Page 20 of Goode Tidings

"I already am a pariah," I say, though it's not really true. I think the town of Snowflake would be more than happy to welcome me to the fold if I showed signs of interest.

Eden eyes me. "Do people in this town know you're not supposed to be here?"

I don't have time to stand here and make small talk. I need to set about ridding myself of this skunk scent as soon as possible.

Ignoring her question, I say what I came out of the office to say before the skunk derailed my plans. "Before my encounter with the asshole skunk, I was coming up here to thank you for dinner last night. I also meant to return your dish, and I am just now realizing I forgot to bring it with me."

"Your dish," Eden corrects. "That container was from your kitchen."

"Oh. Right."

Eden's head tips to the side, thoughtfully scrutinizing me. "Why don't you know what you have in your kitchen?"

The truth is, I had a couple extra fingers of whiskey one night about a year ago, and did some online retail therapy. I'd finished updating the cabin, but the inside felt bare. No soul, no life.

Kind of like me.

So I gave my credit card a workout, buying matching dishes and glasses, small kitchen appliances and cooking utensils and an unnecessary variation of spices. Most of it has been unused, except for the green chili smoked finishing salt. I put that on every can of stew and chili I eat. So, basically, I put it on everything.

But I won't be telling Eden any variation of the truth. The woman has already seen me in too many embarrassing and compromising situations, I'm not interested in looking even more pathetic in front of her.

I frown, because it's what I'm good at. "I have better things to do than keep a tally of every item in my house."

She arches an eyebrow. My house. I heard myself say it, and I'm not taking it back. Which brings me to my second reason for stepping outside that office today. Justin.

"Can you please give Justin my phone number and ask him to call me?"

Eden pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, a grin stretching her face wide. "You do realize this will mean I have your phone number, right?"

"Yes, I do." I recite the ten digits as Eden keys them in.

"I'll use it." The way she says it makes it sound like a playful threat. "Do you like funny memes? I love them. I like to laugh, and you look like it's been a while since you cracked a smile, so I'll send you some."

"Please don't," I answer, shifting away abruptly. My stomach is turning, no doubt thanks to the rotten egg smell. I need to get away from this woman before I add vomit to the list of things I've done in front of her. "See you around," I add, with a perfunctory wave over my shoulder.

I don't know if she's watching me walk away, but because I haven't heard the door of the cabin close, I'm assuming she is. I don't want to walk into the office smelling the way I do, so I duck around the backside of the small building and change quickly. If I didn't have two intruders in my cabin, I would have undressed in nature and taken the hottest shower known to man.

There's movement in the pines to my left. A snicker. A piece of folded paper jammed into the peeling bark on the trunk of a nearby tree.

Pulling on my new pants and shirt, I leave my ruined clothes in a pile and walk over to grab the note.

As always, it's blank.

I've never had the heart to tell Marco that his invisible ink is nonexistent. Maybe because I had an active imagination when I was a kid, too. I used to stand at the edge of this lake in search of an amphibious monster living below the water's surface. Every ripple in the lake felt like a possible appearance. One day, Justin asked me what I was staring at, and I told him. He was into it with me, and we rode our bikes to the town library in search of books about mythic monsters of the deep. It was the first time I felt close to my stepbrother, and I clung to it. When we returned to school that fall, he told everyone in our class that I spent my summer looking for a lake monster. They laughed, and mercilessly teased me. I wanted to cry, not at their laughter but at the sadness I felt over Justin's betrayal. Instead of crying, I slugged him in the nose and earned a three-day suspension from school. I never did get in trouble at home. My mom was upset, but Justin's dad? He said people who run their mouths need to learn how to defend it.

My phone dings. A text message from an unknown number.

Oliver and I are going into town if you'd like to join us?

I stare at the screen, considering the invitation and its implication.

Join Eden and Oliver? In town? For what, a leisurely stroll? No thanks. If I do that, people will ask questions. Everyone will want to know who Eden is, and why I'm with her. They'll ask for an introduction. They'll ask follow-up questions. The people of Snowflake are unbelievably nosy.

But also... what if it's not the worst way to spend time? It might not be awful to walk through town and experience it from a newcomer's perspective.

Three dots pop up on my screen. She's typing.

I wait. And wait. And wait. Is she writing an essay? Honestly, that might be in her wheelhouse. She seems the type to send a rambling dictation, and⁠—