As promised, Lucy showered, scrubbing her skin well to remove all traces of the bubble bath's fragrance. Tim made no further complaints when she reappeared in the kitchen a few minutes after bathing wearing clean pajamas and twisting her damp hair into a long braid. He asked if she was hungry or thirsty, which she answered by revealing she'd stored a piece of fresh apple pie in the fridge earlier that evening.
"Want to split it with me?" she asked. A few minutes later they were once more seated at the kitchen table, using separate forks to take bites from the slice straight out of the takeout container. While they ate they talked, and the conversation was not half as stilted and uncomfortable as it had been when the night began. They fell into their old rhythm easily; almost too easily. It was like no time had passed at all.
Yet, time had most certainly passed. There were parts of him that she still knew well. Parts, she would have argued at one time in her life, that she understood better than anyone else, but there was now a gap in her knowledge that could only have been caused by their separation. More than once, he'd started to describe a moment at his new station or reference a person she did not know, and after realizing she had no context for the place or people, Tim had been forced to double back in his story to provide her with more detail. It stung a bit to have missed a portion of his life, but Lucy had no choice but to grin and bear it. After all, it had been her own doing.
They had somewhat better luck sharing the bed on their second attempt. Lucy had a tendency to hog the covers, and a few times throughout the night she was jostled awake by Tim as he tried to untangle his half of the quilt from her legs. When dawn broke, piercing the mist of early morning a little before seven, she woke for good. She had always been a morning person. At home, she preferred to follow an unhurried routine. Usually, she awoke well before she needed to in order to enjoy her coffee and breakfast before beginning her day. Even though she was on vacation, certain habits were ingrained. Leaving Tim to sleep, she went to the kitchen and prepared a fresh pot of coffee. While it brewed, she walked to the window to admire the view she'd missed the night before. It looked to be a chilly morning. Although no snow had fallen overnight, the ground outside appeared damp, and there was the fading evidence of frost still gathered on the branches of the evergreens surrounding the cabin. Even the pale sunlight looked cold and sharp.
Once the coffee finished brewing, Lucy made a cup to her liking, leaving out a second mug for Tim to use whenever he woke up. Then, she tiptoed back into the bedroom, grabbing her shoes and coat before closing the door behind her quietly. She sipped on the coffee as she descended the mountain, warming her hands around the mug while keeping an eye on the gully to her right. About halfway down the gravel path, she spotted a shallow divot, the mark from where she'd fallen the night before. A few feet from that, she found her phone. It had landed face up and was as cold as ice, but other than that and a low battery, appeared to be in all right condition. She tucked it into her coat pocket as she turned to walk back up the mountain. When Little Green came into view, she spotted Tim through the picture window. He waved to her. She waved back.
"Thought you were trying to leave again," he joked when she walked through the door, but despite his teasing, Lucy noticed the hint of a nervous smile on his face.
"You wish." She held up her phone. "Figured I'd get a jump on the hunt. It wasn't too far from where I fell."
"I told you I would help, you know."
"You were still sleeping. I didn't want to wake you."
"So you say in daylight. You're a real bully about blankets," Tim grumbled good-naturedly. "I was about to make breakfast. Do you want any?"
"Oh, you don't have to do that-" Lucy began to say before he interrupted her.
"I don't mind. I'm offering."
"Okay, yeah. That'd be nice." She finished off her coffee and walked into the kitchen, placing her used mug carefully into the sink. Tim followed, listening quietly as she relayed her plans for the morning. "I'm going to go get changed. I'd like to see more of Julian if I can. Oh, and I need to find a place to stay."
"To stay?" His brows knit together, his confusion obvious as he asked, "You're leaving?"
"That's what we discussed yesterday, right?" she replied. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I mean…" he paused, then leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms over his chest. "Do you want to go?"
Not particularly. Not now, after they'd made amends; after they, all things considered, had managed to have a nice night together… but to his question, she answered, "I want you to have the holiday you want."
"Then it's settled." Tim pushed off of the counter. "You're staying here."
"Are you sure? "
"Come on, Lucy. Let's not argue again. It's Christmas Eve." He turned away and walked towards the pantry. "How does french toast sound?" As he scanned the shelves for ingredients, Tim asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said you were going into town today. Mind if I come with?"
"You want to come with me?"
"Not if I'm going to bother you. If you'd rather go alone, I understand."
"That's not what I meant," she corrected quickly. "I just figured you'd have other plans."
Tim chuckled. "I'm sure I can find room in my schedule for your sake."
