Puppy Wishes & Candy Kisses (Kringle Falls #1)

6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

H e had been gone longer than he’d planned.

Michael maneuvered the snowmobile toward his house. The snow had momentarily stopped after dumping twelve inches on them since last night. However, the sky was still heavy with clouds. It was only three thirty in the afternoon, but it was already getting dark out.

He put the snowmobile away and headed for the house. As he approached the side door, he noticed the lights were on inside. In that instant, he imagined that his wife, Evelyn, was in the kitchen preparing dinner while his four-year-old son, Noah, was playing on the floor with his collection of toy trucks.

It’d been more than two years since the deadly car accident. In some ways it seemed like so much longer since he’d seen them, and yet in other ways, if he were to close his eyes, he could still hear his son’s voice asking him to take him sledding.

Michael gave himself a mental shake. As he crossed the driveway, he noticed a shoveled path that led to the front door. Candi had done that for him? The thoughtful gesture touched him.

He kept going until he reached the side door that led to the mudroom. He opened the door and barely stepped inside before he was surrounded by three dogs, who were barking at him.

“Quiet!” Candi stepped up behind them and clapped her hands to get their attention.

The two smaller dogs retreated to her side, but Tank moved toward Michael. It took a few quick and calculated moves to navigate around the dog, close the door, and not trip over Tank, who wouldn’t move.

For a moment, Michael couldn’t speak. He was caught off guard by having someone there to greet him. There was the aroma of tomatoes and oregano in the air. She’d made him dinner? He’d forgotten how good it felt to come home to someone.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he halted it. Candi wasn’t there for him. She was only in his house because her van had gone down over the embankment. End of story.

Tank stayed by his side as Michael took off his coat and boots. The pup looked so eager to please him that Michael found himself reaching out and petting the little guy. Tank’s tail rapidly swished back and forth.

When Michael moved toward the kitchen, he noticed another scent. It was much gentler. He inhaled deeper. It smelled like—like Christmas. He turned to Candi. It was then he noticed a smudge of something white on her cheek.

He wasn’t sure what to ask first. “What do I smell?”

“Do you like it?” Her gaze searched his.

He didn’t know how to respond. A few years ago, he would have told her he liked it a lot. Now, the cinnamon and clove scent reminded him of ghosts from Christmases past. Grief welled up in his chest, momentarily stealing his breath.

“What is it?” His voice came out gruffer than he intended.

The hopeful look on her face fell. “I’m sorry. I thought you might like it. It’s just some spices simmering on the stove. I... I’ll go get rid of it.” She turned and walked away.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. It was just the rush of memories that collided within him had stirred up the pain of loss. But none of that was her fault.

“Candi, wait.”

She stopped, but she didn’t turn around. He was once again hit with guilt. He didn’t want to take his problems out on her.

“I... I like it.” It was the truth. It was a pleasant scent. He just had to somehow disentangle the memories from the pleasant scent. Was that even possible?

Candi slowly turned to him. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her gaze searched his, as though she were trying to figure out if he was telling her the truth.

As the silence ensued, his gaze stumbled across the white smudge on her cheek. “What is on your cheek?”

Her left hand lifted to her face.

“No.” He shook his head. “The other side.”

Her hand moved and rubbed away the white smudge. “It’s probably flour.”

“Flour?” Now he was totally intrigued. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“I was.” She turned and walked toward the kitchen island.

He followed, curious to see what she’d been up to. When she moved aside, he saw the island was covered with decorated sugar cookies. There were stars, wreaths, and snowmen. They had been painstakingly painted with frosting. Attention had been paid to the details. And he was utterly impressed.

He walked closer to examine them. “You did all of this?” When she nodded, he said, “You’re very talented.”

“Would you like to be my taste-tester?”

He looked over the few dozen cookies, searching for a cookie that was flawed. It was not an easy task. And then at last he found a reindeer with a broken leg.

He picked it up. “I feel guilty for eating one.”

“Why?”

“Because you put so much effort into each of them.”

She shrugged. “I made them to be eaten. I just hope they taste as good as they look.”

He stared down at the cookie in his hand. “If they taste even half as good as they look, they’ll be amazing.” And then he took a bite of the cookie. All of its buttery goodness practically melted on his tongue. It was sweet but not too sweet. It was firm but not too firm.

Once again, he was swept up in the past. Evelyn wasn’t a baker. She would bring home cookies from the bakery and plate them like they were her own creations. The memories were like a sucker punch to the gut.

“You don’t like it?” The corners of Candi’s lips lowered into a frown as disappointment shone in her eyes.

“No.” Then he realized that had come out wrong. “I mean, no, I do like it.”

Her brows rose. “You do?”

He nodded. “This might be the best cookie I’ve ever eaten. Are you a professional baker?”

She shook her head. “I was a teacher. Elementary school.”

“Was?” The word slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

She nodded. “I was a kindergarten teacher until this past summer when the school board restructured things, and due to downsizing, my job was eliminated.”

He could hear the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry.” Tank pawed at his pant leg. “And now you’re working at an animal shelter?”

