AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I had thrown a dart at the map back in Atlanta, I had been shocked when it hit this tiny town in Michigan. A part of me, a big part, had wanted to redo it, but that was against the rules. I had gone online and started looking for spaces to rent and apartments, and I was surprised to see that Honey Peak, while small, was actually pretty nice.
With the mountains and all of the cabins, it reminded me of a scene out of some old western movie. The snow had looked beautiful in all of the pictures, gently landing on rooftops or clinging to the tops of the mountains, but now that I’m here, the charm is starting to wear off.
The apartment that I found was small and came furnished already, so I was able to sell most of our stuff back in Atlanta. The bedroom, bathroom, and living room are all super small, but it has a kitchen and that’s all I need in life.
The space that I rented is directly below me. I had been surprised when I found the old bakery up for sale. Sure, it needed a fresh coat of paint, a new oven, and a new industrial mixer, but the display cases and floors were in perfect condition.
I had jumped on it, putting a huge dent in the savings account but feeling like it was the right step.
I check my phone, groaning when I see that the temperature today is going to be around ten degrees all day. I decide that I’m going to have to break down and go buy a better coat and pair of boots.
I can see my car down below, half-buried under the new snow, and I know that it will take me at least fifteen minutes to brush the snow off and defrost it. At least I’m not going far.
I smile as I let the curtain drop and head into the kitchen, thinking that this day calls for something sweet.
TWO
Elijah
I let out a groan when I see Patrick’s truck pull up in front of the store. I was about to close down the Grove Trading Post and head home, but it looks like Patrick is here for his daily visit.
The guy is new to town and while everyone else in Honey Peak tends to leave me alone and in peace, Patrick never got that memo. He showed up in town a few months ago with his nephew Brennan in tow. They had wandered into my shop on their first day and I had helped them find some hiking boots and camping gear. I had pointed them downtown to a spot for lunch and had thought that would be the end of it, but they came back the next day, and then the next. Somewhere along the way, we became friends.
The bell on the door tinkles loudly as the door blows shut after them. It’s starting to snow harder and I look around the shop, deciding that I can finish stocking those boots tomorrow. I’ll just say hi to Brennan and sneak him his Hershey Hug before I usher them outside. We should all be getting home before the storm gets much worse.
Growing up in Honey Peak, you get used to reading the skies and knowing when you’re going to get dumped on with snow. It snowed some last night but it’s even darker tonight and I have a feeling that we’re going to get more than the two feet we did last night.
For the first time since they retired and moved down to Florida, I envy my parents. They grew up in Honey Peak, but after they passed the shop down to me, they wanted to make a change. I don’t blame them for wanting to escape the cold and all of the snow.
“Hey, little man,” I call out as Brennan barrels down the aisle toward the front counter.
“Eli!” he yells excitedly as he hurries around the counter and wraps his tiny arms around my legs.
At six-foot-seven, I tower over everyone. I’m used to having to duck to enter rooms and feeling like a freak when I stand next to people, but Patrick and Brennan have never made me feel self-conscious. Brennan thinks I’m a badass because of my height. Maybe that’s why we’ve always gotten along.
“Hey, Eli,” Patrick says with an easy smile as he joins us at the front counter.
“What are you two doing out in this mess?” I ask as the wind howls outside.
“We had to come see our best friend. Wanted to make sure that you didn’t need anything from the store. We’re headed there before we head home,” Patrick answers as I grab the candy jar out from beneath the counter and hold it out to Brennan.
The little boy gives me a toothy grin as he shoves his hand into the jar.
“I’m good. I’ve got some leftovers at home that I’m going to heat up tonight. I can run and grab some more stuff tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” Patrick asks and I nod.
“Get out of here before the roads close,” I order and Brennan gives me another quick hug before he hurries out from behind the counter.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Patrick says with that same easy-going grin that never seems to leave his lips as they turn and head back out into the storm.
I trail after them, intending to flip the lock, turn off the lights, and head out the back, but before I can get there, the door swings open, letting in a cold breeze, a few flurries, and a shivering woman.
“Hey! Y’all are still open, right? I’ll be two minutes. I just need a new coat and maybe some boots,” she says, her thin coat dusted in snow.
Her accent is decidedly southern and sounds so out of place here in rural Michigan. I watch as she brushes off her tennis shoes on the mat.
“I’ll say,” I grunt out, scowling at the girl’s less than ideal winter wear.
