AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s amazing, and don’t worry. I wasn’t thinking that. I’m thrilled to be here.”
“This upcoming year is going to be great. And hey, if you’re hired and we run out of energy, Brooke has enough for all of us. But before we start the year, we have to enjoy what’s left of summer,” she says with a wink. I can already tell I like this girl. “Let’s go find Christine, our principal. Have you met?”
“I did, briefly, when I stopped by a few weeks ago. She seems nice, certainly welcoming.”
“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Madison leaves me standing under the tent. I watch her walk up to Mrs. Smith. They engage in a short conversation and then both turn their heads to look at me. Madison waves me over.
“Solia! I’m so glad you came.”
“Thanks so much for having me. This is great!”
Madison reaches for my hand and squeezes it, leaving me alone with the principal.
“So, I looked over your résumé, called a few references, and it looks as though you may be the perfect fit. Are you interested in coming in for an interview for the third-grade position?”
“Yes, oh my goodness, yes. That would be amazing. Thank you.” I reach to shake her hand, confident my excitement is felt on her end.
“HR will schedule it, and I have a folder from them on my desk. Have fun. Go meet the staff.”
Every teacher is as nice as the next. My nerves calm as the meet-up progresses—this school would be a perfect fit. The only potential hiccup would be working with Jackson’s sister. Being in a small town, the odds are good I’d bump into a relative or two, but it’s still awkward to be colleagues with one. I’m not sure how close she and her brother are, but I’m thankful she doesn’t mention Jackson and me. It’s hard enough not thinking about him every minute of the day, but working with her will be a constant reminder. I could always ask her how he’s doing, and stopping myself will be torture. I’ll have to work on separating them in my mind.
When the event draws to a close, I’m ready for a nap and know I’ll forget half the names I’ve just learned. I make it a point to say goodbye to Shannon, Brooke, and Madison and exchange numbers with all three. We discuss the possibility of getting together again before the end of summer. I may not have Jackson, but a few friends are a step forward.
* * *
After the fun of the teacher meet-up yesterday, I received a call about an interview for later this week. Today I’m determined to keep busy and not think of Jackson. I remind myself that our scheduled meeting is about the wind farm, not us. Regardless, all I can concentrate on is what we started together, and my body and soul ache for him.
The morning is beautiful, a comfortable eighty degrees, so I go for a paddle around the lake. Weekdays are where it’s at—quiet, undisturbed, and peaceful. The water is perfectly still, providing a mirror for Mother Nature. As I glide along the shore, a pair of loons congregate to catch fish for their morning meal. Loons are very territorial, so each lake, unless exceptionally large, is home to only one pair of loons. These must be ours. I don’t blame them. This lake is too beautiful to share.
I stop and glimpse at the lakeside homes. Over the years, many owners have remodeled and added on, reminding me of the mansions in Newport, Rhode Island, lining Bellevue Avenue. Years ago, most lake homes were similar to my family’s quaint cabin, but now the boat houses are comparable to the cabin.
Because of this, the price of homes on Newfound Lake has skyrocketed. For those of us who love a small town and low commercialism, the less land for sale around Meriden, the better. Keeping the population stable allows for gradual change, if any. I see very few For Sale signs around the lake.
The midmorning sun warms my skin. I place my paddle under the bungee cord at the front of my board and lie back, taking a moment for myself. I allow my paddleboard to drift slightly with the calm breeze. I watch as the clouds pass overhead toward the peaks in the distance. And of course, my thoughts drift back to Jackson, wishing I could share this moment with him today, tomorrow, and every day going forward.
No matter how hard I try to push him out of my mind, he resurfaces. Every lakeside fantasy scrolls on a nonstop feed. It would be a dream to have him sitting across from me, floating on the water with my legs wrapped around his waist. I want his strong, muscular hands to rake my back with my chest pressed against him, to look into his eyes and tell him how badly he needs to stay. I can help him heal and believe in love again.
To ignore everything he told me would be insensitive, but having him to myself for three weeks was better than nothing. This is the opposite of what my head tells me, but my heart is set on him.
Receiving Jackson’s text yesterday knocked me off my feet, and my excitement is palpable. I’ve typed and deleted countless texts to him since he told me where he stood on things. Even though his circumstances are the same, the fact he texted me means he wants to see me, and no matter the reason, I’ll take it.
Every physical need I have for Jackson is balanced with an emotional one. No man has ever put my needs first. Reaching out to help save my property when he has no obligation to do so tells me he’s a genuine guy, not an ass like the other men I’ve had the displeasure of experiencing.
But I want to know him inside and out. We could be stronger together than apart. However, I’m not a fool. I know full well that no matter how badly I long for Jackson, he is not mine. I’ll embrace any time I can get with him, so if that means seeing him in a parking lot to discuss wind turbines, so be it.
A sliver of hope sits at the bottom of my heart, holding on to the chance he’ll reconsider, somehow, some way. It’s awful to admit, but if he thinks for a second that I won’t try to make him stay, he’s mistaken. I plan to run a few errands and leave enough time to choose the right outfit for what I hope isn’t the last time I see Jackson.
Storing the board in my garage takes a little maneuvering, and my clothes stick to my skin, making the task more difficult. I love my outdoor shower, but it would be nice to have a working showerhead that doesn’t drip like a leaky hose, so I head into town to grab a few items. Something slightly more powerful and luxurious for my outdoor oasis would be nice.
Raubuchon’s is the place to go when you need random stuff—they have everything from toilet paper to sheetrock. There aren’t any large chain stores around this area, only homegrown businesses. Now that I have a shot at a predictable income, I select a pretty soap dish, shower gel, and my favorite shampoo and conditioner. Passing by the lumber aisle, I mentally add building some sort of shelving unit to keep my towels dry.
Maybe I can even put up an outdoor speaker. Then I may never get out.
If everything works out with this teaching position, I’ll be one step closer to keeping the cabin at the end of the year—and keeping my mother’s nagging at bay.
Despite beginning to understand the severity of this wind farm issue, I still haven’t told my parents about the Green Breeze letter. I promise myself that I’ll listen to the information Jackson has to share and let them know. While this may be my cabin after our deal expires, my parents are still the legal owners. They have the right to know; I’m stunned they don’t already. Small-town news travels similar to wildfire, and while they may not visit much anymore, they still have a connection to some of Meriden’s residents.
“Hey, Solia!”
