A Christmas Delight

4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Joel

I slam the door behind me and shake the snow off my boots, then head toward the living room window, which gives me a view of the house next to mine. I lift the curtain just a bit and watch. The kitchen light turns on, and I see my new neighbor enter, putting her box down.

She disappears from view, then comes back out of her house a few seconds later. I drop the curtain and take a step back. For a moment, I have the irrational fear that she’ll come knocking here again, but nothing happens. Why would she come back here anyway? I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m nuts. Rude at best. Frightening at worst.

I move to the kitchen window that looks over the street. The young woman is outside, shoveling the snow off her car. It looks like it has turned into ice already. She should have done that this morning, it would have been much easier. Now she’s stuck doing it in the dark when it’s twice as hard. And when she’s done, she’ll have her side of the driveway to take care of.

A pang of guilt stings me. I did my side of the driveway this morning. Should I have done both sides? No. It’s not my job. If I start doing that, it’ll be taken for granted.

My phone rings in my pocket, and I take it out. “What.”

“So warm, as usual,” Brent says. “It’s your weekly reminder.”

“For what?”

“To tell you that we’re cutting trees tomorrow and bringing them back to Dad’s shop.”

“I don’t need a reminder.”

“You just asked what the reminder was for, idiot.”

“Jerk.”

Brent laughs, unimpressed by my crappy mood, as always. “I heard about what happened today.”

“Hm.” I’m half listening, for some reason still watching my new neighbor struggling to get the hardened snow off her car.

“People will think you’re a lunatic if you keep acting this way in public.”

“It was Finn’s fault. That prick nearly ran into me.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“Who told you anyway?”

“Mrs. Conor. She was at that new donut shop when it happened. She said the owners weren’t too happy to see you come in afterward. You freaked them out a bit.”

My heart sinks, and I turn away from the window. No wonder that young woman looked at me with those frightened eyes, both at the shop, and then a few minutes earlier when she tried to open my door by mistake. “Well, I guess I won’t go back there anymore.”

Brent laughs. “Where are you gonna get your coffee fix? At Finn’s?”

“I’ll make it at home. It’ll save me some money.”

“That’s just a good excuse to be even more of a recluse.”

“I’m not a recluse.”

“Right.”

“I’m just… better on my own.”

Brent pauses a second. “That wasn’t always the case.”

“No. It wasn’t. But it’s better.”

“You can’t live your life like this, man. That’s not healthy.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brent sighs. “Go out there. Meet people. Take some risks.”

“Alright, goodnight.”

“Alright, bye. Idiot.”

“Jerk.”

I hang up the phone, but don’t move for a moment. I wish I could see life the way Brent does, but he didn’t go through what I did. He wasn’t betrayed and shattered like I was. If people think I’m a lunatic and a recluse, then good. It’ll keep them away.

The snow thickens outside, if that’s even possible, and I take another peek through the window. She’s done with her car. She turns to the driveway, her shoulders slumping at the sight of all the work waiting for her. Still, without waiting too long, she gets to work, still using that shovel of hers.

She’s gonna be there the whole evening at this pace. She might even mess up my side of the driveway. I have a snowblower. It’s not that I care, but it’ll go much faster that way. It has nothing to do with the fact that I want to be a good neighbor.

I grab my jacket and go through the door in the kitchen, which leads to the garage. I grab the snowblower and wheel it outside. The snow is unrelenting, but once the driveway’s clean, donut girl will at least be able to park her car on it before the snow builds up again.

She’s knee deep in the snow when she snaps her head up, startled by my presence.

“This will go a lot faster,” I say.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She trudges through the snow and looks the snowblower over. “Can you show me how it works? I’ve never used one before.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I can do it.”

I turn on the snowblower, drowning out her words, and get to work. I feel her gaze on me as I go. It makes me weirdly uncomfortable. Maybe because I know that I freaked her out this morning, and probably made myself look worse earlier. But, see? I’m helping. That might dampen her distaste for me.

I’m done in a matter of minutes.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” she says, and I don’t like that I want to smile.

I bite back on that smile. “Your shovel’s not big enough for a whole driveway. You need to get another one.”

She looks at the shovel in her hand, her smile falling off her face. No wonder why. I sound like an ass. “Will do.”

“Just try not to wait so long before getting that snow off. It just makes it harder.” And apparently, I can’t stop sounding condescending.

“Yeah, I wanted to, but it was our grand opening today at the donut shop. I left really early.” She pauses, and when I don’t say anything, she offers her hand. “I’m Maisie.”

Snow piles up in her wavy hair, and her green eyes glisten in the soft light from the porch. I’m mesmerized for a second, mostly by the fact that she’s still talking to me, smiling and waiting for me to shake her hand despite the way I’ve been acting.

Finally, I shake her hand. “Joel.”

“Thank you for your help. Free coffee for you next time you come to the Donut Delight. For helping me tonight.”

It feels undeserved. Helping was the least I could do, really. “That’s not necessary.”

“I insist.”

I nod. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.” She smiles wider, making my heart skip a beat, which I hate. “I have to go. I’m freezing. See you around.”

Nothing comes out of my mouth except for a stupid, “Yeah.”

Then Maisie’s on her way to her car, probably to move it to the driveway, and I go back inside my garage to put away the snowblower. We might have started off on the wrong foot, but she doesn’t seem to dislike me too much anymore.

Maybe I’ll claim that free coffee at some point.