“Kind of. I’m doing substitute teaching while I look for a permanent position. I’ve been volunteering at the animal shelter for the past five or so years, but the owner is not in good health so he’s shutting the place down. These were the last three puppies that needed a home. I’m supposed to deliver them to a shelter in Maine, where they will hopefully find their forever home. I really need to contact the shelter. They’ll start to think I’m not coming.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it out to her. “You can use my phone.”

“Thank you. But I don’t remember the woman’s name or number. It’s all on my phone.” She looked expectantly at him. “Can we go get the van now?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “About that... I talked to Stan.” Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he said, “Stan owns the garage in town. He won’t be able to recover the van until tomorrow. At the earliest. No one wants to risk it in the dark.”

Candi glanced toward the window as though she didn’t realize it was dark out already. “Oh. Yes. Right.”

He could tell she was doing her best to hide her disappointment, but it was there in her big green eyes. “I’m sorry. I know people must be worried about you. Are you sure you don’t know anyone you can call?”

“I guess I shouldn’t rely on my cell phone so much. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I think I know my friend’s number.”

He retrieved his phone. “Here.”

He stepped out of the room to give her some privacy. In the living room, he found the pups all stretched out, taking a nap. They looked so innocent when they were sleeping, but he knew that would all change when they woke up, recharged and ready to play.

When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned. “Did you reach your friend?”

“Yes. She’s going to try and reach Bob for me.”

“That’s good. I’m sure he’s worried.”

She held the phone out to him. When he went to take it from her, their fingers brushed. It was as though static electricity arced between them. For a moment, neither of them moved. And then the tingle pulsed up his arm and settled in his chest, making his heart beat faster.

He pulled his hand away but not before his gaze momentarily strayed to her rosy lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

The thought startled him. He turned away, hoping she didn’t notice the direction his thoughts had taken. It felt as the past and present were crashing in on him, pulling him in two different directions. For so long, he’d clung to the past like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver, but now he felt himself being drawn to the present. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over him.

“Are you hungry?” Her voice drew him from his troubled thoughts.

Grateful that she hadn’t called him out on staring at her lips, he turned to her and said, “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Good. Because I made you dinner.”

He followed her back into the kitchen. She opened the oven and pulled out the still-warm casserole. She placed it on a couple of hot pads on the island. “I hope you like this.”

He moved closer and inhaled. “I don’t know what it is, but it smells delicious.”

A smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “I’ll get you a plate.”

He was touched. Michael couldn’t remember the last time someone had prepared him a meal—other than the numerous casseroles the whole town had gotten together to send over when his family died. His freezer had been full for the longest time. Did they have any idea how long it took one person to eat that much food?

And to make matters worse, he hadn’t had any appetite for the longest time. He lost so much weight in those first few months that if it weren’t for a belt, his pants never would have stayed up. He never thought he’d be able to crawl back from that dark place.

It had been a matter of getting through one hour at a time and then one day at a time. There wasn’t one particular point where suddenly his life was right again, because that never happened. It never would.

He’d just very slowly learned how to live with the giant gaping cracks in his heart. He didn’t think they would ever heal. And in some ways, he didn’t want them to. They were a link back to Evelyn and Noah.

Still, having Candi and the dogs there was a nice distraction. And that realization surprised him. Part of him felt guilty for enjoying another woman’s company. And the other part of him was starving for the companionship—for a moment to feel…well, to feel normal or at least as close to it as he could get.

Michael inhaled the aroma of oregano, basil, and tomatoes. Whatever Candi had prepared for dinner was making his mouth water in anticipation.

Beep.

He knew that sound. He turned to Candi. “Do you have something in the dryer?”

Her eyes widened with worry. “I do. I’m sorry. I should have asked before using it.”

“No. It’s fine. When I left you that note and told you to feel at home, I meant it.”

“Thanks. You’ve been so generous. I’ll just go grab the clothes so they don’t wrinkle.” She rushed off to the laundry room, which was situated just off the kitchen.

Realizing he had a stack of dirty clothes that he needed to run through the wash, he followed her. “I just need to do a load.” He glanced to the bin where he kept his dirty clothes, but it was empty. How could that be? And then he glanced over at Candi as she pulled a pair of his jeans from the dryer. “You washed my clothes?”

She shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do. You know, since you’ve been so nice to me and the three musketeers.”

He took the jeans from her. “I’ll fold them.”

She looked hesitant. “I can do it.”

“No. They’re my clothes, I’ll do it.” He knew he was being ridiculous. Lots of people would be excited to have someone come in and do so much for them.

But it felt too cozy for him. The last woman to fold his clothes had been Evelyn. He just wasn’t ready for someone else to fill that role—even if it was just a friendly gesture.

Candi kept reminding him of how things used to be. She showed him how easy it would be to move on—if he would just let himself. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let go of the past like Evelyn and Noah never existed.

Being around Candi reminded him that there was still life to live—his life to live. But was he ready for that? The question niggled at the back of his mind as he folded the rest of his clothes.

Afterward, Michael entered the kitchen to find Candi washing dishes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made a big deal out of the laundry. I… I overreacted.”

