The Christmas Phoenix Read online

Page 3


  He held his tongue again when the boy grabbed a sweatshirt before following him to the shed. Did he really think a sweatshirt was good enough to protect him from the sub-zero temperature? Well, the boy was old enough to know better.

  Jake found the chainsaw and got it to work. He and Rory went around to the north side of the house.

  Hearing a door open, he turned and saw Rory go back inside. He took a deep breath to calm his anger. How had Jess saddled herself with such an irresponsible punk? Grumbling to himself, he pulled the chain and started to trim a fallen tree. He had a dozen or so pieces cut when a pair of gloved hands picked one up. Ah. The kid had finally realized he needed to dress for the weather. He now sported a snowmobile suit and a pair of boots.

  The suit was a few sizes too large for the boy. It must have belonged to his dad. But though it hung loosely, the arms and legs were just the right length for him. Rory apparently had his father's height. Must be the dad’s boots, too. Poor kid.

  He went back to cutting wood.

  Jess came out to join them and by noon, the wood pile had grown to a stack about ten feet long and about four feet high. She and the kid had worked hard. Jake's legs ached, and he knew he'd have to sit down. Time to quit. If Jess needed more, he'd come back. He started walking back to the house.

  Rory came to him, his hands outstretched. "I'll put the saw back in the shed."

  It rankled him that a young kid would need to ease the way for him, but this would save him several steps. And his leg was getting sore. He handed the saw to Rory, and hobbled the rest of the way to the house.

  Jess was in the kitchen, stirring something on a camping stove set up on her counter. She looked up when they came in.

  "I figured we all deserved a hot drink after all that work."

  "Hot chocolate?" The kid’s voice squeaked when he got excited, Jake noticed.

  "Yup. Sound good?"

  Rory nodded, and Jake noticed the kid was less sulky than before. The exercise must have been good for him. He and Rory took off their snowmobile suits and left them on hooks in the mudroom. Their boots were placed on a rubber mat. Rory went into the living room and soon began a phone conversation with one of his friends. Jake stayed on the bench, thankful for the rest. He'd been standing for a long time. Hopefully, he hadn't overdone it.

  He massaged his leg, thankful for the warmth the friction generated. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall.

  "Jake? The hot chocolate's ready. Want to join us?" Jess stood in front of him, a worried frown lining her face.

  "Mmm? Sorry. I must have dozed off." Jake pushed against the bench, but his leg wouldn't support him. He flopped back down. "Uhh, would you mind if I drank mine here? My legs aren't quite rested."

  Jess' eyes widened, but she nodded and left. She was back a moment later with a huge mug and a bundle wrapped in a towel.

  "I thought maybe you could use this." She held out a hot water bottle.

  Jake started to shake his head, but realized pride wouldn’t help his leg. He took the rubber bottle and settled it on his aching muscles. The warmth immediately eased the pain. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” She waited until Jake had the heated bundle where he wanted it, and then extended the mug of steaming cocoa toward him. “Thank you for taking the time to cut all that wood. Did you hurt yourself out there?”

  “No, it's an old injury. Iraq."

  “Oh. I guess we should have quit earlier."

  "It's no big deal. I need to exercise more to strengthen the leg muscles."

  "You got your exercise today. I forgot to ask. Is Charlie doing better now?"

  “He's not hiding under the pool table any more, but he's still afraid to go outside. And he's not eating much.”

  “That’s awful. He needs to be outdoors. Say, Rory has a way with animals. Maybe he should go over after school tomorrow and help you take care of him.”

  “If he can get that dog to eat and play outside, I’d be in his debt.”

  “No, we’d be even again, after all the wood you cut for us. I’ll find out if he has plans. If not, he should get there around four o’clock tomorrow. The stream is frozen over, so he should be able to walk across to your house from here.”

  Jake leaned back and sipped his cocoa. There it was, that funny feeling he got whenever Jess was near. What was it? Was it contentment, being with someone he could trust?

