“It’s all part of the training I’ve had.”
“Ah, that’s right… you’re a fireman. I almost forgot.” I give his outfit the once over. “Should have known considering you’ve been dressed like Mr. December all day.”
“Yeah.” He pulls on the locked general store door, snow whipping against his shoulders. “Volunteer mostly these days. Keeps me busy while I’m waiting for the jail thing to blow over.”
“Well, fireman, looks like the general store is closed. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we should head back to the bookstore. I’ve got some extra gas in the truck, and I think I saw a generator behind the building. I’ll try to get that going with the space heater from the broom closet. If we keep tucked in the back, we should be fine.”
He rattles off the plan like it’s second nature and I hate how steady it makes me feel. I also hate how much I kind of enjoyed our little outing. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive.
“Okay,” I say, gripping into his hand instinctively as snow falls heavily around us. “Let’s go back.”
“You’re not going to give me a hard time? The hardware store is closed, the general store is closed, and the diner kicked us out. This is what you were afraid of. I’m ready for some eye rolls and a heavy dose of sarcastic, passive aggressive humor.”
“I’m sorry about all that.” Words plummet from my mouth and spill into the blizzard that’s circling us faster than I can comprehend. “I just… I have a really hard time trusting people.”
We step over the mound of snow at the sidewalk, moving between a clearing of trees and into the short expanse of woods between Main Street and Chestnut Lane as the pieces of my life story begin to claw at the back of my throat.
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” He grins and I appreciate the lightness. “Why’s that?”
Am I really going to say this out loud?
I shouldn’t say this out loud.
It would be a huge mistake to say this out loud.
I need to shut up before I say any of this out loud.
My fingers curl tighter around his as I tell myself it’s the cold, but deep down, I know it’s fear. Fear that Cole will walk away like everyone else. Fear that the second I’m honest about who I am, I’ll be punished for it somehow. All this fear, and yet, the words keep coming despite my frustration.
“I was five years old when my mom put me up for adoption.”
He doesn’t speak. He just holds my hand tighter as we walk through the snow-covered woods.
“I still remember her. Dark red hair like mine, a bright smile that I thought was just for me, and this dress with birds all over it. She liked baking cookies, and I remember one day after school, she said I could bake whatever I wanted.” I stare down at the dead pine needles poking up from the snow. “I chose chocolate chip. They were my favorite.”
Tears threaten their way onto my face. I hate that this still makes me cry. I’m twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t be crying about my childhood anymore. It’s the past. I can’t live in the past. I know this, yet the past affects me every single day.
Every. Single. Day.
“You’re okay.” Cole’s voice is deep and resonating, warming me without a single touch.
“We made the cookies, ate a few, laughed, and later that day, she dropped me off with Social Services.” I shrug and suck in a deep breath of pine. “I don’t remember much after that except being shuffled from house to house. I don’t know why I was never placed permanently. I tried my best to fit in with every family but for whatever reason it just never worked out.”
“Jesus, Tess.” Cole glances toward me, his hand together in mine as the bookstore nears. “What the hell?”
“I promised myself that I’d do what it takes to get into school, get my degree, and make a good life I could be proud of. I did that, but I’m missing the biggest part.”
“What’s that?”
“A family.” I catch the tears as they fall hot against the freezing air. “You’re right. I thought I’d find some blue-collar guy who’d been raised by a good family that would love me like their own. I romanticized the whole thing. The man, the family, the little cabin in the woods, the Christmas tree we’d cut down. It’s all a fantasy.”
“Does it have to be?”
I laugh under my breath as the storm howls around us. “I’ve been here for almost a year looking. I think I need to get back to the dream that was working.”
“And that’s the library?”
