12. Chapter 12

The next day, my eyes are still red, and an angry rash covers my arm from trying to pick up one of the cats. The Benadryl Cassie so generously sent home with Dad helped me sleep, but it didn't clear up the after-effects of her cat attack any more than it made up for what she did yesterday. Maybe she told Dad the truth when she said she didn't know "how allergic" I am to cats, but that's not a denial that she knew I was allergic before she filled the shop with them.

On my way home from work, I stop at Zach's office to show him the evidence of my face-to-face encounter with death. Georgia's the one putting the hard sell on Cassie to buy the shop, but Zach's the agent on the deal. He needs to know what kind of client he's dealing with. Cassie is so much worse than the typical Californian who shows up here, wanting what we have in Paradise, but also wanting to change it.

Cassie's willing to go to any length to get what she wants, including using cats.

Which is exactly what I tell both him and Georgia when I walk into his office and find both of them there, Georgia on his lap. Gross.

But I'm also reminded that I didn't actually give Cassie her flowers.

I don't feel bad about that.

When Zach—who's as allergic to cats as I am—doesn't react with enough alarm, I tell him the whole truth. "She tried to kill me with cats."

Maybe it's a slightly exaggerated truth, but they need to understand the seriousness of the situation.

"What do you mean she tried to kill you?" Georgia asks without even pretending to believe me.

"I mean, she found out I'm allergic to cats and filled the whole shop with them." I let out a cough as evidence of my ordeal, then sink into a chair in front of Zach's desk.

"How would she know you're allergic?" Zach asks.

I look straight at my sister-in-law. "I don't know. How do you think she'd know, Georgia?"

Her eyebrow shoots up. "Are you accusing me of telling her? Because it sounds like you're accusing Cassie and me of plotting against you."

I raise my hands, palms up. "I mean, you're the one who's pushing her to buy the shop even though you know I want it. If you didn't help her, she found out somehow and used the information to make sure she wins."

Georgia and Zach both stare at me until Georgia says, "Okay. Let me get this straight. You think Cassie did some superhero-movie-level investigating to find out your greatest weakness, then lured you to a shop full of cats to kill you via anaphylactic shock?"

Zach's lip tugs into a smile. "I think you mean anaphy-cat-lic shock."

He and Britta have a weird thing for puns. Sometimes they're funny.

Not today.

Georgia stifles a giggle, and I stare them both down until their smiles disappear.

"You're really making jokes about me nearly dying?" I sneeze, then scratch one forearm at a time, then all down my legs. "I itch everywhere, and I can't quit sneezing. Because of Cassie."

"If I told her you're allergic, it would have been when I told her she shouldn't get a cat," Georgia says, her smile gone. "I honestly don't remember what I said. But, Bear, Cassie wouldn't fill the entire shop with cats to kill you. She might fill it with cats to kill the mice that are there because of you."

Georgia is known for her big smile and her red lipstick, but her mouth now is one long, crimson line.

I shift in my chair, wanting to scratch, but the itch I'm feeling is under my skin.

"Did you call the exterminator?" Zach asks.

I chew my bottom lip before answering. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"No need. I already did," Georgia says flatly. "He'll be there Monday."

"Did you see any mice while you were at the shop?" Zach asks, adding his own dig. "Or have the cats solved the problem you created?"

I get it. I do. I shouldn't have encouraged every mouse within a hundred-mile range to move into the shop and the studio. I played dirty.

But I didn't try to hurt anyone. I'm not the one who's in the most wrong here, so I appeal to Zach and Georgia's sympathies.

"I was too focused on trying to breathe to notice any mice, except the one a cat was eating in the Mustang." When no sympathy comes my way, I go bigger. "Who's going to clean that up? I can't get near the shop until it's cat free. I won't be able to work on the Mustang either."

Zach fakes a surprised look. "You have plans for it besides letting it sit in the shop for another three years?"

"I've been busy taking care of Mom for the last three years!"

The entire room falls into silence, resembling the aftermath of an explosion when witnesses are figuring out what's happened. Georgia is the first to move. She pushes herself off Zach's lap, comes around the desk to wrap her arm around me. Because she always knows when I need a hug.

"Look," Zach says in the same soothing voice Dad uses when he wants to bring down the temperature between me and my brothers. "How about I get a pickup game together? We've been talking about since Christmas. I know it's not much, but at least we'd get one more game on the ice. If by next year the pond's gone, at least we'll have created one last memory on it."

