Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Echo

W hen I wake up, I wish I hadn’t. The phone buzzes annoyingly in my ear.

“Huh?” I manage.

“Echo!”

“No, Gloria, whatever it is, no.”

“Why does everyone say that to me?”

“I have no idea,” I mumble, hoping she gets to the point soon.

“I just called to see how you are. How’s your ankle?”

“I think I was hit by a truck rather than a small dog.”

Everything aches and my ankle is swollen to twice its usual size. Now that I’m awake, I need the bathroom, but I’m not looking forward to moving.

“Do you need me to come over to take care of you?”

“I’m fine,” I say hastily.

I can’t think of anything worse than Gloria coming over to nurse me. I love her, but no. I need to eat and sleep. Then I’ll be fine.

“Are you sure? I’m not working today. I begged the sheriff for the day off so I can go to the tree lighting ceremony.”

It’s a real big thing in Collier’s Creek. Another Jake’s tradition. We have a local celebrity to press the button and everything. I love the way this town embraces their founder’s traditions. Randy had coerced me into taking part in the Jake’s Day parade to represent the Bar and Grill. I dressed up as a cowboy, which was ridiculous because I’ve never been near a horse in my life. Alligators, now they’re a different matter.

“You should come tonight,” she says. “Dean will be there.”

“He will?” I don’t hide my dubious tone. I can’t imagine my shy—whoa, hold on! He’s not ‘my’ anything. He is the guy who helped me yesterday because I needed someone to feed my cat. Speaking of which, where is my princess? I raise my head to see her curled up on the other side of the bed, fast asleep. That’s weird. Usually she bats my face, demanding to be fed, but she just sleeps on.

“He always supports the mayor. It’s a thing,” Gloria says, unaware she’s lost my attention.

“I’m supposed to keep the weight off my foot today,” I say, ignoring the discussion about Dean. “I’ll see the tree another time.”

“That’s a shame. You’re missing a great event.”

“My ankle is swollen. I’ll go next year,” I promise. “If I’m not working.”

“There’s always the Christmas Bash. You should be walking by then,” she suggests. “Okay. Talk to you soon, honey.”

And she’s gone, leaving me to contemplate going back to sleep. But I really do need the bathroom.

I stand up, and my stomach does a sickening roll as I put weight on my ankle without thinking. I sit down, breathing deeply until the nausea fades.

“Man, this sucks.” I won’t be going anywhere today. I squint at my phone. Nearly ten o’clock. I can’t believe I slept for twelve hours. I send a quick text to the bar, but I don’t expect an immediate response.

I shuffle into the bathroom with the aid of the crutches, use the john, contemplate a shower, decide that’s too much effort, and clean my teeth and splash water on my face instead.

Five minutes later I’m back in bed, via a detour to the kitchen to feed Ariel because now I’m up, she’s wide awake and vocal, telling me that she’s clearly a poor starving animal who hasn’t been fed for days, except I can see by the contents of her bowl that Dean had fed her the previous night.

“Uncle Dean was so good to you,” I coo.

Good grief, Uncle Dean? Thank goodness no one heard me say that out loud.

I give Ariel a stern look. “Don’t you tell anyone. They’ll never let me forget it.”

She makes no promises. Probably wise.

I pick up a bottle of water, a fresh icepack, and a pack of cookies and shuffle back to my bed, collapsing onto the mattress with a sigh of relief. I doze for a couple of hours, my foot propped up on two pillows with the icepack, and my dreams full of a shy man with sad eyes dressed in a Santa hat, until my phone buzzes again. I check the screen this time and breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s Aunt Hebe, video-calling me to see how I am. She always does that, swearing people lie but their expressions give them away.

“Morning, Aunt Hebe.” I yawn into the screen.

“Hand over your mouth, please, Echo.”

I oblige for the second yawn. “What time is it?”

“Just gone noon. Are you still in bed?”

“Yeah, I’ve been up once to feed the cat, but I’m wiped out. I hope that doesn’t last.”

“It won’t,” she assures me. “You’ll feel fine in a couple of days. I sprained my ankle last year, just before you arrived in the Creek. I couldn’t believe how painful it was, but it didn’t take long to be up on my feet. Did Dean take you home last night?”

I sigh. “You mean you don’t already know. I bet the whole town knows by now.”

“Of course they do, dear,” she says, her tone placid. “I’m just making conversation.”

I apologize, because she’s the only member of my family who cares if I live or die and I don’t want to upset her.

“Don’t think about it,” she says. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours for you. You stay in bed, and I’ll be over later to bring you something bad for you from the ceremony.”

“With chocolate?” I ask hopefully.

“Would I do anything else…and don’t mention the 2012 fair. That was one time and only because your brother insisted you loved broccoli. And I made up for it.”

