Lex and Cooper both shrug and I shake my head. “We’re lucky we don’t burn this place down.”
I pour the boiling water into my mug with the tea bag and then refill it and stick it back on the burner. Lex has his head cocked now and he’s watching me curiously. “Why you so happy?”
“Who said I was happy?” I ask and steep my tea.
“My facial muscles haven’t even woken up yet but you’re smiling,” Lex says and I reach up and touch my face. Then I smile even more.
“See you two at the gym,” I say without explaining myself and drop the tea bag into the trash, which is almost overflowing, and head for the front door. It takes me a minute to find matching shoes in the heap that’s piled next to the shoe rack, not on it. Maybe we should hire Manly Maids, I think with a smirk.
It’s a cold windy morning. There’re big, dark storm clouds making it look more like five in the morning than quarter to seven, but I have a job to do whether the weather likes it or not. I hop in the truck and head to the farm. I park next to the barn. There’s a couple lights on in the house, but I know my brother is getting ready for school, my dad is probably out in the orchard, and Gramps and Grams are still puttering in the kitchen. They start work later and later the older they get. I don’t expect to see anyone, and I don’t as I make my way into the barn holding my breath.
I half expect to not find what I’m looking for, but there it is. Aunt Louise finally did something right. Well… I pause that thought as I examine the flowers. She did something half right. I’d asked her, since she works at the garden center in Colebury, to get me a deal on some flowers. I told her it was to spruce up the hockey house and then I gave her a specific list of types. Dahlias, pansies, marigolds. What I ended up with was not the ones I asked for—at least not from the pictures I Googled of them. But these were colorful and healthy looking, so I wasn’t about to complain. There was a note there with the amount, and I was pleased she’d kept it in my budget too.
I load the flowers and a ladder into the truck, head on over to park like an FBI surveillance van down the street from Maggie’s apartment, and wait. I’d been texting with her last night, mostly sending each other snarky comments and sexual innuendos, but I managed to subtly find out that Caroline had gone home for a few days, she and Daisy had early classes, and Jasmyn was spending the night at her boyfriend Rhys’s place. Ten minutes into my stakeout, Daisy and Maggie emerge from their apartment. They’re holding travel mugs and talking animatedly as they lock the door and make their way down the street. I smile as I watch her and get this sense of peace I haven’t felt in a really long time.
Once they’re out of sight, I take a deep breath and jump out of my truck. The risk factor in this little stunt is high. Jasmyn could come home. Daisy and Maggie could come back early. Someone in the building could not believe the cover story I have and call the police. So many risk factors, but I’m going for it anyway.
I carry the flowers to her front yard and then up the ladder, which is not easy. Neither is climbing over her balcony railing with the flowers. But I really don’t like that she decimated her private garden to try and compete with my silly dunk tank trick. I don’t have a ton of extra cash to throw around but with Louise’s employee discount and the little cash I could spare, I manage to put something in each empty box and pot. It’s not a lot, but it’s something and it looks pretty, if I do say so myself. Most importantly, I don’t get caught…at least not until I’m making my way down the ladder to escape and the tenant below their apartment sticks his graying head out a window and stares at me.
“Just a little emergency maintenance on the third floor. Sorry if I bothered you, sir,” I say with what I hope is a credible smile.
He looks up at Maggie’s balcony and back at me. “I’ve been complaining about my dripping kitchen faucet for three months but of course the landlord fixes the hot college girls’ stuff first,” he huffs and slams his window shut.
He might complain to the landlord, but I’ll be long gone.
After heading home to drop off the truck and clean up, I walk back to campus and start my actual day. I don’t see Maggie or hear from her the entire time so I don’t know if she’s discovered my little gift.
My day ends with hockey practice. The locker room is already half full and others trail in behind me at a steady pace as I undress and throw on workout gear. Today is dry land training, not ice, which means Coach Garfunkle is in charge. He makes us meditate for the first fifteen minutes. He’s been doing it since the beginning of the year, and as usual, snoring starts to fill the room because some of the guys fall asleep, which then leads to uncontrollable snorts and guffaws from the other guys. Garfunkle takes it in stride, like he always does, and tells us we’ll get better with practice.
Then we go in groups into the drill room to do partnered resistance training with elastics and ropes and stuff. Coach Keller pops in and out to survey us but says nothing until the end when we’re back in the locker room about to hit the showers. “Nice work out there boys. I have high hopes for you in the season opener next week. I’m about to tell you who will be on that ice for puck drop in that game. And yeah it’s only the first game but it sets the tone for the year. I’m telling you six days in advance of the game in case you aren’t first line and want to be. Bust your ass in the coming days and change my mind. If you are on it and don’t want to end up on the bench when the puck drops, then don’t slack. Iwillchange it.”
He starts to read the names of the starting line, and mine is one of them. I want to smile and even crow in victory, but I don’t want to be an asshole to my teammates who aren’t on it. And Keller isn’t kidding, he will drop anyone to second line or third if he’s given reason to, so I sit there and just nod at my name and continue to undress.
As I wrap a towel around my waist and head to the showers, Garfunkle stops me. “I told you that crystal would help.”
“What?”
“The crystal I gave you a couple weeks ago,” he says smiling. “It really changed your chi. I can feel it on and off the ice. You’re in a good place.”
“I think I am, Coach,” I say and try not to laugh. “Thanks.”
He looks so damn pleased with himself I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s because of a hot redhead not a hunk of stone he gave me. And, as if to prove that point, I feel my chi get even brighter when I step out of the arena twenty minutes later and see Maggie sitting on the steps, bundled in a thick, oversized cable knit sweater and leggings, sipping a coffee and reading a textbook.
“Someone should snap your picture and give it to the admissions office,” I tell her as I walk over. “If I was a high school student, I’d take one look at it and immediately send in my application.”
She glances up from her book and gives me the softest, most intimate smile, and I know she’s been home and seen her balcony. Everything in me gets warmer despite the cool air swirling around me and my still wet hair.
“No compliments, Tater Tot. It’s not who we are,” she reminds me softly.
“I meant because of the latte and the nice sweater. Total Vermont vibes. What really helps sell it is the fact your hair looks more brown than red thanks to the clouds and it shields that hideous face of yours from view,” I reply swiftly and her head snaps up and the look of pure shock on her face is priceless. I wink. “Better?”
“I am one second away from tossing this latte in your face,” she warns and the amber in her eyes glints with mock anger.
“Don’t waste good caffeine, Firecracker,” I reply. “Now, what are you doing here? Just had to see my face before you ended your day?”
“Ha-ha,” she says and stands up, facing me. Her eyes are so filled with awe and something else I can’t place but makes me feel like a rock star. “Someone broke into my apartment today and instead of stealing stuff, they filled my empty flower boxes.”
I fake shock. “Wow. That’s crazy. I guess someone took pity on your horrible gardening skills, or got sick of looking at your ugly muddy barren flower boxes and decided to take matters into their own hands. Did you call 9-1-1? Is there a statewide manhunt?”