"Fine," I mumble, not ready to admit it's a good idea.

"I'm sorry this is hard, Bear." Georgia's words are gentle, and I let myself relax into her hug.

Which is a mistake, because she has more to say, and she's gripping me tight enough that I can't get away without being rude and childish.

"But I know you can figure out a different rink for the girls." She loosens her grip and sits on the arm of my chair.

"I don't want a new rink. I want the same rink I learned to play on. There's nothing wrong with that rink." I scoot away from Georgia, but since I fill most of the chair, I only put a couple of centimeters between us.

"Dude! What are you talking about?" Zach throws up his arms. "We hated playing on that pond. The ice is bumpy and uneven. How many times did we have a blade catch and get thrown face first on the ice when we were about to score?"

"Yeah, and who cares? It made us tough." I keep my eyes on my hands clasped between my knees.

"But we knew how to be safe before we got on the ice," Zach says. "We knew how cold it had to be outside for the pond to be frozen, how to check the thickness of the ice, what to do if it cracked. People moving here don't know any of those things. How are you going to make sure everyone who steps on that pond will be safe, Bear?"

"I have suggestions for all that in my proposal!" Not detailed suggestions, but I've got time to outline them through more carefully. I'm not unaware of the risks. I just believe the benefits are greater.

But Zach's never been into pond hockey the way I am. He can't hack it, so of course, he thinks the pond is crap.

"Bear, if you'd wanted the pond bad enough," he says in a more measured tone that starts lecture warning bells ringing in my head. "You would have been pounding down the doors of every city council member in town trying to convince them to approve your proposal. I've seen you fight for what you really want. You're being stubborn—and acting entitled, to be honest—because you're losing. Suddenly you're willing to fight for the pond when you should be fighting for the team and what's best for them. If you want those girls to have a rink, find a way to get them the best one possible."

I'm bigger than Zach, but he's older, so he thinks it's his job to give me a "good talking-to" every once in a while. I wish he'd wrestle with me instead, like Seb does when we have a disagreement. A good headlock is less painful than being called stubborn and entitled.

I meet his gaze, but I have no idea what to say to him. His buzzing phone doesn't give me time to think of anything. He looks away from me to pick it up.

Conversation over.

I push myself up from my chair. There's no point in staying, so I walk out of his office and down the hall toward the main exit.

Georgia and Zach are both okay with Paradise growing and changing. They don't see what we're losing every time a local sells their wide-open space, so someone who doesn't know or love Paradise can build a giant house on it. Georgia and Zach see dollar signs and more opportunity.

I don't begrudge them that. I see Georgia's point: if Paradise doesn't grow and change, it will die.

But when the pond is gone, a piece of Mom will be gone with it. I won't have kids before she's gone, too. I'll never be able to take them skating on the pond while telling them all about how their Grandma Heidi taught me to skate there, too.

It's not just my current team I want the pond for. It's every team that comes after them. Most importantly, I want it for the family I hope to have one day.

Georgia catches up to me before I get to the front door. She grabs my arm before I can push it open, and I'm forced to look back at her.

"I'll talk to Cassie about the cats. No one's saying she didn't cross a line. But you crossed that line first, Bear. She gave back exactly what she got."

I look at her hand, then back to her and she lets it fall from my arm. "Really, Georgia? You're really going to blow this off? If it were Zach who couldn't breathe, would you feel the same way?"

She blinks hard, and I finally see understanding in her eyes. Imagining Zach in the same situation gets her to see how serious it was.

But it also hollows out my chest.

Zach, Adam, and Seb all have someone who loves him so much she'd do anything for him. That used to be Mom for my brothers and me. I don't blame her for not being that person anymore, and I love my sisters-in-law. I'm happy for my brothers.

But I guess I'm also jealous. I miss having someone love me as fiercely as Mom did.

"Bear," Georgia says gently. "You've been rude to Cassie since she got here. I know she embarrassed you last summer, but you both need to let things go. Can you make the first move? She's one of my best friends, and she's going through a really hard time, just like you."

I press my lips together and give her a tight nod. Georgia doesn't go for my tepid response. She throws her arms around me, then makes me bend down so she can kiss my cheek.

She releases me, then gives me a cheeky grin. "You know, if Cassie stays in Paradise, you might get a second chance with her."

I roll my eyes and walk out the door. I don't get far before I'm wondering what she meant by Cassie going through a "hard time." Cassie always seems calm and put together. Not even all the mice got to her.

