“Get in. Get in. Get in!” A deep voice demanded.
I screamed as I was being pulled inside, fighting whoever this stranger was determined I was not going anywhere with him. I clobbered him across the jaw with the mug in my hand. It did little to help. The man growled and yanked me through the door, slamming it closed behind him. I lost my footing and landed on my butt.
As soon as I got my bearings I began sliding away from the stranger. He was tall. Above average in height and well built. I could tell I wouldn't be able to get the upper hand without a weapon.
The man stood with his hands pressed on the back of a dining chair, he was breathing heavily. “There was a bear.” He pointed in the general direction of the trash cans, “A bear. Outside. Bears can be dangerous. It’s okay now. We’re in here. It’s out there.”
“We are.” I said. Standing, I took several steps back. I reached into the pockets of my coat. My right hand found my cell phone. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and held it up. “I know who I am. Who are you?”
“The name’s McKinley.”
“What are you doing in my house?”
“Your house?”
“I rented it for the month. I came here with my things. I am staying here. For the next month this house is mine.” I continued. “Who are you? What are you doing inside this house without my knowledge or permission?”
“I just saved you from a bear.”
“I was slowly backing up to the door to let myself in. If you hadn’t of panicked you would have seen that.”
He looked at me sternly, hazel eyes brightening with anger. “I own this house. If you had read the paperwork I left, you wouldn’t have gone out on to the porch to begin with. The first mistake was yours.” He said as he wiped coffee off his face and neck with one of his many layers of clothing. McKinley, my new landlord, reached out for the stack of papers sitting on the dining table between us. “My note states that a couple of bears usually come through the area just before trash pick-up looking for food. Monday morning is pick-up day. The bears usually move on by Monday afternoon.” He pointed to the page as he read from it, “ ‘It’s best to refrain from outdoor activities from late Sunday afternoon to Monday afternoon.’ Here’s an article from last week’s newspaper reminding residents to be watchful of bears scavenging for food. There is rarely a problem.” He said, raising his eyes from the paperwork and looking squarely at me, “Because we keep an eye out for one another.” It felt like he was looking through me, “You didn’t read any of this did you?” he asked.
“No. Not yet. Now that I'm aware of the problem I will be more careful of bears and keep an eye out for others who might find themselves in an encounter with one.”
“Wolves. You need to watch out for wolves too.”
“Of course.”
“Do you know what to do if you lose power?”
“Bring more wood in from the stack on the porch?”
“There’s a generator in the shed off the mud room.”
A generator? Yikes. “You’re the owner, can’t I just call you to get the generator going?”
“What if there’s a blizzard and I can’t get here right away?” McKinley ran his fingers across his forehead in frustration. “I knew renting this place out was a bad idea. City people have no idea how to survive out here.” He looked at me. “Have you even been camping once in your life?”
“No.”
“Fishing? Hiking?”
“I’ve been known to take really long walks from time to time.”
A low growl rumbled from the back of his throat.
“My life doesn’t call for lots of wilderness survival skills but I can repair a high heel in five minutes or less.”
He looked at me without responding.
“I’m a novelist. My life is writing books, doing public appearances to promote the books as well as attending the occasional black tie event.”
McKinley relaxed a bit. “A novelist huh? I guess that doesn’t leave much time for camping. Have you written anything I might have read?”
“Not unless you’re looking for the man of your dreams. I’m a romance novelist. I write the Book Boyfriends Holiday Romance series? Jess Windstrom.” I said offering a hand.
“Oh. You’re one of those.” He said making a face.
“One of those?”
“One of those writers who give women unrealistic expectations of what a relationship looks like.”
There it was. One of my least favorite statements. I reacted instead of responding. Regrettable but he did barge in and piss all over a perfectly nice morning. “Which is what men who aren’t willing to do the work that is needed to build and maintain a healthy relationship have a habit of saying.”
“Tropical island getaways? Private jets to exotic locations for dinner?”
“Have you read any of my books?”
“I just said I haven't.”
“Have you ever discussed the content of any of my books with anyone who reads them in depth?”
“I’ve never heard of you before today, of course not.”
I continued my retort without listening to McKinley’s response. “If you knew anything about my novels you would know that I don’t write those kinds of stories. There is not a single billionaire, alpha male, or BDSM master in my books. My book boyfriends are regular men with regular jobs. Some are a bit more successful in societal terms, some are in better physical shape, most are a little more handsome, all of them are more willing to go the extra mile for love but that’s it.” I grabbed the papers from his hand. “If you don’t mind I need to read this paperwork.” I said as I flipped through the pages. “I see there's a number to call for more information listed at the top of each page. In some cases several numbers. Instructions for starting and running the generator are here as well. I will call you if I have any questions. Thank you for saving me from the bear who had no interest in me whatsoever. Have a nice day!” I said. I looked at the paperwork and commenced reading ignoring the mountain man entirely. I waited for his brown hair and close trimmed bearded jaw to disappear from my line of sight and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the front door open and close.
After spending an hour or two thumping around the house, I silently cursed McKinley as I scribbled and typed out a (Just In Case Of Epic Film Worthy Winter Storm) Survival Plan. I taped it in several places around the house and verified I could find all flashlights, candles, and matches easily. I located the generator. Using the paperwork provided as my guide I took a few minutes to learn where everything was practicing the steps I would need to take in order to start the generator before returning to book boyfriend eleven.
