Chapter Five

Conrad

The drive was gorgeous, something I hadn’t expected. The change of scenery as we left the city and eventually turned down an old highway was something to behold. Natalie loved it too, talking about all the animals she was going to meet while we were there, especially the bears. I wasn’t sure what had her so hyperfocused on bear dancing lately—my guess was that it was in a book or a movie.

By the time we were on our last stretch, she was sound asleep. I was honestly surprised she made it that long. It was not an easy thing to do—sitting in a car for hours on end. Sure, we stopped for gas and food, but I didn’t love the idea of getting there too late in the day.

When we arrived, the key was exactly where the owner said it would be—on the windowsill. What a different world this was. There was absolutely no way I would leave my key anywhere outside—not in one of those little fake rocks in the garden, not under a flowerpot, and definitely not just sitting there on the windowsill where anyone could see it.

For my swap, the person had to go to my neighbor’s house, show ID, and pick up the key. I owed Ruth for taking on that responsibility at the last minute. She said it was fair because I let her dog out one time, and I did—five years ago.

Natalie and I had already decided that we were going to find her something as a thank-you present during our trip. Of course, at the time, I thought we would be nearer a village. We weren’t. We were in the middle of nowhere. Good thing we brought our own food. The only thing we passed even close to “nearby” was a motel that might as well have a we’re haunted sign up. There probably weren’t any ghosts, but there weren’t any upgrades either.

As much as I loved the convenience of living in the city, I could see why it would be relaxing to be out here—not having to worry about neighbors having loud parties, someone wandering off the street and into your house, people knocking on your door trying to sell you internet.

Although, based on the lack of housing around here, they probably had to worry about critters. Natalie talked about bears nonstop the last half hour of the drive. She loved them. But bears weren’t the only things around here. There were probably foxes, wolves, and who knew what else. A shiver ran through me. Please don’t let there be snakes.

I wasn’t scared of most wildlife, snakes and alligators the most notable exceptions, but I didn’t love Natalie’s lack of trepidation when it came to them. She would walk up to any creature she thought was cute.

We had a long talk in the car about not approaching bears—especially cubs—not trying to get a fox to come see her, and definitely not calling, “Here, skunky, skunky,” just because the smelly critters looked like cats. She agreed but told me very firmly that if the fairies came, she was going to chat them up.

I told her that was fine—as long as she ignored the bears.

We had brought a lot more than I realized, and it took a while to get everything out of the car and where it belonged. I had Natalie’s presents hidden in my suitcase, along with some games, coloring books, and a read-aloud I planned to share with her. It wasn’t like there was TV reception here for her to watch her favorite shows.

She was very into Frosty the Snowman —it was her favorite. One winter, she always wore two scarves, sure the one she got at the local thrift store was a magical one and she’d be able to make a new friend out of snow. It had been adorable. But no Frosty this year.

Instead, we were going to have an old-fashioned Christmas. It was going to be great.

There were some flurries, and Natalie wanted to go out and play. I gave her far more instructions than she probably needed, helped her bundle up, and we went outside. The flurries were gone, in their place huge flakes of snow already accumulating on the ground. It was warmer than it looked but still cold

“I’m going to dance!” She twirled.

“That’s fine, but remember what I said.”

“No going past the tree line and no playing with bears unless fairies are there to protect me.” I conceded the last part because if fairies were real and showed up with a bear, there were a lot more things to worry about than the bear.

That’s when the sole of my boot started to flap. I’d known for a while it was time for new, but I’d been holding off for February when they’d go on sale. It looked like I’d waited a little too long and because I’d been trying not to pack too much, I didn’t have any spares.

“Hey, Natalie, look at Daddy’s foot!” I picked it up and let the sole flap down. “I need to go inside and see if they have any duct tape to fix it.”

“Can I come with you and meet them? I have questions like, why do ducks have tape?”

I wasn’t sure if she was being silly or serious and decided to treat it as the latter.

“It’s duct with a T not a K, but they do sound the same. You know, the silver tape your father used to fix everything.”