While Tim made breakfast, Lucy excused herself to change out of her pajamas and charge her phone. She rummaged through her suitcase and selected a clean pair of jeans and a heavy red sweater. After washing her face and applying a little makeup, she returned to the kitchen just in time to see Tim place the finished french toast and a bowl of sliced strawberries on the table. They ate quickly, and she offered to wash the dishes while Tim showered and changed. Neither task took very long, and she was setting the last plate onto the drying rack as he rounded the corner with her coat folded over his forearm.
"You ready?" He held her coat open, helping her into it.
"Thank you," she said, then asked, "You feeling okay today? Will you be all right to walk down the mountain?"
"My truck is parked out back. I can drive."
Remembering Art's warning about not much space to turn around, Lucy frowned, which Tim mistook for reluctance. "If you want to walk, we can. I just thought-"
"-No, it's okay." She fixed a smile onto her face. "Just promise me you'll drive carefully, all right?"
"Seriously, Lucy," he joked as they walked out the door. He locked the cabin before leading the way out back, where his silver pickup truck occupied the small clearing behind Little Green. He held open the passenger's side door for her. "You know I'm a safe driver." After taking his place in the driver's seat and starting the truck, Tim asked, "How'd you get up here anyway? I haven't seen your car. "
"Well, I had to walk," she replied dourly as he carefully reversed out of the clearing. "My car is in the barn at the bottom of the hill. Someone in town warned me the drive up might not go well in a car like mine."
"I take it you're still driving that old bucket of bolts, then?" Tim teased as he eased the truck slowly down the road. "You should have your union rep negotiate higher pay so you can get a replacement."
"That car is my baby."
"That car is one strong wind from total collapse."
They soon arrived at the bottom of the slope, where the gravel road gave way to pavement. Rather than park on the edge of town, Tim drove them towards the center. For being just after nine in the morning, Julian was surprisingly busy. Last minute shoppers dotted the sidewalks, with folks going in and out of different stores, carrying brightly colored bags and wishing one another Happy Holidays. A few passed by holding red paper cups containing coffee from the cafe at the far end of Main Street, and a small market of five festively decorated stalls had sprung up overnight on the sidewalk in front of Miner's Diner.
"Is there any place you wanted to check out first?" Lucy asked after they parked.
Tim shrugged. "This was your idea. I'm just tagging along."
"Right." She glanced to her left, looking down the rows of stores that lined the road. "That dress shop looks nice. Want to start there?" Then she led the way with Tim at her side.
They stopped in at a few stores throughout the morning, glancing over the shelves and making polite conversation with shopkeepers. Both Lucy and Tim took great interest in the small storefront that served as a combination studio and gallery for a local artist. Tim found a watercolor painting of Little Green framed and mounted on one of the walls. After getting the artist's permission, he took a picture of it with his phone, intending to send it to Angela at some point during their stay. They discussed checking out the pioneer museum, but found it was not open to the public for another hour, leaving them no choice but to come back later. Next to the museum was a vintage clothing and home goods shop. The store, like the others, was decorated for the holidays. A small tree stood in the center of the shop. Its boughs were decorated with gold Danbury Mint ornaments, and a ceramic angel with chipped wings sat at the very top. The owner played soft Christmas classics on a record table that stood beside the tree, and under the record player, a display case held more holiday vinyls that bore their purchase prices on small round stickers. The store itself was just a little disorganized. Lucy whispered to Tim it felt more like an estate sale than a store, but it was evident that everything for sale had been selected with care and diligently kept. When they paused in front of a stack of men's hats, Lucy laughed to herself before sticking an old straw cowboy's hat on Tim's head.
"There's gold in them there hills," she whispered, parodying a western accent.
"Oh, real mature, Lucy," he retorted as he returned the hat to the top of the stack, but she caught him smiling in spite of himself.
They continued through the shop together. Lucy was initially drawn towards a rack of vintage suits, but pivoted when a table of trinkets next to the dressing rooms attracted her attention. The items were a little mismatched, seeming to defy neat categorization. Some were vintage appliances, like the old egg timer shaped like a chicken that Tim picked up to examine first. A few hand-carved cutting boards were also on display, their etchings softened by age and use. What caught Lucy's eye was a golden object that, when she held it, was smaller than her palm. A heavy circle of gold with flowers and a large green enamel butterfly on top, at first she thought it was no more than a pretty paperweight until she noticed the small turnkey towards the bottom. She carefully turned the key three times, and within seconds, soft tinkling music began to play. The butterfly's wings moved to the melody, gently flapping in time with the music. Before she could wonder aloud what the song was, Tim spoke.
