muffin,” Zane told him. “One treat at a time.”
“Oh, fine,” Nick said, in pretend frustration, his eyes still dancing happily at the prospect of muffins for breakfast.
“Fine,” Cal echoed softly, grinning at his brother.
Mom fixed herself a cup of coffee while Nick poured milk for himself and Cal without spilling much.
“Do you want some, Dad?” he asked eagerly, sloshing a little milk out of the cup he was holding as he turned to Zane.
“I’d love some,” Zane told him. “Thank you.”
Calvin was already setting out plates and napkins for the muffins. His expression was serious, as if he were thinking about something.
“Are you excited to have a new teacher?” Zane asked him.
“Mrs. David’s mom is sick,” Cal said. “She might not get better.”
“That’s a sad idea, isn’t it?” Zane asked him.
Cal nodded.
“But it’s so nice that she can spend lots of time with her mom now,” Zane said. “Even though I know you’ll miss her.”
Cal nodded again, and Zane felt an ache in his chest.
The boys’ mother had cut and run pretty much as soon as she’d seen the two of them in the NICU, and as far as he could tell, she’d never looked back. It tugged at Zane’s heart every time they lost another woman who might have been a bit of a mother figure, even Mrs. David who was closer in age to their grandma.
“Now, you’ll want to be sure to make a nice impression on the new teacher,” his mom said, seating herself with her mug of coffee and smiling gently at Cal.
“His teachers always love him,” Nick said, sounding a little indignant.
“Well, this young lady is brand new to town,” their grandmother said with a smile, as she put a muffin on each of their plates. “So for once, there’s a teacher who doesn’t know a thing about Calvin or anyone else around here. It’s important for him to do his best to show her that he’s a good boy.”
“I’ll definitely be good,” Cal said, looking up worriedly from his muffin.
“Of course you will,” Zane said.
He found himself looking to Nick, as if it were the louder twin’s turn to say something. But Nick was frowning thoughtfully to himself as he traced the plate with a fingertip, not even attacking his muffin.
“You okay?” Zane asked quietly.
“How come he gets a new teacher?” Nick demanded.
Nick’s teacher, Mrs. Staley was stricter than Mrs. David had been. It wasn’t even Christmas yet, but she already seemed to have taken a dislike to Nick because of his high energy. It wasn’t a surprise that he might envy the idea of getting a fresh start.
“Did you boys know it’s never too late to make a good impression?” their grandmother asked, clearly having come to the same conclusion Zane had.
Nick shrugged and dug into his breakfast. Cal’s mouth was already full, but he looked up at his grandma and nodded politely.
Zane took a bite of his own muffin. It was still warm—the texture so light it almost melted on his tongue, filling his mouth with sweetness and Christmas spices.
“Now, that’s a good way to start our day,” his mom said with satisfaction.
He was pretty sure her day had started hours ago. She was always bottle-feeding calves and doing handy projects all over the farm. But he appreciated the sentiment.
Though, as usual, he found himself wishing the boys had a mother to do special things for them, and help them think about how to connect with a young female teacher. His own mom had so much on her plate already.
“Is it time to go?” Nick asked with his mouth full.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Cal reminded his brother. Zane chose not to notice that Cal’s mouth was full too.
“I guess it is about that time,” Zane said, gathering their plates.
“I’ll get all that,” his mom said, gesturing for him to go. “You all have a safe trip. I think it’s going to snow a little more today.”
“Will we have a snow day?” Nick asked excitedly.
“Probably not,” Zane told him.
They had seen kids having snow days on television, but they were few and far between in Vermont. Everyone here knew how to handle a storm.
“But you never know,” his mom added, her blue eyes twinkling.
Nick and Cal grinned at her, clearly delighted at the idea.
Maggie Lawrence deserved a sainthood. She never let the weight of her labors suppress the joy that seemed to ooze out of her pores. They were all lucky to have her around.
She noticed him looking at her and winked, and he felt like a little boy again himself. Mom’s smiles and winks always made him feel seen and special.
“Okay,” Zane said, feeling better than before. “Let’s pile into the car. Does everyone have their backpack?”
“Yes,” the boys yelled as one. They were used to this routine.
“Do you have your homework?” he asked.
“ Yes,” they answered happily.
“Is your homework in your backpack?” Zane asked.
“Yes, ” they yelled back.
“Then I guess it’s time to go,” he told them, smiling back when he saw the funny, missing-tooth grins they were giving him.
Love filled his heart, and he wondered how he ever found the strength to just leave them at school and not keep them all to himself.
But there was no time for wondering. The boys were already piling into the rear seat of his truck and he had a sinking feeling that if he didn’t get in quickly, they would somehow drive away without him.
“Don’t forget,” his mom said, handing over the basket for the teacher that was covered in plastic wrap with a pretty cloth bow around it.
