Chapter 11
Gemma’s heart raced as she navigated the winding, leaf-covered road.
All this time, Tim was only a ten-minute walk away from Charlie’s cabin. If only I’d known sooner, we could’ve spent more time together the last time I was here.
The cabin came into view, nestled among tall pines, smoke rising gently from its chimney. Gemma could see Tim using the cozy building as his sanctuary like a modern-day superhero, a refuge from the busyness of life.
Walking up the driveway, she passed a wooden carving of a sloth and paused in front of the entry to his home. A pair of sheer white curtains were drawn in front of the kitchen window, which was open three inches. Sitting on the windowsill, she noticed a few succulents, and an Indiana Jones Chia Pet.
She leaned closer to the window to inspect it. A thick green layer of green shoots grew out of the top of his iconic bowler hat. “Where did he manage to find that?”
“A gift from a student.”
She jumped as the front door opened. Tim crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame with a cheeky grin. He wore a pair of dark-wash jeans, a white T-shirt, and a green plaid shirt.
“Tim, I’ve been waiting to see you!” Unsure if she should hug him, she shoved a brown paper bag Frankie had given her in front of her body. “I brought pie.”
“The way to my heart.” He signaled for her to come inside. “What did you bring?”
“Er, I don’t know. Frankie bought it yesterday and said she and Charlie already had two pies in the freezer for Thanksgiving.”
Peeking inside the bag, she read the top of the box, wrinkling her nose. “Pumpkin.”
Tim roared with laughter. “The expression on your face is priceless.”
Even if it’s at my expense, seeing Tim laugh is worth it. If there’s anyone who needs it, it’s him.
“Here, I’ll put the pie back in the freezer. Tell Frankie thank you, but between you and me, I’ll probably take it over to my parents’ place for Thanksgiving.”
Tim’s cabin was laid out in an almost identical fashion to that of Frankie and Charlie’s. The main living area was open concept. There was a kitchen, living room, and two bedrooms. She’d expected his home to be wildly decorated just like the classroom she’d seen during their video chats, but instead, it was minimalistic.
Gemma slipped the canvas bag she’d also been carrying into his hands. His eyes widened. “What else is in here?” Reaching inside, he pulled out a shoebox-sized box. Brushing his hand across the lid, he read the paper she’d taped to the top. “A Box of Awesome? What do we have here? Did you make this, Gem?”
She glanced away, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Uh-huh. You’ll have to open it to find out what treasures await.”
She heard the sound of him setting the pie box and shoebox down on the counter and the lid opening.
He started looking through the box. She had put in sticky notes, pens, highlighters, hand sanitizer, tissues, a bag of chocolates, a pack of mini donuts, tea bags, a bottle of soda, a baseball, and a bottle of aspirin. “This is all so thoughtful, and as a teacher, exactly what I need!”
“According to Mum, I learned yesterday that all teachers need four things: carbs, caffeine, a couple school supplies, and sanitizers. So I thought I’d make you a teacher survival kit of sorts.”
“I love the name you came up with. It’s perfect for this.”
“A Box of Awesome made me think of you.”
“How does the baseball fit into this?”
“I thought you could use it for two things: a self-defense weapon against angry parents?.?.?.”
“And the second?”
She raised her head and locked eyes with him. “You can use it to keep your hands occupied to help you focus. I usually use a tennis ball.”
“I love it! Although I’ll have to convert you to using a baseball instead.” Holding it in his hands, he adjusted his fingers over the red seams. “Catch.” He tossed it to her underhanded.
Gemma caught it, then tossed it back to him. “An underhanded toss?”
“I can’t toss overhand anymore, but even if I could, I wouldn’t do it in the house. There are too many breakable plant pots.”