When I sat down this time I tried putting the first two book boyfriend elevens together. I got a much loved jr. high school principal who also worked as an interim sheriff. He spent time helping at risk kids when he wasn’t working his day jobs. By the time I got done with him the guy was spread too thin to be anyone’s boyfriend. I had a heroine who was losing patience and questioning her ability to find true love. Let's face it a romance where the main character has self-esteem issues and a love interest who is never around will rarely lead to a happy ending.
I found myself in the silence of a mountainous winter wonderland left alone with my thoughts. They weren’t good ones.
When a prolific writer with a mental block runs into a doozy of a brick wall is it really a block or has she just run out of gas? A lunch featuring my favorite comfort foods and exercise didn’t help. In the true spirit of writerly procrastination I decided to make a phone call.
Lisa didn't sound like her usual self when she answered and happily surrendered the phone to Phoebe right away so I could thank her.
“I knew it was the place for you when I saw pictures of the kitchen Aunt Jess.”
“You chose very well. Are you having fun with your mom?” I asked.
“It’s okay but I still have school for another week or so.”
“Of course. I know you’re a big girl but please make plenty of time for your mom, she misses you so when she’s working.”
“I do.”
“What did you do yesterday?” I asked teasing.
“First Sunday in December.” Phoebe sighed.
“And?”
“Lunch and ice skating at Rockefeller center? It’s our tradition? We’ve been doing it forever.”
I could almost hear her roll her eyes.
“Did Brent fall on the ice again this year?” I asked.
There was a silence.
“Phoebe? Phoebe is everything okay?” The child did not respond. I decided to take another approach. “Can I talk to your mom for a minute before I hang up?”
“Mom, Aunt Jess needs you.”
As soon as Lisa returned to the phone I asked, “What’s going on?”
“What?”
“You don’t sound right and neither does Phoebe. What’s happened?”
“Brent left me. He told me he wanted to end things a few weeks ago but reassured me he wanted to stay through the holidays. He didn’t want to ruin Christmas for Phoebe.”
“Then he changed his mind, that shit.”
“I was hoping he would change his mind about the relationship. He came home last night and said it wasn’t right to keep pretending that we’re happy when we aren’t. He cared for Phoebe and I deeply but he wasn’t in love with me anymore and it was time for him to go. He even suggested since it was still early in the month Phoebe might be okay with the change by the time Christmas arrived. Then he packed his things and left. When Phoebe got home I tried to pretend it was good news and we would have a much better holiday without Brent but Phoebe saw right through me. We’ve been doing the usual things. We’re baking cookies now and watching one of Phoebe’s favorite holiday movies. I took her to lunch and ice skating at Rockefeller Center yesterday but…”
“...it’s really difficult to keep a brave face when your heart is breaking.” I said finishing her sentence.
Lisa’s voice grew distant for a moment. I heard her say, “Go ahead and start your homework, I’ll finishing cleaning up.”
Returning to me she agreed. “It is.”
“I was thinking, there's a small town a short walk from here that looks like a charming place with lots of holiday events, there’s also skiing other fun things to do, why don’t you and Phoebe come up here?”
“For how long?”
“For the holidays. It shouldn't be too difficult to get the two of you here if we work on it together. I can arrange for the plane tickets and transportation. You get your Christmas shopping done, get it boxed up and dropped off for shipping, Phoebe's gifts will probably get here before you
and Phoebe do. We can all have a nice holiday."
She paused for a moment. “So much has happened. I want to run it by Phoebe. I don’t want Christmas to be any more difficult for her than it already is.”
“Okay. Call me in the morning and let me know what you two would like to do.”
“I will. Thank you, for looking out for us.”
“You do it for me every day Lisa.” I responded. “You do it for me every day.”
The next morning Lisa confirmed that she and Phoebe would be coming to spend the holidays with me. She said they would like to fly up on the following Saturday if that could be arranged. I spent the morning sitting in the dining room with my coffee making flight reservations. I was excited at the prospect of not spending the holidays alone. I reserved two first class seats for them on a mid-morning flight. I wanted this holiday to be something they would always remember. I found myself feeling hopeful that a new deadline, getting the first three chapters of the next book written by the time they arrived would wake my muse and get book eleven on a slow but steady trek to the next Book Boyfriends Holiday Romance.
Over the next several days I arranged for a rental car much like my own and found better driving directions from the airport to the house for Lisa. While I waited for Lisa’s shipment to arrive I decided to give my current book boyfriend one more try.
This time I took my two book boyfriends and flipped the script. New boyfriend eleven was a small town sheriff who coached at risk kids at the local jr high school in his spare time. He was handsome, quick witted and funny also physically fit and tough enough that the kids he worked with only attempted to try his authority occasionally. Book boyfriend eleven made time for everyone. As so it goes in everyday life, something has to fall through the cracks and for our sheriff it was mealtime. Which is where our heroine comes in. She owns the local diner. One that always seems to be open to him. She has a knack for steering her regular customers to a more varied diet and better nutrition in general keeping high salt and deep fried menu options to a minimum. The two characters’ need to care for others and their love for rich desserts was their common ground.
After a week of planning, shopping, hiking (okay taking long walks), making lists of things to show Lisa and Phoebe and writing, glorious writing, it happened again.
On Friday morning at 10:30 am at location 3-6-5 my beautiful new holiday romance came to a sudden and screeching halt.
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