“Thank you,” he told her softly.
“I love you, you know?” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek in her hand.
“Love you too, Ma,” he told her, patting her hand. “Thank you for these.”
She winked at him again before heading into the house, presumably to clean up their plates, but thankfully not to clean up anything else.
By the time he was strapped into the car, the boys were singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” at the top of their lungs, with Nick really belting it out every time they got to line about the five golden rings.
“I guess we don’t need the radio today,” Zane joked as he started the car.
When he glanced in the rearview mirror, he could see they were smiling at him as they sang.
My boys, he thought to himself.
He definitely wasn’t a perfect parent, but he was giving it all he had. And while Nick’s energetic behavior certainly could be a handful, and Cal was awfully quiet, they both seemed to be happy most of the time, and they had a strong bond with each other. Zane was more proud of that than he would ever be of anything else in his life.
He drove down the long, tree-lined lane that led from the family farm out to the road, and turned onto Fox Hollow toward town, slowing down as he approached the covered bridge.
“Pause your song, boys,” he said firmly.
They did as they were asked right away, and he rolled down his window and listened for car engines for a moment, before moving forward into the darkness of the one-lane structure, the wooden planks clunking under his tires as he passed through.
It was town custom to give a little honk of the horn before entering the bridge. But now that the Johnsons, who lived in the cottage just north of the bridge, had retired, he hated to tap the horn this early in the morning.
“Sing on,” he announced once they were out in the early morning sunshine again, and the two songsters in the backseat took up right where they had left off.
By the time they were turning left onto Maple Street, the twins had sung through all twelve days of Christmas two more times, and Zane was humming along with them.
“We’re here,” Cal said, breaking off from the song when he spotted the elementary school.
“Excited to meet your teacher?” he asked.
Suddenly, Cal’s lips were buttoned and he didn’t say a word.
Zane’s heart ached again. The boy was plenty talkative at home, but he clammed up so much at school.
“I’ll walk you back to the playground,” Zane decided.
No one replied, but when he glanced in the mirror again, Cal looked relieved.
It was unlikely the brand-new teacher would have pulled playground duty already. Zane’s little sister, Allie, had gotten a job teaching kindergarten last year, and he knew they had given her a little time to ease into her position before she started taking shifts welcoming kids off the bus and onto the playground in the mornings.
Maybe this teacher has a lot of experience from another school , he told himself. It’s possible that she’ll be outside, and he can meet her with his brother and me there, and she’ll get to see how he really is.
They all piled out of the truck and he even remembered to grab the basket of muffins. Though by the time he retrieved it, the boys were already streaking across the school’s front lawn on their way to the playground.
Shaking his head, he followed after them at his own pace.
Being here, he could almost be a child again himself, running to the playground with his brothers, his mom waving to them with Allie on her hip. It wasn’t just the familiar stone building and the homes around it, the sounds of children’s laughter and the scent of snow on the air were exactly as he remembered, too.
Living in the same small town all your life could do that to you—sometimes making you feel like you could come dislodged from time altogether. While you grew up at the usual pace, the world around you changed so slowly that it was almost imperceptible.
Though his brother, Tag, would definitely disagree with that. He was more likely to complain that things changed too much, too fast. And maybe Tag was right when it came to the village. More and more folks were moving to Sugarville Grove from all over the country lately, looking for some kind of magical “simple life.” The locals called those people flatlanders .
Anyone who had actually grown up on a farm would know life was anything but simple when the health and happiness of living creatures was in your hands. There were simple pleasures, of course, like feeling the fresh mountain wind on your face, or seeing a calf take her first steps. But Zane was pretty sure the stakes were higher than working with spreadsheets, no matter how stressed out the city folks always said they were.
He turned the corner to find that the boys had actually waited for him at the back of the school. Nick’s eyes were on the monkey bars, his thin shoulders practically quivering with the desire to tear across the playground and demonstrate his prowess.
And Cal’s eyes were on Nick, as ever, looking to him for their shared plan. Zane had been the same at their age. He and Tripp weren’t twins, but they were only a year apart, and they had been inseparable.
Suddenly, in that sea of familiarity, something different caught his eye. Among all those well-known faces and colorful puffer jackets, a slender figure in a dove-gray wool coat stood out.
His first thought was that she was young, surely too young to be the new teacher. Then he noticed the way her dark hair contrasted with her pale complexion, and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose.
She’s pretty , a voice in the back of his head whispered.
Shaking off the idea, he jogged to catch up with the boys.
“Is that her?” Cal was whispering to Nick.
It seemed the twins had noticed the standout young woman too. Unfortunately, they were being pretty loud, even though they were trying to whisper, and they were both pointing at her, which seemed to have gotten her attention.
But she was smiling as she headed their way, looking even more striking than before. Zane turned his gaze to the boys, more to have a reason to look away from the teacher than anything else.