She didn't even panic when I had my asthma attack around the cats. In fact, she handled the whole situation before it turned into an actual emergency, talking calmly, getting me to take slow breaths. I have to give her credit for that, even if the situation was her fault to begin with.

This and a million other thoughts about Cassie swirl through my brain as I stand outside. A squirrel darts past me, then another, and there's one more not far behind, so I look to see where they're going.

One squirrel I wouldn't normally pay much attention to. Two might be mildly interesting. But three means Lynette, Paradise's resident alien-conspiracy-theorist and squirrel hoarder—not to be confused with Harvey, Paradise's resident Taylor Swift conspiracy-theorist and cat hoarder—is nearby.

Lynette is also about to add local millionaire to her bio since she's the same Lynette whose land and pond behind the shop Zach is selling to developers. Her squirrels decided this winter to move to the town square in front of City Hall—which is near Zach's office.

Seeing them gives me an idea, so I switch course and do what everyone does when they want to find Lynette: Follow the squirrels. If I want to keep the pond, why not go right to the source and ask Lynette if there's a way we can work something out. It's a long shot, but I'll try anything at this point.

I don't want to call Lynette crazy, but she has an official diagnosis of some sort. She's supposed to be on meds, but she's harmless, so we all just let her do her thing. And her thing is to wear tinfoil hats to protect her from aliens reading her mind while hand-feeding the squirrels of Paradise. The two aren't necessarily related—she just does them both at the same time.

The hats help her feel safe, so no one is interested in telling her she doesn't need them. In fact, my brother Adam makes them for her on the regular.

Her band of about a dozen squirrels—besides being the inspiration for my teams' name—have become a nuisance. They're a little too used to being fed, and not afraid of people anymore. When Lynette's not around, they expect to be fed by whoever is, and they don't take no for an answer. Or, if no one is around, they get aggressive about eating what they want.

Like all the mistletoe for Paradise's Yulefest this past Christmas. Hope and my dad had to fight them off the boxes Dad had in the Christmas tree lot.

The squirrels won.

I turn the corner and see Lynette and her squirrels in the middle of the town square. As I approach, I also see Mayor Voglmeyer ahead of me, and I almost turn around to leave.

But then I remember the mayor has been on a mission to rid Paradise of all the squirrels after the city had to dig into their budget for more mistletoe. Lynette may need some backup.

Darlene reaches Lynette first. "I'm glad I caught you, Lynette," she says in the kind of professional manner that only confuses Lynette. "I'm sorry, but since you've ignored the city's warnings, I've had to call an exterminator to take care of them."

"You don't own this square. It's public property," Lynette says.

I stop before reaching them. The mayor hasn't seen me, and I don't want to risk escalating things if I can avoid it. If I defend Lynette, the mayor could turn this disagreement into a full-fledged war against Lynette.

"The city owns it, and I'm the mayor. The squirrels have become a nuisance and need to be moved or destroyed." The mayor puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side as though Lynette is a small child, even though she's twice the mayor's size.

"The trees here are their favorites, and they've stashed their nuts here. They won't have anything to eat if I move them before spring." Lynette looks close to tears as she fidgets with her fingers before shoving her hands in her pockets.

I want to jump in and help her, but I'd only make things worse.

"You should have thought of that before you started feeding them here." The mayor's head wags side to side, like one of those popular girls picking on a nerdy kid in a high school movie.

I've never met that kind of girl in real life, but Mayor Voglmeyer comes close.

"They're my friends," Lynette says softly.

And now I can't stay still.

In three steps, I'm next to Lynette at the same time the mayor says, "Not my problem."

"Is everything okay?" As soon as the words are out, I know I'm saying goodbye to any chance of the city council accepting my proposal.

The mayor's eyes narrow at me. "I'm just reminding Lynette that the squirrels can't stay here."

"I'll help her figure out where to move them. You can call off the exterminator."

Lynette glances over her shoulder to give me a grateful smile, bolstering my confidence, and I return the mayor's glare. If I've already lost, I might as well lose big.

"Don't you have bigger things to worry about than squirrels, Bjorn?" Mayor Voglmeyer shrugs back her shoulders and lifts her chin, then walks toward the parking lot.

As soon as the mayor is out of sight, Lynette digs into the giant purse? at her side and pulls out a bag of nuts. She juts the plastic bag at me and says, "Here. You can help me feed them. They like you."

I smile. This is her thank you. I'll take it.

