Deciding that I’ll wait to put away the ladder when I don’t have an audience, I do what I always do when it comes to Mason. I run away.
2
Mason
Everywhere I go, I’m reminded ofher.The woman who lives across from me.
Baby It’s Cold Outsideplays above my head as I try to enjoy my food. Surrounding me, festive flickering lights decorate the Skyline Bar & Grill. Like many businesses in this town, it feels like Santa Claus has thrown up everywhere. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get away from all this Christmas crap.
The burger in my hand oozes as I tighten my grip. Mouth curling into a deeper frown, I finish the last few bites before dusting my fingers clean.
Have to say, food this good is worth getting all that festive mess shoved down my throat.
Paying my bill, I’m dusting crumbs from my shirt before leaving the bar stool.
Thanking the staff as they keep busy with the rush of foot traffic, I swallow down theirHappy Holidaysand make my way out.
Getting in my truck, I notice the heavy layer of snow making its way down the sky. Nose scrunching, I tear my gaze away and get on the road.
The town feels busier. Everyone is walking about, stopping at all the small shops lining the streets to buy gifts for their loved ones.
If I had someone to buy anything for, would I be like them? Freezing to death as I move from one building to the other? Just thinking about it forces me to acknowledge the loneliness that comes with being alone.
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I try my best to get away from the sight of it all. Unfortunately, it’s easier said than done.
Settling at my favorite stoplight, the one that takes too long to change, I see her. My neighbor. Someone who apparently has someone to buy something for.
Stepping out of the Velvet Book with a bag in her hands, I’d recognize the curve of her smile from anywhere. Like the sun, it hurts to stare for too long.
After all of this time, I should be declared blind.
She’s wearing that fluffy white coat of hers, the one I despise. The one that makes her blend in with our surroundings on the mountain. Doesn’t she realize how dangerous it is to wear something like that? She’s asking for trouble, and I’m not even sure she realizes it.
Pinching my mouth into a thin line, I drink in the way her hair catches a gust of winter air, sending the sandy blonde hair whipping around her. With reddened cheeks, it makes me wonder if she’s bundled up enough.
Even now, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. A part of me still believes she’s not real. Just a figment of my imagination.
Damning her coat and worrying about her being bundled enough are the little things that’ll get me in trouble. Yet, my eyes linger, like I’m in a trance. I’ve lost all control when it comes to everything that is Nova.
Behind me, someone honks, urging me to move. Unfortunately, the sound doesn’t just reach my ears. Nova looks over, curious at the disturbance.
Scowling at the thought of getting caught looking her way, I’m caught before I can even think to look away.
We make eye contact, and I know it’s over. I’ve been noticed.
Another honk leaves me stomping down on the gas pedal. Flooring it away, I don’t let my eyes fall to my rear view mirror so I can catch one last glimpse of her. Instead, I focus on getting back on the mountain.
If she’s in town, I can go a few hours soaking in peace without worrying about her hurting herself.
Just thinking about her hitting the ground yesterday still has me grinding my teeth. If only she were the kind of person to ask for help. Crazy enough to buy the abandoned cabin across from me, I learned rather quickly just what kind of independent person she is.
Shaking my head like I can knock the image of her out, I put my focus on the mountain and will myself to get home faster.
Taking each curve home, I slow as I near my home. Up ahead, I see the same sight that makes my eyes twitch.
A car is hovering between our homes. From the phone sticking out of the passenger window, I know they’re taking a picture of Nova’s decorations.
Like the town, the young woman has decorated the hell out of the outside of her home. I’m talking flashing lights, a blow-up snowman that somehow hasn’t been blown away, and too many silver icicles. She’s even got a stereo resting on her porch, constantly playing music for anyone to listen to. Can’t say I know too many people who decorate the trees outside of their cabin, either, but she’s done it. Bulbs and lights, the whole thing.
