Forever This Time (18 page)

Josie looked down at the napkin she'd inadvertently started stripping into pieces. “I guess it just seemed … right. Given … everything.”

“So you focus on kids?”

“More the families
of
the kids. Moms, mostly.”

“Why not kids?” Ethan's eyes met hers, and for a moment Josie felt like they were orbiting in the same universe again.

Then she broke his gaze.

Because kids … kids kill me inside, that's why.

She shook her head. “You—um—jumped your question. It's my turn. Tell me one thing that's really changed in town.”

“There's a new drugstore on the corner of Main Street where the old creamery was.”

“Not buildings. Tell me something
real
that's changed.”

There was a long pause as his eyes searched hers. “What answer are you hoping to hear, Josie?”

Then he sighed as he turned back toward the television over the bar.

“What if nothing really has?”

 

Chapter 18

At practically dawn the next morning, Ike's ice truck chugged into the parking lot and through the service gate, stopping at the shed with the big walk-in freezers. Josie had the shed doors open already, but the only reason her
eyes
were open this early was because she'd had to unearth her old bike at dawn, find a pump for the flat tires, and then pedal the five miles to Snowflake Village. After an awkward burger at Bellinis last night, Ethan had dropped her off at her parents' house with a quick wave and a
See ya tomorrow.

She hadn't slept.

“Mornin', Sunshine!” Ike hopped down from the cab, his springy step belying his seventy-five years as he wrapped her in a bear hug that threatened to cut off an airway or two. “It is
some
good to see you, girl!”

“You too, Ike. Thanks for coming out this early.”

Josie held out a coffee mug full of dark brew from Ethan's Keurig. She figured if he wasn't going to help with the ice, he could at least provide the coffee.

“Want some coffee?”

Ike took it. “You betcha.” He took a swig, then set the mug on the stone wall and opened the back doors of the truck, hopping in like a much younger man. “So how's your dad doing?”

Josie set down her mug as well, then turned to catch the first bag of ice Ike threw down, stacking it on a handcart she'd dragged out from the shed. “He's—” How
was
he, really? “I don't know, Ike. He's taking his sweet time waking up. It's—scary.”

“Well, these things can take time. Anybody tell you about my sister?”

“I don't think so.” She pulled the ice into the shed and stacked the bags into the walk-in freezer, then came back out for more. “Is she okay?”

“Is now. Had herself a stroke, too. Took her sweet time, too, just like your dad. But one day, she opens up her eyes and says,
What's everybody fussin' about?
”

“Seriously?” Josie hauled another load into the freezer.

“Dead serious.”

“And she really was okay?”

“Yep. That was six years ago. Last I talked to her, she was heading out dancing—said not to call her too early in case she had too many martinis.” He shook his head. “Think we'll get this all unloaded before the park opens?”

“How much did you bring?”

“Five hundred bags.”

Josie felt her eyes go wide. “Five
hundred
?” On the hottest day of the year, they probably used two hundred, absolute tops. Or at least they used to. But she couldn't very well say that, not after he'd gotten up at the crack of dawn and loaded his truck full of ice for her.

“That's what fits in the truck. And I figured if you called, you must be in pretty dire straits.”

Josie wiped her sleeve across her forehead. “I'm pretty sure five hundred will get us through till at least noon, Ike.”

An hour later, Josie grunted as she tossed the last bag to the top of the freezer. The temperature outside had risen at least fifteen degrees already, and alternating between the freezer and the sizzling pavement was making her dizzy. She could tell her hair was rocking some serious frizz, and her polo shirt was sticking to her in all the wrong places. She wondered if she had time to run home for a shower … then remembered she'd have to do it on her bike.

Never mind.

She locked the freezer door and went outside once again, only to find Ethan leaning on the ice truck talking with Ike, a funny smile on his face.

She picked up her coffee, now lukewarm. “Well, good morning, Ethan. Your timing is exquisite.”

The tiny dimple in his right cheek made an appearance as he looked her up and down.
Great.
She must look even more frightful than she imagined.

“Nice work,” he said.

“You're welcome. I get time and a half for this, right?”