"It's 'Evergreen'," he said softly. "From 'A Star Is Born'." When she turned to him with a look of surprise on her face, he defended, "I like Kris Kristofferson, okay? Sue me."
"Little Green. 'Evergreen'." As the song slowed to a stop, Lucy carefully returned the music box to its place on the table. "We just can't escape green this trip, can we, Tim?"
They stayed only a few minutes longer when Tim checked the time. As it had neared noon, Lucy asked to visit the market in front of the diner before lunch.
"You go ahead," he said, pausing on the sidewalk outside of the vintage store. "I saw an antique armory a few blocks down. Thought I might take a look."
"You never struck me as a collector."
"I'm not," he replied. "I'm going to see if they have a practice range, maybe get a few rounds in."
They agreed to meet at Miner's Diner for lunch, then went their separate ways with Lucy breaking off to the right towards the diner, and Tim heading left to the antique armory.
Many of the booths in front of the diner were Christmas-themed, selling ornaments, holiday displays, and themed gifts. These, Lucy passed through quickly, having no use for ornaments at the moment. One of the stalls contained only a single table and a group of three women who sat on metal chairs, and each tried their very best to coerce her into signing up for a "honey hayride" that evening. They were a quilting group, one of the ladies said, and the hayrides were their way of fundraising for the soup kitchen in the next county.
"A pretty thing like you?" the woman said with a wink. "I bet you've got a beau or two who'd be happy to join you."
Lucy laughed. Sure, a hayride through a quaint mountain town on Christmas Eve sounded wonderful, but she couldn't in good conscience deprive a more deserving couple of their slot by going alone; neither could she picture a universe where she'd succeed in convincing Tim to accompany her. When they asked once more, she respectfully declined, but still wished the women luck with their fundraising before she continued on to the last vendor in the row.
The final booth was less Christmas-y than the others. Rather than offer holiday items, the merchandise was a celebration of the town of Julian. The seller had laid out apple-themed gifts, apple pies, apple crisps, apple turnovers, and growlers filled to the brim with hard apple cider on four different folding tables. There was a metal rack of t-shirts as well, and those too were specific to Julian. Among them, Lucy found a black t-shirt that declared in white letteringNo gold, but I found this shirt in Julian, CA with the gray silhouette of a mountain behind it. It made her chuckle and after a moment, she pulled it off its hanger.
Hopefully Tim still wears a medium, Lucy thought as she carried the shirt to the register.
Art was once again manning the soda counter when Lucy walked into Miner's Diner. He greeted her happily, and she reciprocated his cheer, then asked for a sweet tea as she tucked the shirt for Tim into her bag and zipped it closed. After Art placed her drink in front of her a minute later, she looked at him with an exaggerated, scrutinizing glare. "I'm trying to decide whether you're a traitor or not," she said, then took a sip of her drink.
Deep laughter rumbled in his chest. "I take it you got a surprise last night."
"So you did know?"
"Not specifics," Art said. "Darlene played it close to the vest. I tell you, it's been the longest month of my life. We hate keeping secrets, but Mrs. Lopez is hard to say no to."
"Wait, month?" Lucy asked just as Tim spoke from behind her.
"Yeah, Lopez is hard to say no to," he agreed before taking the stool to Lucy's left. "Sorry. Am I interrupting?"
"Not at all," she replied, then introduced the two men. After Art brought them a pair of menus, they ordered lunch. Once they'd finished, she asked what Tim had in mind for the rest of the afternoon. Although Lucy initially suggested going back to the Pioneer museum, a wince from Tim made her reconsider.
"I may need to head back to the cabin for a bit here soon," he admitted.
"You okay?"
"Eh… just a little sore. All that driving yesterday kind of messed with my back." Seeing concern was her instant reaction, Tim tried to talk her out of worrying too much. "I'm fine, honest. I'm sure I can push through if you want to see the museum."
Lucy shook her head. "You're not pushing through on my account."
"I don't want you to miss out on what you wanted to see."
"We can go another time. Why don't you head out to the truck? I'll settle up here and meet you outside."
"You don't have to buy my lunch," Tim mumbled, but it only took one sharp look from Lucy to make him stand. "Sometimes you can be just as pushy as Angela. Did you know that?"
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she replied, then waved to Art and asked for their checks as Tim headed outside. She paid both bills, joining Tim in the truck a few minutes later. "All right, let's get you home."