  Or was it fear, the awful feeling something bad would happen if he started to enjoy himself too much?

  Chapter Six

  Jake hunkered down in front of the ice block and attached his paper pattern to it. In a few hours, this block would become a vase. A local florist wanted a set of six and planned to set fresh flowers inside them. The flowers would be protected from the ice by a clear plastic container.

  He put on his headphones to protect his ears and switched on his chainsaw. Carefully, he cut through the pattern to create a two-dimensional figure. Then he placed an identical pattern on the other flat side of the block and cut through, making a square version of his vase. Now he would need to round it out.

  Back in his old shop, he could have simply set the block on a lathe for a much fancier design. But he'd had to sell much of his equipment when he liquidated to pay off his debts. Now, he had to do this the hard way. He bent and gently touched the blade to the ice. He worked slowly, shaving off only a little bit each time. The corners gradually smoothed into curves, and soon he could begin adding the detail with a chisel.

  The back door to the garage banged open. It might as well have been an explosion. Jake's upper body straightened and the blade jerked, slicing the entire top of the vase off. It fell to the floor, shattering in a hundred pieces.

  Jake turned off the motor on the chainsaw, took a deep breath, bent his head, and started counting. The shrink at the rehab center had told him to count before reacting. If he turned around now, he'd probably behead whoever had interrupted his concentration. All his work for the afternoon was now gone. He didn't even have the piece to reattach. He might have to start over.

  He counted to fifty, and just to be safe, continued counting. He took the headphones off and set them down.

  "I'm—I’m sorry. I didn't mean to make you do that." The voice was quiet, with a slight quiver. It was the kid. Rory.

  Jake sighed. "I know you didn't."

  "Um. The basement is clean. Charlie is outside. And—I’ll go home now. Unless you want me to—fix that, somehow."

  Jake shook his head. He heard the door close. Quietly. He might be able to fix the vase. The cut was clean, so he should be able to attach another block of ice to it. He grabbed a spray bottle of water and wet down the cut surface. Then he took a spare chunk of ice and held it against the wetness, waiting for them to freeze together. He put the entire piece in the freezer to solidify.

  Next, he went to work on a second vase. Two hours later, the second vase was shaped. He sat back on his stool and checked his work.

  The knocking was soft, and it took a while for his mind to digest what it was. He put his tools down and opened the door.

  Jess was there. Great. Another distraction.

  "Yeah?" He hadn't spoken in a few hours, and his voice had a gruff edge he hadn't intended.

  "Rory told me what happened to your sculpture. He feels really bad about it."

  Jake shrugged. "Stuff happens."

  "True, but that was a lot of work that went down the drain. We'd like to make it up to you."

  He frowned. "Can you carve some floral vases? I have a big banquet this weekend."

  "Well no, but—”

  "I suppose I should put a sign on the door when I'm working in here, so people don't barge in. I need to put a lot of work into this project in order to get it done by this weekend. That doesn't leave much time for distractions."

  "Okay, how about this—Rory can come over and take care of Charlie after school each day, and I’ll leave you something to eat each afternoon so you can concentrate
on getting your sculptures done. Will that help?"

  "It sure would. But I can't ask you to do all that."

  "You're not asking. I'm offering. We owe you. I'll send Rory over tomorrow right after school. And I'll get started on a meal or two to put in your fridge."

  Jake watched her walk out of the garage. The woman had a great figure to watch. That was worth a broken sculpture or two any day.

  ****

  Jess opened Jake’s screen door, turned, and held it open with her hip as she opened the wood door. Then she bent to pick up the slow cooker she had set at her feet. The aroma of chicken soup comforted her. The slow cooker would keep it warm until Jake was ready to eat. She’d planned to set it down on his countertop and plug it in, but one look at his kitchen made her grimace. The place looked as if every plate and utensil in the house was piled either in the sink or on the counter. Empty pizza and fast food containers overflowed from the wastebasket. Was this how he lived all the time, or just when he was under pressure to finish a project?

