Chapter Four
Emily
The sound of my cell phone buzzing was a welcome relief in the silence of Mom’s living room. She was asleep, and I was using the central heating instead of the fireplace for warmth. I told myself it was because it seemed ridiculous to build a fire when I could have a warm house at the click of a button, but in reality, it was because I had never been able to start a lasting fire in my life.
I loved the crackling, sparking noise like the bonfires they used to build on Guy Fawkes Night back in Ardmore. My mom used to joke that it was silly for the village to celebrate a British tradition, but there was something inherently satisfying about the whole affair. As my grandfather used to point out, there was nothing wrong with celebrating everything.
It didn’t matter that I was Irish and not English. A giant bonfire burning away, sending plumes of smoke fifteen feet into the clear and frosty night sky was mesmerizing. There were other memories associated with it—toffee apples, plastic cups of soup, fireworks, and running around with the six other children in the village. It had been magical.
Now, as an adult who knew better, the memory was spoiled by how cold I got by standing around waiting for the fireworks, or how often the whole festival was canceled because it rained, which happened a lot. In reality, there were only one or two good bonfire nights that I had witnessed in my life, but they’d left a lasting memory.
They still stuck with me, grinding away at my consciousness until all I wanted to see in the living room fireplace was an inferno, and so I gave it a try.
Fifteen minutes later, I was covered in soot, with a sorry excuse for a flame struggling amidst the kindling and firewood.
“What was it Grandad told me?” I murmured. “Don’t suffocate it? What does that even mean?”
I strategically placed twists of paper here and there to attract the flame. It was still cold. Something I’d never associated with a fiery lick of heat before. No doubt, it needed time to build up. Patience was a virtue I’d always struggled to master.
Thoughts of my mother, and how happy she would be when she woke to see a roaring fire, filled my head. I grinned merely thinking about it. It was a simple thing, but she was too sick to get on her knees and start one up herself. With her compromised lungs, the smoke would be a killer.
Twenty minutes later, the fire seemed to be doing much better. It was finally getting warm. Reasonably convinced that it would do its own thing now, I settled into the corner of the sofa with a blanket and my cell phone, content to torture myself with the social media updates of my friends all happily living their lives in Los Angeles. I nearly dropped the damn thing when it buzzed in my hand.
My best friend, Sadie, was calling.
“God, am I glad you rang,” I immediately blurted out. “I’m going absolutely batshit crazy over here in the backwoods of the bloody beyond. It’s—”
“Woah, slow down there, Irish,” Sadie joked. “Your accent is showing, and I can barely understand a word you’re saying.”
I took a deep breath, let my heart slow down, then spoke with a far more painstakingly crafted, neutral voice. “Sorry. You know how it is when I only have my mom for company.”
“Not made any friends there?”
“I hope you’re joking.”
“Not found anyone down at the local bar to hang with? Canoodle with?”
“There is no canoodling happening here. The thought makes me cringe. Even if there was someone to meet—which there isn’t—it would be impossible because the weather is horrific.”
“Like planes are canceled horrific?”
“Yep,” I nodded my head in misery, “At least for now. I’m hoping it clears up by next week so I can get back to work. I’m out of vacation time, and I can’t see the boss man giving me extra comp time.” It was hard to believe I’d spent the month of January in Frazier Falls. “I’ve been gone too long by about thirty days.”
“Aw, Flanagan, it can’t be that bad.”
“You say that, but you have no idea how awful people can be. You’re so lucky you’ve always lived in a city where people stay to themselves and mind their business and manners.”
“Sounds like you had an encounter.”
“Hardly.” I jumped in fright when the fire let out a loud pop. It was merely a log splitting in two, but scary, regardless. Once the sparks settled, the flames continued to happily dance away.
“Tell me who has you burning inside?”
“Burning implies a level of passion for a person worth heating up over, which he isn’t.”
“Okay, now I’m curious,” Sadie said. “Who is he?”
That’s what she wanted to know. “He was arrogant as hell and went on to tell me I was the one being awful. In the end, he told me my ma deserved better than me.”
She laughed. “Sounds like you’ve met your match. How old is he? Is he hot?”
“Don’t you care how torturous it is for me to be here?”
“Yes, but this is the closest thing to gossip you’ve had to tell me since you left. You’ve gotta spill. It’s your responsibility as my best friend to entertain me.”
I checked the time on my mother’s ancient grandfather clock, which had survived the trip from Ireland to become the only possession she had left from her old life.
“Shouldn’t you be working? It’s barely four.”
“Yes, but I’m bored. You know we can’t do anything until you come back and get our project plans approved. At this rate, that will be February. Give me something to talk about until then.”
I laughed quietly. “Fine. You win. The guy couldn’t have been much older than me. And he was hot as hell, which makes him more annoying.”
Sadie let out an ooh of interest. “Ooh, what did he look like? Give me details.”
“Legit tall, dark, and handsome. Blue eyes, I think.”
“You think?”
“I was trying not to be obvious when I checked him out in the store, given that we were arguing. It was dark in the parking lot when we had our next encounter, so I’m not sure.”
“What happened in the parking lot?”
I growled. “I slipped on the ice and fell. He caught me.”
“Emily, that’s not arrogant. He was being chivalrous, and that’s a rarity these days. You need to jump on this guy pronto. It’s not like you’re going to be around long enough for an actual relationship, so who gives a crap if he’s slightly unpleasant? In this case, hot trumps everything.”
“All you want are the dirty details.”
“Absolutely! At a minimum, you need to get me a photo of him.”
“Sorry, no can do. I’m hoping I’ll somehow never see him again, though it seems like his brother works in the only convenience store in town, so knowing my luck, we’ll run into each other again.”
“He has a brother? Is he hot, too? He might be nicer … you never know.”
“You’re awful. But yeah, he was pretty damn good-looking too.”
“God, it’s not fair. Clearly, all the handsome guys have left Los Angeles and moved to Frazier Falls.”