Chapter 23 Madison #2
As people start trickling into the store to grab food and take a break, I’m surprised when I see Liam come in alongside Davis.
In a sea of men bedecked in flannel or T-shirts, Liam sticks out like a sore thumb in his pale blue polo.
But his jeans are covered with specks of sawdust, a sure sign he’s been assisting with the limb removal.
He’s listening intently to whatever Davis is saying, that laser-focused look on his face. When Davis pauses mid-step to turn toward Liam with a huge smile on his face, Liam breaks into a laugh. Davis slaps Liam on the shoulder, howling with laughter at whatever story he just told.
My heart is twisting itself into funny knots at the sight of Liam and Davis laughing together, just in time for Liam to look up and make eye contact. I drop my attention to the bags of chips in front of me, rearranging them for the people coming through the food line.
“Hmmm,” Clara hums next to me, not saying anything else.
“Shut that hum right up, Clara Jane,” I mutter.
When Davis and Liam approach us, Liam pulls my phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Here you go. It charged to eighty percent, at least.”
“Thank you,” I say, pocketing the phone.
“Liam here is gonna join us on our float trip,” Davis says, clapping Liam on the back.
“That’s great!” Clara exclaims. “From what Beau has said, you’re putting in long hours at the factory every day. You deserve to enjoy the fun side of Noel, too!”
“Speaking of the factory, was everything okay there?” I ask Liam.
He nods. “Yes, the generators were doing their thing. But since the power could be out for another day or so, Beau came in and we cut back part of the production line to conserve power, just in case. It will hurt our numbers for the month, but you can’t avert natural disasters.”
Our numbers. He claimed the plant so naturally, I wonder if he even realized he did it.
“We’ll come eat with you guys!” Clara says, giving me a serious side eye. “I just saw Clark walk in, so we can all take a break together and figure out what to do next.”
After filling plates, we head outside to Clark’s truck in the parking lot.
Chase’s tail goes into hyperdrive mode as we approach, and he gives Liam a cheerful greeting when we climb into the truck bed.
We spread out and sit along the edges, chatting as we eat.
Liam freely shares an update about where they are in the approval process for the new production line—information everyone is eager to lap up.
“I was thinking that we should take some food over to Pops,” Clara says as we finish eating. “I know he said he was fine when we called this morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to go over and check on him.”
“Davis and I still need to pitch in to cut up and haul away a couple of the bigger trees that fell on the main road into town,” Clark says. “We could go after.”
“Clara and I can just drive over there,” I assert. “We are strong, independent women, after all.”
“I don’t know how well the road to Pops’ house has been cleared yet,” Clark counters. “Just wait a couple of hours and we’ll go over there.”
“I could drive them,” Liam offers. “I’ve heard about Pops but haven’t met him yet.”
Clark gives Liam an assessing look but agrees.
I could protest more about Clark’s overprotectiveness not letting us drive alone, but I know it’s just his nature. Plus, I’m a little giddy about the prospect of watching Liam meet Pops for the first time.
“Prepare to meet one of the greatest human beings on planet Earth,” I say from the back seat. Clara is sitting up front, giving Liam directions to Pops’ house.
“What’s so great about him?” Liam asks as we pull into the long driveway.
“He’s a straight shooter, in the most endearing way,” Clara replies.
I laugh. “I don’t think Pops ever had a filter to begin with, but add on the phenomenon of elderly people losing their filters, and you get the most unfiltered remarks ever.”
Liam smiles and puts the SUV in park. “Sounds like my kind of man.”
“If it weren’t for Pops, Clark and I may not even be married,” Clara says, a sentimental tone to her voice.
“Yeah, because that dummy McScrooge needed some sense knocked into him,” I add, hopping out of the car and closing the door.
“I get the sense there’s a long story there, and I hope you’ll tell me about it later,” Liam says. “But for now, we should probably try to get some of those tree limbs cleared away from the walkway and porch.”
I carry the bag of food, and Liam pulls a large limb off the sidewalk so we can make it up to the front door. Clara knocks on the door and calls, “Pops? It’s Clara and Madison! We brought you some food.”
“And a new friend to meet!” I add, smiling slyly at Clara.
A minute later, the door opens. Pops stands there leaning on his cane, smiling at Clara. “Well, now, Miss Clara, I told you I’d be just fine. You didn’t need to trouble yourself to come out here.”
Clara leans in to kiss Pops’ cheek. “You know it’s never any trouble to come out and see you.”
“Miss Madison, how are ya?” Pops asks. With his stooped stature, he’s pretty much at eye level with me.
“I’m doing just fine,” I reply. Liam has stepped up behind me, so I gesture to him. “Pops, this is Liam Park. He’s been overseeing the pet food factory for the past few months.”
Liam holds out a hand, and Pops angles his neck to meet Liam’s eyes. “You’re the one who came in telling everyone where they were wrong?”
“Um, yes?” Liam answers, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“And now things are working the way they should and won’t shut down?” Pops asks.
“Yes, sir. That’s the plan,” Liam says, hand still outstretched.
“Good thing for you,” Pops mutters. He vaguely nods and says, “You can come in.” Leaning heavily on his cane, he turns to lead us into the house.
Liam mimes shaking his hand up and down, and I snort a laugh. His eyes dance as they meet mine, and I mouth, “Told you so.”
I catch Clara watching us and give her an evil eye before I follow Pops into the house. “You got any sweet tea, Pops?” I ask.
