“If you keep chopping at that pace, we’ll have enough wood to last us until next year’s bonfire,” Johnny said, pushing a wheelbarrow over to collect the mountain of wood I’d split to haul it over to where the bonfire was set up.
“Just making sure we have enough,” I said before bringing the axe down into a thick log. It instantly split down the middle with a sharp cracking sound. For a second, that piercing noise muted everything else. It was a second of absolute silence, and the more I chopped, the more seconds of silence I earned. In those minutes of stillness, I somehow found it easier to breathe.
“We have enough, boss,” Johnny mused, the logs banging against the metal of the wheelbarrow as he tossed them inside.
Propping the axe against the chopping block, I bent to help him. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t splitting wood because I thought we didn’t have enough. We had plenty. But it was a great way to exert some of the stuff I was feeling since seeing Toby this morning.
What stuff, you ask? I don’t ask you personal questions. Mind your business.
All I can say (and maybe admit even to myself) was that seeing him brought up a lot of emotions I thought were long buried.
Liar.
Fine. It made me acknowledge the stuff Itriedto bury. Ever since I drove away from the clinic this morning, my skin felt too tight. Frustration bubbled in my veins, and it was harder to concentrate on literally everything.
I couldn’t even blame it on worry for Marlowe. Toby was a great vet, and the pup was currently snoring it up in the corner of the bakery with Ma after getting a bunch of pity pets and solace snacks.
I told her not to spoil him.
She told me it was a grandmother’s right.
Maybe I spoiled him too. Why shouldn’t I? He was my best friend. Loyal in ways humans could never be.
The look in Toby’s eyes when I said I didn’t run away when things got hard replayed in my head over and over again.
“Where the heck did you even find all this wood to chop?” Johnny wondered, but I didn’t reply, too busy reliving the way Toby’s features pinched before smoothing out once more.
The jab hit its mark, just like I knew it would. But why should I feel bad? It was the truth. If it hurt him, then maybe that was his fault.
I expected him to retaliate with a barb of his own. That’s what he always did in the past. Like the time he stole all the clothes out of my locker and left me naked. Not this time. This time, he chose to say nothing, and his silence was disarming. As was the way he recalled my mother and her soft heart just moments later.
We hadn’t always been enemies.
Sharp snapping jerked me back to the moment, and I recoiled at the hand right in front of my face.
“Earth to Archer,” Johnny called.
I pushed his hand down and focused on him. “Sorry. What?”
Johnny laughed under his breath and then gestured over by the barn. “Mayor’s here.”
I spun to see Mayor Schroder standing at the edge of the parking lot near the large barn where we kept the saws and wagons for tree cutting and also the netting machine to wrap them up once they were selected.
I waved, and he returned the gesture.
“Who wears a dress coat to harvest mistletoe?” I wondered beneath my breath.
Johnny snickered. “He is the mayor.”
Must be why I wasn’t, because wearing a suit, dress shoes, and a long wool coat on the daily seemed like torture.
“You got this?” I asked, gesturing to the wheelbarrow.
“Sure thing,” Johnny replied.
“Thanks.” I clapped him on the back and started toward Mayor Schroder and his ankle-length tan wool coat.
“Mr. Mayor,” I greeted the moment I was within earshot. “Glad you could make it.”