“She’s too pretty to be a teacher,” Nick said a little too loudly to Cal, who elbowed his brother as she reached them.
“Hi, there,” she said in a bell-clear voice that instantly captured the attention of both boys, and Zane as well, if he was being honest. “You wouldn’t happen to be in the second grade, would you?”
“We are in second grade,” Nick said.
“Yes,” Cal added with a big smile.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “I’m Miss Hawthorne, the new teacher.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nick said very politely. “I’m Nick.”
“Hi,” Cal said softly. “I’m Cal.”
Miss Hawthorne’s eyes moved to Zane. Her eyes were bright blue and curious, and he froze, as if he had suddenly forgotten everything about how to meet a new person.
“That’s our dad,” Nick pointed out helpfully.
“Hi, there,” she said in a friendly way, her blue eyes dancing. “I’m Becca Hawthorne.”
“Zane Lawrence,” he heard himself say at last.
“These are for you,” Nick said suddenly, grabbing the basket from Zane’s hands and holding them out to her eagerly. “For a good first impression.”
The words hung in the frosty air for a full second that felt like an hour to Zane. Why hadn’t he pointed out that you weren’t supposed to say you were trying to make a good first impression?
“Did you make these for me?” Miss Hawthorne asked.
“No,” Zane replied automatically. “My mom did.”
He immediately felt like an enormous child. My mom? Wouldn’t a normal man just have said the boys’ grandmother made them?
“Wow, that was very kind of her,” Miss Hawthorne said with a warm smile. “And you’re in luck, because I do accept baked goods in exchange for grades.”
“Really?” Cal asked softly.
“No,” she laughed. “Not really. But I’m very grateful.”
They all watched as she lifted the basket to her face, closed her eyes so that her dark lashes kissed her freckled cheeks, and inhaled deeply.
“Oh, they smell so good,” she said, opening her eyes again. “Will you boys tell your grandma thank you so much?”
“Yes,” Nick said, nodding up and down.
She smiled at him fondly.
Now that Zane thought about it, Nick was being very polite.
He’s trying to make a good first impression on someone who doesn’t know who he is, Zane realized suddenly, his heart aching for his well-meaning, energetic son.
“Well, thank you so much for making me feel welcome today,” she told the boys. “Will you both be in my class?”
“I will,” Cal said, looking right up at her face, without a trace of shyness.
“Just him,” Nick said flatly at the same time.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll get to see you during lunch and activities, Nick,” she said.
Nick’s little chest puffed up with pride that she had remembered his name. Even Zane was impressed. She was surely meeting a whole bunch of people at once today.
“And I’m glad I already have one friendly face in my class, Cal,” she added with a smile for him. “But I guess you two probably want to get out there and play, don’t you?”
They didn’t actually look like they wanted to do anything but stand around looking up at her and hanging on her every word. Zane was feeling the same thing, and he couldn’t even think of a single thing she had said or done that was so unusual.
The boys just nodded and then headed off toward the monkey bars, Nick breaking into a happy shout when he spotted one of their friends.
“It was nice to meet you, Zane Lawrence,” Miss Hawthorne said, smiling up at him.
“You too,” he said, tearing his eyes from hers. “I’d better get back to the farm.”
He took off for his truck without waiting for her to say more, an uncomfortable feeling twisting his stomach.
She was just a nice young woman, who was being kind to his boys. There were plenty of young women in Sugarville Grove who smiled and fluttered their eyelashes at Zane. Tripp told him once that he was a sort of tragic figure to the women in town, and that being the girl to mend his heart was almost an unspoken challenge among them.
Although it was worth remembering that Tripp had been laughing his head off at Zane’s discomfort the whole time he told him about it, so who knew if it was even true? Or if it was maybe just a little true and a lot exaggerated?
At any rate, it didn’t matter. The boys were more than a handful. Taking care of them took up every ounce of Zane’s energy and creativity. At the end of the day, there wasn’t enough of him left for something as frivolous as dating.
Besides, you didn’t exactly make a great impression on her, his inner Tripp teased him. You just stood there stupefied with a basket of muffins with a bow on top that your mommy made.
Shaking his head at the fact that he was still thinking about her instead of the machines in the creamery like he usually was by this hour, Zane hopped back in the truck, still feeling a little strange.
He might be known as the quiet type in the world outside the farm. But as soon as he was back on the familiar hillside, among his family, the herd, and the creamery, he felt like an important part of something bigger. And like a cog in the old grandfather clock, he knew exactly what his role was in the constantly shifting system that was the dairy farm in all its seasons.
I’ll just head straight home, he told himself. I can run errands tomorrow.
But as he drove, the shadows on the snow reminded him of a dove-gray coat, and the brightening morning sky made him think of curious blue eyes. And he didn’t think anything of it when he started humming random Christmas carols.