“Sure do,” Pops says. “Might not be as cold since the fridge has been off, but I’ll get y’all a glass.”
Liam gives me a concerned look, aggressively shaking his head. It only makes me smile with even more evil glee. He has no idea what he’s in for.
I see the horror Liam tries to hide when Pops hands him a glass of brown liquid so thick it’s more syrup than tea.
Pops eyes Liam distrustfully, waiting for him to take a drink.
Liam’s eyes dart to mine—as though I would save him from this trial instead of thoroughly enjoying my spectator experience.
I give him my Grinchiest grin.
He takes a gulp, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he stifles a cough. “Mmm,” he says. “Thank you.”
Clara has graciously played along and not interfered with my little game, but I don’t miss the “I’m on to you” look she gives me.
We help Pops out to the front porch, where there are several wooden rocking chairs he crafted decades ago.
Pops was a master carpenter in his day, and the whole town is full of his signature furniture creations.
Now, he spends his time whittling small animals and knickknacks to sell at “Santa’s Workshop” during Christmas Fest.
Liam makes a big show of insisting that he clear away all of the tree branches littering Pops’ yard, but I think it’s just his way of getting out of drinking any more of the sweet tea syrup. Clara is the only person who can drink it without exerting great effort to swallow.
I find I have a much easier time stomaching the sugary drink when I’m able to watch the muscles in Liam’s arms and back as he hauls tree limbs into a pile.
Clara chatters away with Pops, and I throw in a comment here and there. I decide to do Liam a solid and pour out half of his sweet tea into a nearby bush when Pops isn’t looking. When Liam joins us on the porch, he takes one look at his glass and mouths, “Thank you.”
I get Pops sharing about his carpentry experience, and Liam listens with genuine interest (in between forcing down swallows of tea). After an hour has passed, Clara announces that we should get back to see if Emily needs more help.
“Would you want to come stay at our house tonight?” she asks Pops. “I don’t love the idea of you staying out here by yourself with no power.”
“Oh please, I’ve survived a lot worse than a couple days without power,” Pops says. “I’ll sleep much better in my own bed next to Bev’s picture.”
Clara’s eyes mist over like they do any time Pops mentions his late wife. Clara never met Bev, but even I have to admit I get emotional when I hear Pops talk about his beloved soul mate.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Pops tells us. He holds out a hand as he adds, “It was nice to meetcha, Liam.”
Liam’s smile is genuine as he shakes Pops’ hand. The genuine quality of the grin slips when he thanks Pops for the sweet tea, but who could blame him?
After dropping Clara back at Noland’s and purchasing some flashlights, we drive to our house.
Hamlet greets us with chill enthusiasm, even allowing me to scratch his chin.
We eat up anything still edible in the fridge for dinner, since everything will spoil with another day of no power.
As the hour grows later and the sunlight sneaks away, I feel my anxiety rise slightly.
Which is stupid. The nightlight on my clock is so faint, it hardly even counts as light.
I should be capable of sleeping without it.
Catching Liam’s eye, I see him watching me thoughtfully. His voice is quiet when he asks, “Why don’t you like storms? Or the dark?”
My eyes narrow as I consider the question. He opened up and shared a lot last night, so I suppose it’s only right to return the favor. Still, I drop eye contact as I begin.
“When I was twelve, there was a big storm that came through. The tornado didn’t wind up hitting us, but it did destroy some of the outbuildings on the farm next to ours.
When the sirens went off, my sister and I went down to the basement and got in the closet under the stairs, like we were supposed to,” I say.
I can feel the darkness closing in around me as I recall the story.
“My parents joined us, but my brother, Chris, wasn’t there.
Dad went out to look for him and took the flashlight with him, leaving us in the dark when the power went out.
Turns out Chris wanted to go save the barn kittens and bring them to the house with us, which is not what we were supposed to do.
My dad found him but stayed in a small cellar in the barn with Chris rather than risk getting hit by any debris.
We had to ride out the sounds of the storm in the pitch-dark basement, not knowing if Dad and Chris were okay.
Mom cried the whole time,” I explain, swallowing a lump in my throat.
“But they were fine. We were all fine. And now I’m twenty-nine and shouldn’t be afraid of storms or the dark anymore. ”
When I glance up at Liam, there’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before. I don’t know how to characterize it, but I know it makes me feel both warm and shivery simultaneously.
“Why don’t we sleep out in the living room again tonight? Save the batteries in our phones and flashlights in case we need them later,” he suggests.
Biting my lip, I nod. “Yeah, good thinking,” I say, pretending that his suggestion isn’t solely to save me from being alone in my dark room.
Now that we both have flashlights, we get ready for bed and reunite in the dark living room, lit solely by the glow of the fireplace. When I bend down to straighten the sheet on my mattress, Hamlet leaps onto my shoulders.
Half screaming, I jerk upright and yell, “I thought we were friends now, Hamlet! Why are you attacking me?!”
Liam’s lips are curled in a soft smile when I turn to him, Hamlet precariously balanced on my shoulders. “You are friends,” Liam says. “He’s not attacking you. It’s a sign of affection.” He pauses to clear his throat. “Hamlet has never done that with anyone other than me.”
There’s a deep well of emotion in his eyes when he meets my gaze. Too deep for comfort. I tilt my head to meet Hamlet’s eyes instead. “Well, Hammie, you have an odd way of showing affection.”
Liam groans. “Not you too.”
Raising a quizzical eyebrow, I ask, “What?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”