  Well, she wasn't going to leave him with this mess. He wouldn’t be able to eat the soup if he didn't have a clean bowl and spoon. Sighing, Jess rolled up her sleeves and went to work.

  An hour later, the counters were gleaming, and the dishwasher hummed. Two large garbage bags leaned against the bottom cupboards near the garage door.

  Rory came in the front door, carrying Charlie. Jess handed him a towel and he wiped off the puppy's paws before setting the wiggling bundle down. Boots were removed before Rory stepped off the mat.

  "I finished feeding and exercising Charlie and saw your truck was still in the driveway. Can you give me a ride home?"

  "Sure. I just need to get rid of this trash. I'm assuming the bin is in the garage."

  Rory scrunched his face. "I don't know, Mom. Mr. Thompson is working out there, and he won't want to be interrupted."

  "I won't interrupt him."

  "Yeah, but any noise might make him freak, and if he freaks he'll mess up another sculpture."

  "All right, I won't go in the garage."

  "Good." Satisfied, Rory cast a curious look about him. "You know, this place is really nice. He must make a lot of money."

  "Yes, it is nice, but I don't make a lot of money. It belongs to my sister and her husband."

  Both Jess and Rory started at hearing Jake, who had entered from the garage without either of them hearing him.

  "I smelled something delicious, and my stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten in a while." He glanced around. "Looks like you've been working. I can see the counters and the inside of the sink.” He frowned. "I wasn't expecting you to do housework."

  "I know you weren’t, but I figured since you were in a time crunch you could use some help. Especially when I couldn't find a clean bowl or spoon for you to eat the soup with."

  Jake answered with a curt nod, and Jess thought she detected a bit of red in his cheeks.

  "Yeah, I haven't kept up on things. Thanks. For the clean-up and the soup." He walked over to the counter and lifted the lid on the slow cooker. "Did you guys eat already?"

  "Yes, we did. In fact, we need to get home now, so Rory can get his homework done. And I'm going to try and get a little shut-eye. We're supposed to get more snow tonight, so I'm going to have to be outside plowing early in the morning."

  "That's rough work.” He picked up a bowl and ladled some of the thick soup into it.

  "It’s a living. So, will you have the sculptures done for the banquet tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I will.”

  “Good. I imagine you'll be busy for the next month, with the holidays coming up."

  "I suppose. The orders are starting to come in, now that some people have seen my work. But my sister Donna is expecting me at her house in Chicago for Thanksgiving."

  "That's next week."

  Jake's hands froze. His jaw dropped, and his eyes opened wide. "Next week? Oh, no. I've gotta go shopping. We're exchanging Christmas gifts because she and her family are going on a cruise in December." He put the bowl down and started to pace. "I hate to shop. I never know what to buy." He looked up at Jess. "What should I get her?"

  Jess laughed. "How would I know? I've never met her."

  "Well, no, but you're a woman. I thought…well, never mind."

  She took pity on him. "When do you leave for Chicago?"

  "My flight leaves on Wednesday morning."

  "You've got plenty of time. Finish your vases for the banquet, and then if you want me to help you shop, call me. I've got Monday off from the hotel."

  "You're already so busy, I don't want to impose on you again."

  "It's no problem. I have to shop for gifts, too." She put on her coat and gloves. "We need to get home now. I'll pick up the crock tomorrow after I'm done at the hotel. Maybe we can talk about some ideas for gifts."

  Chapter Seven

  Jake refilled the tank of the ice machine. Now that Thanksgiving was over, he would be busy every day. He had all the commissions he could handle with the equipment he had.

  He’d arrived back in town three nights ago. His family holiday was done. Donna and her family had loved the relatively inexpensive yet thoughtful gifts Jess had helped him pick out. He'd enjoyed his visit with his sister and her family, but it felt good to be back home.