“It was my brother,” I point out. “He hates me.”

“I didn’t know that at the time.”

She hadn’t, and her relationship with her sister, my mom, was as rocky as mine with my brother, so no one had told her. When the other kids had gotten chocolate, and I received a bag of broccoli I thought she hated me too. I’d burst into tears and run away. She’d been the one to find me. No one else in my family had bothered.

This kinda sums up my life. Hebe is the one diamond in the dung pile of my family. I’m probably mixing metaphors here. So, no upsetting the aunty.

“A vegetable-free treat please,” I request.

“Understood.”

Uh-oh. Her wicked grin worries me. I brace myself for whatever is coming next.

“Dean is taking over your Santa role.”

“Huh? It was one afternoon.”

She hoots with laughter. “You can’t be that na?ve to think it would be one afternoon. Gloria had you down for the whole month.”

I stare at her in horror. “No.”

“Uh-huh. Now Dean is going to be Santa.”

“But he hates Christmas.”

The smile slides off her face. “He does. But maybe it’s time for him to realize that Christmas doesn’t hate him.”

“I don’t understand, Aunty.” I sit up, careful not to jog my ankle, and run my hand through my hair.

I didn’t like the idea of Dean being forced to do something he didn’t want to do. That’s bullying, and Gloria is full-on, but I never thought she was a bully. I’m surprised at my aunt condoning it. She isn’t usually like that.

“You should ask Dean.”

“You’re not going to explain, are you?”

“No. It’s his story.”

“Not if the whole town is involved in bullying him.”

Aunt Hebe looks shocked at my heated words. “No one wants to bully him, Echo. We just want him to live again.”

A light flicks on inside my head. “It’s to do with the accident, isn’t it?”

Her mouth falls open. “He told you about it?”

“He mentioned it in passing.”

“Dean never talks about it, to anyone. Except maybe his brother.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to remember a bad time in his life.” I feel uncomfortable at having this discussion about the man when he’s not here.

“You could be right. It’s hard to talk about the death of a loved one.”

“Wait! What?”

Ariel pokes her tiny head around the door as if she wants to check I’m all right. She jumps up onto the bed with a chirrup.

Hebe nods as if she’s agreeing with my exclamation. “I never met Marty of course; it was before I moved here. But I heard he was a nice boy and devoted to Dean. His parents moved away after the accident. They couldn’t take the strain of living in Collier’s Creek.”

“Dean had a boyfriend?” I manage.

Shocked, I flop back onto the pillows, biting back a cry as it jogs my ankle. No way! The guy with the locked and bolted closet had a boyfriend?

“Yes, of course.” Aunt Hebe furrows her brow. “Didn’t he tell you that?”

“He told me he’d been in an accident at Christmas. He never mentioned a boyfriend. Is that why everyone knows he’s gay?”

“I think it’s kind of an open secret among the residents who’ve been here a while. No one talks about Marty, especially not to Dean. He’s kind of fragile, you know?”

No, I didn’t know. But I do now. I need time to process the conversation because it explains a lot but opens so many questions.

“I’ve got to go, Aunt Hebe.”

She gives me a knowing look. “You know where I am if you want to talk to me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He needs a friend.”

“He has friends,” I protest.

“Not really. Most people walk on eggshells around him. Maybe be there for him like he was for you last night.”

Then she was gone, leaving me stunned, staring up at the ceiling, and not sure what to think.

A minute later there’s a ping.

Dean’s cell number.

Another ping.

I think I just got volunteered.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve at least shifted my butt—and one leg—onto the couch with a steaming cup of coffee on the table. Ariel jumps onto my lap, circles around a couple of times, kneads my thighs and settles down.

My brain hasn’t stopped racing since my call with Aunt Hebe. My heart aches for Dean, losing a lover so young. But part of me wonders why he’s never gotten over it, never found love again. Collier’s Creek is full of people desperate to matchmake.

If I’ve heard the tale of Sheriff Morgan and Deputy Ben once, I’d heard it a dozen times. It’s a Hallmark story that will never be made. I think the age gap thing is an issue for some. But not in Collier’s Creek. I once heard an out-of-towner make a crack about the deputy’s daddy issues in the bar. I swear Geraldine was ready to set Barky on him. Barky would have done it too. He and the sheriff are tight. We’ve all seen the photos of them asleep on the sofa together, no matter how much the sheriff denies it.

I pick up my phone from beside me on the couch. I look at Dean’s number. I put my phone down.

I pick it up again. Finally I huff and tap the number.

“Hello?” He sounds wary.

“I’m not Gloria.” I grin at the relieved sigh in my ear.