“Absolutely. I'll pay you double what you're currently making.”

Ike stepped toward Ethan, scratching his pen on a metal clipboard. He ripped off the invoice and handed it to him with a smile. “Appreciate your business. Nice to have a chance to come by.”

“Thanks, Ike. Good to see you again.”

Josie felt her eyebrows draw together. “Why are you two talking like you never see each other?”

“Well, we don't as much anymore.” Ike cocked his head. “Not since Ethan finally convinced your dad to get one of them industrial ice-makers. Which was fine with me, because these old bones don't agree so much with crack-of-dawn deliveries anymore.”

Ike looked at Ethan. “You got someone coming out to fix it?”

Ethan pressed his lips together, but Josie could see the corners creeping up. “It's not broken, actually.”

Ike put his hands on his hips. “Then why in tarnation am I out here at six o'clock in the morning bringing you a load of five hundred bags of ice?”

“You brought five hundred bags?”

“That's what the truck holds.” Ike looked completely mystified, but Josie felt steam building behind her eyes.

Ethan turned to her. “Wow, Jos. That's a lot of ice. And you hauled it all in there yourself?”

“We. Have. An
ice machine
?”

Ethan nodded, pointing into the shed. “It's that big black thing next to the freezers.”

“And it's working just fine?”

“Mm-hm.”

“And you heard me on the phone with Ike yesterday.”

“Yep.”

“Ordering
ice
.”

“Yep.”

“Which you knew we didn't need. And that I was going to be hauling at oh-dark-thirty this morning.”

“That was kind of the best part.”

Josie clenched her hands into fists. “You are such an—”

Ike tried to cover his mouth, but a chortle escaped before he could catch it. “Oh boy. I think I'm gonna be going now.” He climbed into the cab of his truck and leaned out the window. “Now, Josie. You know my number if you need more ice. I'll be back later to tow your Jeep to the garage.” He slapped the door, laughing, as he chugged back down the pathway.

Josie turned on Ethan. “I cannot believe you let me order ice, when you knew we had plenty already here.”

“Well, you were all fired up playing Miss Problem Solver, so what was I to say? You're the boss's daughter, after all.” He sipped his coffee, raising his eyebrows in challenge. “Who was I to question you?”

“Jerk.”

“I prefer opportunist.” He turned toward the administration building. “I might need you to work some overtime, though, to pay off all that ice.”

*   *   *

At eight o'clock Ben's voice came over the handheld radio on Ethan's desk, but Josie was the only one in the office. She was still trying to cool down, both physically
and
figuratively.

She grabbed the radio and pressed the button to talk. “Hey, Ben. It's Josie.”

“Well, Twinkle-toes. Ethan finally letting you in the office?”

“Not by choice, I'm afraid.”

“Good for you. He'll adjust. So I need a favor, actually.”

“Name it.”

“I'm stuck out here trying to get that new part into the Twinkle Fairy, and I need somebody to do the upper rounds before we open. You remember how?”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Turn 'em on, make sure nothing falls apart, give the thumbs-up?”

“Yep.” He chuckled. “That's about it.”

“I think I can handle that.”

“Good to have you back, hon. Over ‘n' out.”

Half an hour later, when she'd checked all the rides except the Ferris wheel, Josie took a deep breath, looking up the hill toward its gleaming red, white, and green seats. She couldn't avoid it any longer. The park couldn't open until all rides had been cleared for takeoff, and that meant she needed to walk up the hill, unlock the controls, and run the wheel around a few times to make sure all was well. There was no way around it.

She started up the hill, but didn't make it more than five steps before she had to stop, her heart racing like a hummingbird's.

Dammit, when was she going to be able to do this?

Before Avery, it had been her favorite ride. For most of her childhood, she'd been the first one on and the last one off, every single day. Ben had made sure of it.

*   *   *

“Ready, Twinkle-toes?” Ben clanked the bar into place across her eight-year-old body in the fading twilight.

“Ready, Captain.”

“I'll need a full report this evening.”

“Got it.”

“Moon position, star count, number of cars at the bowling alley. It's league night.”

“I'm on it.” