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I wanna steer clear of it. I’m not exactly a party planner. I live in the woods for a reason. But Maple waves me over and reintroduces me to the people who live around her.
“Good to meet you again,” I say stiffly.
“I hear you are helping Maple get her place fixed up. Guess there has been a lapse in maintenance these last few years,” a woman named Carol says.
“Right,” Maple claps her hands together. “Speaking of, I have somethings I need to talk to Filson about back at the house. We’ll catch up later,” she says, leading me away by the elbow.
“What about him, Maple?” another woman says. “He’d fit the part better than Asher Martin ever would have.”
“Oh, no, Filson would never agree,” she says. “We’ll figure something out.”
As we walk to the back of the house, I find myself frowning. “What was that about?” I ask once we’re inside the cozy kitchen.
“Nothing,” Maple says. “You’re already doing enough.” She reaches for a pad of paper on the kitchen table — the very one we sat at as little kids, drinking milk and tea, dunking our cookies and laughing. “This is the list of things I need to have done to the house.”
“Look,” I say, ignoring the list. “I volunteered,” I remind her. “I want to be here.”
She snaps her eyes to mine. “Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“You couldn’t seem to leave fast enough the other night.”
“My dog needed dinner, Maple.”
“Or the night before,” she presses.
“If I remember correctly, it was you who bolted for the shower, not me.”
“I only did that because you seemed to regret what we shared.”
Her words cut through the kitchen and we’re both left speechless. How does one say everything at once without scaring someone away?
“I don’t regret anything we shared. I only regret pulling back as I did. You deserve better, Maple.”
She studies me for a long moment. “Filson, why did you drop out of high school?”
My eyes widen. “Wasn’t expecting that question.”
“My Granny had her speculations. That your dad was too drunk to go to the construction sites and that you picked up his tool belt to pay the bills.”
I run a hand over my beard. “Sounds about right.”
“But why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you—”
“You really want to do this, Maple? I know I messed up a hundred times. Do you just want to keep driving that point home?”
She isn’t hurt. She’s angry. “I’m not driving anything anywhere, Filson. I’m trying to understand why it’s so hard for you to let anyone in. To let me in.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I’ve missed you. For ten years I’ve missed you. You left school and left me behind.”
“We were hardly two peas in a pod, Maple. You had your cheerleading friends and the jocks who wanted to carry your books. I had a rusted-out Chevy and failing grades. You did fine without me.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get it, do you? I didn’t want any of them, Filson. I just wanted you.”
“I’m not that same boy anymore, Maple.”
She steps toward me, eyes ablaze and full of yearning. “I know. Now you’re a man. So, let me ask you this, Filson Barre, what do you want now?”
“You,” I tell her plainly. Her eyes sparkle with hope and pride blossoms in my chest — I made her feel good and that is the kind of feeling I’d love to bottle up, to keep in a flask in my jacket pocket so I’d always have it on the ready. “But I don’t want it to be like the other night.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“I want to give us a real chance, Maple St. Claire. That means we go slow. One date at a time.”
“You’re asking me on a date?” Her cheeks turn pink and she breaks into a smile.
“I am. Tonight, you and me. Let’s try and do this for real.”
“Okay. The sounds really nice.”
“I know you think I’m a grinch but let me try to be a gentleman.”’
She hands me the notepad. “Then I guess we should both get to work.”
“Why are you doing all this work this time of year? It’s not exactly conducive to cleaning out the gutters.”
“I know. Most of everything is indoors.” She points to the list in her hand. Leaky faucet, recaulking a shower, pantry doorknob needs to be replaced.
“This won’t take me long.”
“Good,” she says, exhaling. “The sooner the better.”
“Why are you so intent on fixing the house up? Aren’t the holidays a busy enough time already?”
She just grabs her purse and coat. “I’m not asking you why Asher Martin was at your house and you don’t need to ask me about this, okay?”
“Fine,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. To be honest, I don’t care what her motivation is because it’s giving me an excuse to get close to her. “But you better be here at six for our date.”