She turned to him. Her questioning gaze met his, but she remained quiet.

He raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long time since I had someone do all of these things for me. It’s kind of you. I’m just not used to it.”

She nodded. “I understand. In my effort to thank you for helping us, I overstepped. I’m sorry too.” After a moment, she asked, “Would you still like to eat?”

“Yes. That would be nice.” Michael put a couple of plates and some silverware on the kitchen table. In no time, they were seated with the dogs sitting close by, waiting to catch any scraps that might fall from the table.

“You have a really beautiful home,” Candi said.

He lifted his gaze and looked around. Once upon a time, the kitchen had been the hub of activity. This table had been where Noah learned his ABCs and numbers. It was where he and Evelyn would sit long after dinner was over, talking about their days.

Now, there was just him.

“I can’t really take credit for anything. My wife did all of the decorating.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “She has great taste.”

“ Had great taste,” he corrected. “She, uh...” He swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. And yet when he spoke again, his voice cracked with emotion. “She passed away a couple of years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Candi fingered her utensils as though unsure what to say.

The rest of their meal was quiet. He tried to think of something to talk about, but nothing sounded right in his mind. He told himself it was best if they didn’t get too close—didn’t learn too much about each other. But he couldn’t deny he was curious about her.

When the meal was over and it was time to clean up, he offered to take care of everything, but she insisted on helping. In the end, she washed the items that didn’t go in the dishwasher, and he dried them.

The awkward silence was going on too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to know more about her. “Have you always lived in Ohio?”

“Uh...” She glanced over at him. Surprise shone in her eyes. “Yes.”

“Do you have a lot of family?”

She shook her head. “I just have an aunt, but we’re not close at all. Years ago, my mother and her had some sort of falling out. To be honest, I don’t know what it was about, but they never spoke again. I can’t imagine never speaking to a sibling again, but maybe that’s because I never had one.” She was quiet for a moment as though contemplating what it would be like to have a brother or a sister. “Anyway my aunt didn’t even show up at my mother’s funeral. So, for practical purposes, I don’t have any family. At least none that mean anything to me.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Do you have family here in town?”

He nodded. “I have a lot of family here. There are my parents and my three brothers. I have an aunt, uncle, and three cousins.”

“Are you all close?”

He nodded. “We get together for holidays and birthdays.”

“Must be nice. I miss my parents. My dad died when I was a kid, and my mother passed a few years ago.”

He felt bad for her being all alone. Of course, he was alone most of the time, but that was due to his own choice. After he lost Evelyn and Noah, it was easier for him to be alone. He didn’t have to put a smile on his face when he felt miserable. He didn’t have to make excuses for losing track of a conversation because his thoughts meandered to memories of Evelyn and Noah.

Maybe it was time to change the conversation. “You must be anxious to get home.”

She shrugged. “With the animal shelter shutting down, I don’t really have any plans for the holiday.” She rinsed a plate and placed it in the drainer. She glanced at him. “Please, don’t go thinking that I’m pathetic and don’t have a life. I do. I have friends. It’s just that I haven’t made any firm plans for the holiday.”

He nodded. “I’d like to say that I don’t have any firm plans, but my mother would strongly disagree with that statement.”

Candi smiled. “Sounds like you are close.”

He nodded. “Close enough. Of course, if it was up to my mother, I’d be eating dinner at her house every evening.”

“I take it that’s not your style?”

Michael shook his head. “My mother is well-meaning, but she hovers if you let her. I just need my own space.”

Just then Odie moved to the back door and whined. Michael knew what that meant. He set aside the drying towel. “I’ll take them out.”

“You don’t have to. I can do it.”

“It’s okay. The area probably needs to be shoveled again.” He moved to the door and put on his coat and boots. The puppies all fought to get out the door at the same time. They stumbled over each other. In the end, Tank got out the door first. Michael was not surprised. Tank appeared to take his position as the leader of the group seriously.

Michael shoveled out a spot for the pups, while Tank jumped into the higher snow. Michael smiled and shook his head. The little fellow definitely enjoyed the snow. He’d do well living in Vermont.

He glanced over at the other two pups. They were not as fond of the white stuff. They did their business and then hustled back to the door.

In the end, he had to take the two pups in first and dry them off while Tank continued to romp around in the snow. When he saw Michael, he rushed toward him. Tank leapt up. His snow-covered paws landed on Michael’s pant leg.

Michael ran a gloved hand over the dog’s head. “Are you having fun?”

As if Tank could understand him, he barked. Then he got down and ran back into the deep snow. All the while his tail swished back and forth. Michael wasn’t comfortable with Tank playing in the deep snow, because it was well over the puppy’s head. So Michael called Tank, and to his surprise, the pup came running to him.

Michael found the little guy was growing on him. Not that he was thinking of adopting him. Michael reassured himself that he was fine on his own.

But that wasn’t the real truth, and he knew it. He couldn’t risk letting someone, not even a rambunctious puppy, into his heart. He’d barely survived the loss of his wife and son. He couldn’t go through something like that again.