19. Clara
Chapter nineteen
Clara
O ur company onboarded two major clients in January, so I was far too swamped to make a trip down to my cabin. But my boss promised I could take two days off to make a long weekend possible at the beginning of February. I’ve never been more excited about a break in my life.
Driving south down the highway, Tineke strapped into the passenger seat, my mind jitters with thoughts of Clark. No matter that I hadn’t seen him for nine weeks or that the last time I did see him was unarguably awful—I couldn’t seem to evict him from my thoughts.
I’d shared as much with Madison, who responded with a disapproving lecture about boundaries and toxic people. Then again, she’s the one who refuses to kick out the roommate whose most recent hobby resulted in the tent fumigation of their house. So my kettle is no blacker than her pot.
Still, my stomach churns as I turn off the highway onto the road that will lead me into Noel. I’d decided to get together with Sydney this time around—I even texted her before hitting the road so I couldn’t chicken out upon entering the Noel city limits.
Pulling into the driveway, a peace settles in my chest as the cabin comes into view. It’s as quaint as I remember it, nestled among the bare trees. I take my Tineke from the front seat and hurry to unlock the door and get her inside. I’m grateful that the previous owners had installed a smart thermostat, enabling me to turn up the heat prior to my arrival.
Two months’ worth of dust provides a misty coating on the furniture, but otherwise, everything looks undisturbed. I make my way to the sunroom, and my heart drums with displeasure as I notice the bare evergreen trees in the back. Not only did McScrooge go against his promise not to unplug my lights, he’d removed them completely.
How dare he?!
I unlatch the sliding door and step outside, nearly tripping over a plastic storage tub. A note taped to the top reads:
I swear I didn’t take these down until January 1. All of Noel beheld the twinkling glory of your lights the whole season. I didn’t want you falling off a stool trying to unwind them from the trees, so I took the liberty of removing them for you. Syd will confirm my story. Clark
P.S. Seemed like you needed a place to sit to properly enjoy the backyard.
Jerking my head up, I notice a beautiful wood rocking chair to my right. I step closer to run my fingers along the back of the chair, smooth to the touch. I brush a few leaves off the seat and ease myself into it, settling in to the effortless rocking motion.
There’s a new splash of color on the Clark Noel Magic Eye image, and I’m more confused than ever.
Who are you, really? The charming, thoughtful hero I thought you were the first night, or the ruthless, grumpy Grinch from the mayor’s office?
It’s the mystery I’d equally love to solve and love to avoid.