“Thank goodness. Wait, you received a call too?”

“I did.”

“But your ankle…you can’t play Santa if you can’t walk.” Dean sounds outraged on my behalf.

I chuckle. “I’d be Santa Crutch.”

“The kids would be confused.”

“I think they know it’s a made-up thing, but pretend to believe to keep the parents happy.”

“That’s very cynical,” Dean points out.

“Maybe.” I think about it for a moment. “I think I was one of those kids. My parents insisted we play along with the game.”

“Me too if I’m honest. Danny sat me down and told me the truth when I was seven.”

“The mayor told you Santa doesn’t exist?”

“Do I have to remind you he wasn’t the mayor then?” Dean sounded amused.

I wave my arm to Ariel’s annoyance, even though he can’t see me. “They were all born as mayor and sheriff and doctor, etc.”

“So you were born as a bartender?”

“Yes, yes I was.”

“You love your job, don’t you?”

Dean sounds kind of bemused, as if he can’t understand why anyone would want to be a bartender. It’s an attitude I’m used to, so I try not to bristle too much.

“I like dealing with the public.”

“So do I, I guess, although most of mine are old or young. They like their naps.”

“I love my naps,” I admit.

“I won’t hold it against you.” There’s a long silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Then he says, “Why did you call me?”

Why did I call him? I scramble to remember. “I heard you were now Santa.”

“My brother insists I take over.” Now he doesn’t sound amused. Now he sounds like he’s hurting, and my heart aches for him.

“Dean, you don’t have to do this. There are plenty of other guys who can take over.”

“I know.”

“You want to do this? I thought…” I trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

He sighs. “You thought?”

“You were so adamant about not liking Christmas.”

“Someone told you about Marty.”

“They did.” I’m not going to lie to him. He deserves better than that, and I’m not the kind of guy who can keep secrets. “Aunt Hebe told me.”

“It was a long time ago. I should be over it.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Either, both. Okay, it is a long time ago, but there’s no age limit on mourning someone. Look at Queen Victoria.”

Silence.

“Did you…just say…Queen Victoria?”

“She was the only one I could think of on the spur of the moment. I mean, there’s my Great Nanna Penelope, but you wouldn’t know her.”

“I don’t know Queen Victoria either. I’m not that old,” Dean says with an edge to his voice.

Great, now I’ve offended the guy by implying he’s ancient.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling raw after Gloria’s call and then my brother’s visit.”

“You should tell them both to fuck off,” I say without thinking.

“I did. Gloria listened, kinda, Danny didn’t. He’s a hard man to say no to.”

“Are you going to play Santa?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Danny will let it go.”

He sounds so defeated that I want to get in my car, drive over to his house, and hold him tight.

“Hey, do you want to come over?” I offer on impulse.

There’s a hesitation, and I wait for him to say no, but he says, “I’ve got to go to the Tree Lighting Ceremony. Danny asked me to.”

“Asked or insisted?”

“It’s expected,” he says. “Family support is important to Danny.”

I make a noncommittal noise. I know what small towns are like.

“Danny’s a good man.” Dean can apparently read minds from a distance.

“But is he a good brother?”

“He is.” He pauses for a moment. “He is a good brother. He just thinks I need to start living again.”

I’m not going to throw an old British queen at him again. “Get over here and keep me company before I go up the wall.”

“It’s only been one day,” he says, clearly amused.

“That’s long enough.”

“Are you always on the go?”

“You know what it’s like at Randy’s. There’s never a dull moment.”

That ten-thousand-steps-a-day thing? I blow through that in the first half of my shift.

“I’ll come over. Do you need food?”

“I’ve got frozen burgers and fries, that’s all.”

“I’ll bring a late lunch unless you’ve eaten. I can swing by somewhere and pick up food. I need to get to the ceremony by five. I haven’t been up long,” he confesses.

“Me neither. I went back to sleep after Gloria’s call.”

“So did I.”

There’s that moment of comfortable silence again before he says, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Ariel will be pleased to see you,” I say.

“I hope she’s not the only one,” he says lightly, but I hear something else in his voice. Hope, maybe?

“I want to see you too, especially if you’re bringing food. Drive safely. Did it snow again?”

“Not that much,” he says with the supreme indifference of someone used to snowy winters. “See you later.”

Snow charms me or scares me, depending on whether I’m inside or driving. Right now, sitting in the warm, it’s beautiful outside. All shiny and sparkly.

“We’re in the right place to be,” I tell Ariel. She chirrups her agreement and stretches, showing me her danger mittens before she relaxes again, burying her small face against my belly and purring herself to sleep.

I sit back and wait for Dean to arrive. It’ll be a while. I close my eyes and have a nap. I wish I could purr too.