"You sure you don't want to stay?"
"I'm sure," she said, adding, "I wanted to do some reading anyway. It'll be nice to relax. That's what vacations are for, right?"
While Tim rested, Lucy brewed a second pot of coffee, once again scaling the ingredients to make enough for two. As the pot filled, she went to the living room, finding the books she'd set aside the night before. From the pile she'd stacked on the coffee table, she chose the one titled The Light of Paris. Once the coffee had finished brewing, she brought her full cup to the living room and settled onto the couch with the novel in hand. She sipped slowly from her drink while reading, immersed in the sweet, but sort of sad story, until one line from the narrator made her heart ache; so struck was she by the quote that Lucy decided to write it down. She'd left her purse by the door, so she set aside both her coffee and the book in the hopes of finding some scrap paper. The t-shirt for Tim was still rolled into a ball at the top of her purse. After shaking it out, she laid it over her shoulder before continuing to riffle through the bag.
The first piece of paper she found was Angela's note. Lucy had stowed it away the night before, shoving both the paper and the envelope it came in carelessly into her bag. Now, the paper was wrinkled, but not so badly that she could not make out the message. Even upon re-reading, Lucy was not sure what to make of it, and she rested back on her heels as she read it a second, then a third time. The handwriting was neat and pretty, three sentences written in perfect, unhurried cursive. It was nothing like the thin, slanted print that Lucy remembered seeing in Angela's reports before, which meant that someone else had written the note on her behalf. Darlene, perhaps? Whomever it was, the whole scheme must have required so much creativity from Angela, and cooperation from Wesley, Darlene and, to an extent, Art.
Lucy was surprised that she managed to pull it together in just a few days, but then, that thought may not have totally been true. She had only been aware for a few days, but hadn't Art revealed that Darlene kept the secret for a month at least?
You're welcome. Angela had said, but welcome for what? For the free use of the cabin? For the chance to leave Los Angeles rather than have a sad Christmas at home by herself? Surely she didn't mean for Tim's company, because that would have meant Angela knew how Lucy felt about Tim, and how on earth would she have known? That had been Lucy's most heavily guarded secret. Not even Jackson knew. Sure, she figured it was possible (if unlikely) that something she had said or done raised suspicions, but how? And when? The last time they'd even been in the same place had been at Angela's wedding, when Tim paid her no more regard than he would have a ghost.
Her musings were cut short when the bedroom door creaked open. Lucy hastily shoved the note back into her bag, standing as Tim walked into the living room while rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"How's your back?" she asked.
"I think I'll live," he answered. "What are you doing over there?"
"Oh, I was… looking for my chapstick."
Tim pointed to her shoulder. "What's that?"
"Oh, this? Just a little gift for you." She pulled the shirt off of her shoulder and draped it down her front, then tossed it to him. "Merry Christmas, Tim. It was between this and that cowboy hat."
He chuckled while reading the shirt. "Thanks, Lucy."
"You're welcome," she said with a smile. "I made more coffee. Would you like some?" She walked into the kitchen and got out a mug for him, but he hadn't followed. Instead, Tim had stayed put in the living room, wringing the shirt in his hands. "You okay, Tim?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding quickly. "Um, I wanted to ask you. What are your plans for dinner?"
"Dinner?" Lucy glanced back at the kitchen, then faced him again. "I haven't thought that far ahead, to be honest. I'm sure we can throw something together here, though. Do you want me to see what we have in the fridge?"
"Why don't we go out," he said, hastily adding, "for dinner, I mean. I'll pay since you bought me lunch."
"That's nice of you, but I wasn't expecting you to pay me back."
"It's not just that. We need to go back into Julian anyway." He took a deep breath before revealing shyly, "I bought us tickets for the hayride. Our slot is at eight o'clock."
"You bought us tickets for the *honey* hay ride?"
His face fell. Once again, her questions had been misinterpreted as hesitation. Tim sounded hurt as he mumbled, "I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it."
"I do, I'm just…" Astonished? Shocked? "… surprised."
"Why?"
She couldn't say.
"Don't overthink it, Lucy," Tim said with a smirk. "It's just a hayride between friends for a good cause. I won't make you call me honey during it."
A/N:
Sorry updates slowed down. The holidays took up all my bandwidth. I hope everyone had a nice holiday, whatever you celebrate!
The book Lucy reads is "The Light of Paris" by Eleanor Brown. The quote she wanted to write down was, "Imagine what I could be. Imagine what could happen if we all had the heart to be who we truly are."
Thank you for reading!