  Home? When did this town in the far north become home?

  Only a few months ago this had been a very temporary plan. A chance to get away, lick his wounds, and start over. But he was beginning to love this corner of the world. Other than the cold temps and the massive amount of lake effect snow, he felt comfortable here. He felt…at peace.

  He had some good neighbors. The parents of the boys he had caught with the firecrackers had remained friendly. Rory had continued to come and exercise the dog even after Jake returned from his trip. And Jess...well, she was never far from his thoughts.

  It bothered him how much he thought about her. About the way she worked so hard. He could relate to her predicament. Too bad the kid didn't do much to help her. He seemed like a nice enough kid, and he related well to Charlie. But he seemed to do everything he could to make more work for her. Last week, when she and Jake had shopped together, she could hardly keep her eyes open. The snowplowing business had her getting up early, and the hotel banquets kept her on her feet all day. And she constantly needed to keep tabs on her son, because he conveniently "forgot" things. Did he resent the time she spent away from him?

  As if the thought had summoned him, the boy's shout echoed from the back of the house. Charlie eagerly responded, and Jake nodded in approval at the camaraderie they seemed to have built. He put on his boots and gloves and went out to watch them play.

  Rory must have heard the door open. He turned toward the house and gave a friendly wave. Charlie, thinking they had another playmate, ran toward Jake, and Rory followed.

  "I hope it's okay I came over. I only had a half day of school today, so I figured I'd come early and give Charlie some exercise."

  "That's fine. Why did you only have school for half a day?"

  “Parent-teacher conferences. We got out at eleven."

  Jake checked his watch. "That was two hours ago. Did you eat lunch?"

  "I made myself a sandwich."

  "So you really can do something for yourself.” It was none of his business, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

  Rory frowned. “I can do plenty of things on my own.”

  "Oh. So you just don't have any ambition when you’re at home."

  "What are you talking about? I've got plenty of ambition."

  "Really? Your mom waits on you hand and foot, even though she works two full-time jobs to feed you. I wonder why you would let her do that."

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "Could be. I just know what I’ve seen."

  "Mom likes doing things for people. She said if she wants things done right, she has to do it herself. When I do stuff, I don't do it ri
ght."

  "So learn how to do it right."

  "She'd rather do it herself."

  "That so? You think she'd rather do your homework for you? Run you off to school when you've got a bus that runs right past your house? Pick your clothes up off the floor? Doesn't seem like any of that takes a lot of brain power."

  Rory was silent for a while. Then he started muttering, and Jake had to lean closer to discern the words.

  "After Dad died, Mom didn't do anything for a long time. She wouldn't even get out of bed for a few days. I did all the cooking and laundry and got myself to school. I was worried about her, so I called Grandma Tate. She came over and yelled at Mom and told her she needed to take care of her son. She told her if she had—" He swallowed and struggled to keep his composure. "If she had taken better care of her husband, he'd still be alive. After that, Mom got up and started doing everything."

  Jake rocked back on his heels, speechless. She did everything for the kid because someone had put a guilt complex on her? Because she thought she hadn't done enough for her husband? His heart bled for her. He could have cheerfully strangled the woman who had put this guilt into her.

  He cleared his throat. "I think it's time for her to cut back. She's working herself into the ground. I don't know what her finances are, and it's none of my business. But I do know she could use a hand. Why don't we do something to help her?"

  The kid was silent for a while. "Like what?"

  "Like maybe having dinner ready for her when she gets home. Like picking up after yourself. Like helping her out when she tackles something she doesn't have to do by herself. Like having your homework done and remembering to bring it to school instead of making her remind you and then drive you to school after she's been on the road for five hours plowing out people's driveways. Stuff she shouldn't have to do."

  The kid grimaced. "Yeah, I suppose I could do that. Except for having dinner ready. I can’t cook. And I’m not allowed to use anything but the microwave when she’s not there."