I hold open the bag so she can take out a handful of nuts. Then she crouches down and clicks her tongue, holding a nut in each hand. Within seconds, she has two takers. The squirrels come right up to her, their little paws patting her fingers before taking the nut from her.

"Your turn," she says without standing.

I get down next to her, not sure what to expect, only knowing I have to stay quiet. If I can accidentally scare Charly, I don't stand a chance with a pack of squirrels. They're mostly tame, but they're still not domesticated.

Following Lynette's example, I hold out my hand with the nut and wait patiently for my own takers. They don't approach me with the same confidence they do Lynette. Two get close, then run away, get a little closer, and run away again. They do this a few times, but each time they turn back to me, they come closer, until finally they run all the way to my hands.

They don't take their time the way they did with Lynette. They grab the nuts and run.

I burst into a laugh. "That's so cool! They're really friendly."

Lynette nods vigorously. "Because they like you. If they didn't, they might bite. But I've never seen them do that. It's okay if they do, though, because squirrels don't carry rabies."

And suddenly, as much as I hate to admit it, I see the mayor's point. The squirrels really can't stay here. Between Huckleberry Days in June and all the summer tourists, the town square fills up. Someone getting hurt is inevitable. Most likely a kid or a squirrel.

"Lynette." I make my voice quiet and gentle. "We've got to find somewhere else for your friends. They're not safe here."

She looks at me with wide, innocent eyes and straightens her tinfoil hat over her nest of gray, frizzy hair. "Because of the aliens?"

I shake my head. "Because of Mayor Voglmeyer."

Lynette squints, confused, then turns back to her squirrels. "That's what I said. The aliens."

"Right." I smile, but I'm scouring my mind, trying to think of somewhere they would be safe. There's too much snow higher in the mountains right now. They wouldn't be able to find food. They've stashed their winter store here in the town square.

There's only one place that might work. Except for the fact it's currently full of cats. And even though their stomachs are probably full of mice, they still might eat the squirrels.

But, I'm pretty sure I know who the cats belong to, so getting rid of them might be easier than walking through a room full of them was.

"Lynette, I've got an idea where we can move your squirrels. Temporarily, until we find a more permanent place with plenty of trees." I stand up and brush snow from my knees. "Did Harvey say anything about loaning out some of his cats?"

Harvey checks on Lynette every day. Not by phone, obviously, since phones attract aliens. He goes to Lynette's house every morning with coffee from Britta's, and at least once a week some ebelskiver too. Lynette used to come in herself, but she's quit over the past year. Too many people she doesn't know—potential aliens—have moved in.

"He did. He heard there was a mouse problem at your old auto shop, so he took at least a dozen over." She turns her palm to a squirrel, and it jumps into her hand, then scurries up her arm.

When he's perched on her shoulder, she stands. "He said he's going back for them tomorrow."

"Perfect." I stare at the squirrel, half-envious he's so comfortable sitting there and half-worried he and his buddies might be planning world domination with Lynette as their puppet. "If he gets them all out, we can take the squirrels to the trees behind the shop until we find a more permanent place for them—away from the aliens."

Lynette smiles and nods, then stretches her arm toward the ground for the squirrel to run down and scurry away.

"Good." I grin back at her, only slightly more pleased to be helping her and the squirrels, as I am at the thought they might make things hard for Cassie.

"Do you need a ride home? Or dinner?" I ask.

Lynette shakes her head. "I'm having dinner with my friends. They'll take me home."

I nod toward the squirrels who are now running around in the trees bordering Town Square. "Seems as though they're finding their own dinner. Sure you don't want me to take you home?"

Lynette looks at me like I'm crazy. "I'm not eating with the squirrels, Bear. With Adam and Evie." She points across the street to the Garden of Eatin'.

"Got it." I huff a laugh. "As soon as Harv's cats are gone, we'll move your squirrel friends. Do you have cages for these guys? Or do I need to get some?"

"I'm sure there's something in my old barn that will work. Or maybe Harv will let me borrow his cat carriers." Lynette has already turned back to her squirrels, watching them run up and down the tree trunks, chasing each other.

I leave her standing in the fading light of day. Clouds are moving in, and the temperature is dropping fast. I'm relieved Lynette has dinner plans with Adam and Evie, so she won't stay out in the cold for too long. I also realize I forgot to talk to her about the pond. But that can wait another day or two until her squirrels are safe.

On my way to the parking lot and my Jeep, I text Georgia.

Tell Cassie I'll help her take the cats back to Harvey. I need the shop.