RaeAnne Thayne - Snowfall On Haven Point

“How is he doing?” Andie asked gently.

One of those tears slipped out and slid down her friend’s cheek and she brushed it away with an impatient hand. “His mother’s dead and his father wants nothing to do with him. He’s stuck living in a new town he hates with his boring old grandparents who have never raised a boy and don’t know how to talk to him. He hates school, hates his teachers, hates doing homework. He’s made a few friends, but...” Her voice trailed off.

“But?”

“I’m not sure they’re the nicest young people. They seem to run wild at all hours of the day and night, with no parental supervision that I can see.”

Louise seemed so disheartened that Andie couldn’t help giving her a little hug.

“He’ll make it through this. Please don’t worry. Time is the great healer. It’s a truism because it’s just that—true. That’s all he needs. He’s got you and Herm, two of the very best people I know. That’s far more than many children have in similar circumstances.”

Certainly more than Andie had known. Oh, how she wished she could have had someone like Louise in her life, someone sweet and kind and welcoming.

“He’s a good boy,” Louise said, wiping away another tear. “He’s just so angry all the time.”

Andie remembered that anger after her own mother died, along with confusion and fear and overwhelming grief. Puberty was tough enough, all raging hormones and intensified emotions. The loss of a parent made that transitional time that much harder, even when the parent hadn’t been the best a kid could ask for.

“I’m sorry,” Louise said after a moment. “You didn’t come here to listen to my problems.”

“That’s what friends do.”

“How are you these days?”

She would much rather talk about Louise’s problems, any day of the week. She knew what was behind the question. Everyone in Haven Point knew about the incident over the summer when the situation she had tried to escape by moving here from Portland had caught up with her, when she had been held at gunpoint by the man who had raped her the previous year, then stalked her for months.

Andie was doing her best to move beyond her past so she could work toward building a new future with her children here. She knew Louise’s question was offered in kindness, but she really didn’t want to talk about Rob Warren and the hell he had put her through.

“Everything’s great,” she said, pinning on a bright smile. “I’m really looking forward to Christmas in Haven Point. I can’t imagine a prettier place to spend the holiday. It’s perfect.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” Louise smiled softly. “The lake seems to change colors every day with the shifting winter light.”

“It must be fun to paint it this time of year.”

“It is.” Distracted, Louise looked down at her watercolors and Andie hoped she was thinking about taking her paints out to the water’s edge to try capturing that stunning blue.

Andie had taken to carrying her camera on her morning snowshoe walks along the river, catching birds flitting through winter-bare branches, the delicate filigree of ice along the riverbanks, the play of sunlight reflecting on the snow and filtering through the fringy pine boughs.

She had found peace here over the last few months, a calm she had needed desperately.

“I saw in the paper that our neighbor next door had an accident of some kind,” Louise said.

Now, there was someone who didn’t give her peace. Marshall Bailey. “Yes. He was struck by a hit-and-run driver a few days ago and ended up with a badly broken leg.”

“Oh, the poor man! Charlene must be having fits!”

“I don’t think Marshall wants his mother to know until she and Mike return from their honeymoon.”

Louise gave an approving nod. “Good decision. Why give her needless worry?”

“I agree.”

“So who’s watching over him?”

Andie raised her hand. “Well, I don’t know that I’d go as far as to say I’m watching over him. Wyn just asked me to check on him a few times a day. I’m heading there after I pick Will up from preschool.”

She felt too foolish to add that she wanted her son to come along as a buffer. “It would be helpful if you and Herm would keep an eye on things, too.”

“Oh, of course. We would be glad to do that. His mother is one of my dearest friends, though she pulled away a little after poor John had his accident.” She paused. “Do you think Marshall would enjoy some of my shortbread? I made plenty.”

“I’m sure he would. I can take it to him, if you’d like.”

“Thank you! Let me find a container.”

She bustled around the kitchen for a moment and ended up producing two tins printed with smiling families of snowmen.

“Here you go. A box for him and one for you and your children, if you’d care for it.”

“Oh, thank you! They will love it.”

These kind little gestures neighbors did for each other here always warmed her heart. She had enjoyed living in Portland. It was a beautiful, vibrant town filled with interesting people, restaurants, shops. But in all the years she had lived there after striking out on her own, it had never really felt as much like home as Haven Point, even though she and the children had been here less than six months.

She glanced at the whimsical owl clock on the wall. “I should go. Will is going to be done soon from preschool. I don’t know where the time went!”

“I’m so glad we had the chance to visit a little. You made me feel a little better.”

“I’m glad.” She hugged Louise, then slid her friend’s lovely collection of watercolors into the portfolio she had provided. “And thank you so much for these. I can’t wait to show them to my clients.”

“I do hope they like them,” Louise said again, her expression anxious.

“How could they not? They’re stunning. You really need to have a show, more than just the few you’ve given Kenzie to hang in the shop. You should think about talking to the owner of that new art gallery that just opened up downtown.”

“Me? Oh, I could never do that! I only paint for fun.”

“Think about it, my dear.” She slid her arms in the sleeves of her coat and headed for the front door. As she neared the stairs, she heard loud, discordant rock music coming from upstairs, then a crash followed by a string of crude vulgarities.

Louise’s cheeks turned pink. “That boy! I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry on my account, Louise. He’s a teenage boy going through a rough time right now. A little creative expression is only to be expected.”

She hugged her friend one more time, then walked out of her house with the portfolio under one arm and the tins of cookies nestled in the crook of the other.

She took a few steps toward home, then paused and turned back to the house next to Louise’s. She could check on Marshall now. Will wouldn’t be out of preschool for another half hour.

Why couldn’t she stop now, drop off the cookies, check to make sure the man was doing all right and then be on her way?

Yes, he made her nervous and she didn’t really want to be alone with him. Or any man, really. Maybe that was all the more reason to push herself into it. While he was big and rough and intimidating, he was also relatively helpless at the moment. This would be a good test for her.

After what had happened the day before, she wasn’t in a big rush to surprise him, so she texted quickly as she headed next door.

Can I stop by now?

His answer was so succinct, she had to smile.

Why?

Homemade shortbread, she texted back.

His answer in reply made her smile turn into an actual laugh. Door’s open.

Apparently Wyn hadn’t been joking about his sweet tooth.