She nodded.

“Maybe it’ll keep my boots together.”

“Okay, Daddy, but don’t worry! I won’t go past the tree line. I promise. I need to make snow angels—lots and lots of snow angels. Shhh, don’t tell, but they’re actually snow fairies.”

Not that there was anyone to tell.

“That way, when the fairies come, they’ll see them and know this is a place to play. And then, the bears are gonna frolic. You’ll see.”

“Frolic? That’s a pretty big word.”

“Mrs. Davis taught it to me,” she said proudly, straightening her shoulders. “Now, go fix your boot because I want you to make some angels too!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I went inside, figuring every junk drawer had duct tape. Sure enough. The last thing I wanted to do was travel down the mountain to find a store. Luckily, I found some tape easily. I wrapped it around my boot a few times. If I wasn’t too hard on them, the fix should last through the vacation—hopefully. If not, there was more tape.

As I put the roll back, I got grease on my fingers from a random spring in the drawer. Junk drawers were like that, you never knew what was in them.

I turned on the water, and it went from tepid to cold to freezing. I kept waiting for it to warm up, but it never did. The water was so cold my hands were shaking by the time they were clean. I looked under the sink to see if there was one of those localized hot water heaters to turn on. Nothing.

I went to what I thought was the furnace room, but all I found were spare coats. I wasn’t sure why I was even bothering. Looking at a furnace was the equivalent of me looking under my hood when my car broke down or inside my computer if it wouldn’t turn on. I’d have no idea what I was even seeing. Eventually, I did find the furnace, though, tried all the obvious things, and I heard an alarming noise, one that told me to stop and get help.

The instructions the owner left on the counter mentioned Bert, the owner’s brother who lived on the far side of the property in another house. He was the one to contact for help.

It looked like we were meeting someone new today—or, more accurately, interrupting someone who probably wouldn’t be thrilled about us bothering him during the holiday. Especially if he had a family. Oh well. Water this cold could lead to a burst pipe, and that was significantly worse than getting a call while chilling with your family. At least, that’s how I justified it in my head.

“That’s three.” I let out a long breath, “First, there were no swaps where we wanted to go, then, my boots broke, and now, there’s no hot water.” If bad things came in threes, I hoped that meant we were done.

Something caught my eye outside the window. There was a man talking to Natalie.

I ran outside quickly, only to discover it was Bert—not a random stranger like I’d originally feared.

But the strange thing was, I wasn’t scared of him, since I stepped outside. Not even before I found out who he was.

That was odd for me. I’m always super apprehensive around strangers—or even adults I know—when Natalie was involved. Unless it’s someone I really trust, I’m always on guard. But with him, there wasn’t a stitch of worry. It was unsettling in its own way.

“Bears do frolic,” Natalie declared. “Mrs. Davis says so.”

“Mrs. Davis, huh?” He smiled down at her. “She must be pretty smart.”

“She is!” Natalie adored her teacher.

It was sweet seeing them interact like that. I kept waiting for my walls to go up, but they didn’t, and the closer I got to him, the more they fell straight into the basement.

I’d say it was because he was hot—which objectively he was. But it wasn’t that. There was just something safe and comforting about him.

“We’re having a problem with the hot water. I was hoping you could help. I think there’s a switch or something I’m missing.”

Bert nodded. “Let’s take a look.”

I asked Natalie to stay in the clearing and promised I’d be right back. She ended up coming inside with us anyway, saying she was cold. Bert and I went inside. I explained how I’d checked under the sink, hoping for one of those small water heaters, but there wasn’t one.

“I’m going to color,” Natalie announced. Worked for me. At least in here she wasn’t going to try and be a wild-animal whisperer.

“Is that duct tape on your boot?” Bert asked.

“Yeah, it broke. It’s your brother’s tape, but I’ll replace it.”

“No need. My brother owes me, and I can put duct tape against his tab.”

It was such a little thing, but somehow it felt like a huge-ass hug. What was it about this man?

“Thanks.”