Page 21 of Goode Tidings

I'm watching you wait for my next message. It's adorable.

My head snaps up. She waves from the porch.

Nevermind. There's no way I'm traipsing around Snowflake with her. She's too friendly. Too chatty. She'll make friends with people and try to make me make friends with them, too.

I huff, grumbling something unintelligible as I stomp around the office and let myself in the front door. The skunk smell has thinned out, leaving a faint scent behind.

Just before I close the door, I hear the tail end of laughter.

Eden is laughing at me. Again. Cool.

I've never met a woman so comfortable delighting in another person's misfortune. Truly. She looks sweet, but that woman? She's sunshine, and no filter.

CHAPTER 10

Eden

Despite Oliver's griping that grows whinier as the day continues, I drag him all over the quaint town of Snowflake. If every small town has its own distinct personality, Snowflake's is if we could exist without tourists, we would. Hollywood sold me the lie that all small towns are hyper-friendly, smiles and open arms, and a mayor with an aw, shucks smile.

While Snowflake isn't exactly ungracious, it's not welcoming us on Main Street with a legion of baton twirlers in sequined leotards and matching tiny skirts belting out show tunes. There are head nods and standard smiles, niceties like holding the door open and saying please and thank you, but I would've liked to make a best friend on day one. That's looking less and less likely with every store we pop into.

The cashier at the home goods store where I bought new bath towels (no offense to Callum, but I thought he'd appreciate me keeping a set separate from his) didn't appear to believe me when I told her we were staying on Lake Circle for the next year.

"Which cabin?" she'd asked, eyebrows raised dubiously. I knew answering that question honestly might create waves for Callum, but what was I supposed to do—lie? I guess I could have, but with plans to stay here for the next year, that seemed foolish. I told the truth, and earned a, "Sure you are, honey."

Something similar happened at the next three stores we went to. Only a moment ago, the waitress, Flo, at the diner we've stopped at for lunch went so far as to ask if I was certain I had the right address of the place where we're staying.

I assured her I did.

What is it about Callum's name that's making people squint their eyes at me in disbelief? Ok, yes, he's grumpy. But he's not mean. He's actually quite nice, even though he frowns while doing it.

"Mom?" Oliver finishes chewing a big bite of his triple-decker BLT. "This town doesn't seem very friendly."

"I don't think it's the town," I say, glancing at Flo as she leans her forearms on the counter with all the red-leather topped stools. Her gaze skitters away when our eyes meet. "I think we've presented them with a bit of a conundrum."

"How's that?" Oliver asks, stuffing too many fries in his mouth.

"If I had to guess, Oliver, I would say they are trying to figure out how it is we are staying in the same place as Callum." They haven't even asked if we're related to him, or why we're staying there. They are really, truly baffled.

"Here's a cool idea. You could tell them the truth and then they won't stare at us like that." Oliver sucks the last of his soda through his straw, and somehow the sound conveys his irritation. "I will definitely be telling the truth when I get to school." His tone says and don't try to tell me otherwise.

How can I expect Oliver to finesse the truth, when I can hardly comprehend it myself? "I would never ask you to lie, but maybe you can do Callum a favor and say he's staying in the casita behind the cabin?" I raise my eyebrows and take a bite of my turkey sandwich.

"Mom, I'm sure nobody here calls it a casita like they do in Phoenix."

That's fair. Cabins probably don't have casitas. But we can't call it the Shed House Hut Office Thing. "Then find the right word, and call it that."

Oliver pulls on a thin slice of tomato sliding from his sandwich and tosses it in his mouth. "I feel bad for the guy, but I don't get why we are protecting him."

I rotate my empty coffee cup between my palms. The brew here is fine, but there's a coffee shop at the end of Main Street I'm looking forward to trying. "I don't know if I'm protecting Callum, but I'm managing things until I understand more about him and why he was at the cabin in the first place."

"Have you talked to Dad?"

"I tried calling him this morning but he didn't answer. I looked it up, and he's fourteen hours ahead and he's⁠—"

"Yeah, I know. He's busy with the woman he met online." Oliver pushes his plate away and flops back into the booth.

Anger at Justin flashes across my chest, alongside sadness for my son. I push it away, always careful not to reveal too much of how I feel toward Justin in front of Oliver. I want to make sure Oliver's emotions are his own, and that he's never taking on mine. "It sounds like you're not feeling so fine with everything after all?" Oliver had acted unperturbed by his dad's announcement. I didn't buy his bluff, of course, because who wouldn't feel at least twenty different emotions about their dad moving across the globe for a woman he'd never met in person? But in a situation like this, treading lightly goes from being a pithy saying to a means of survival. I knew better than to push when Oliver claimed he was fine. What's most important is being there for him when he realizes he is not fine after all.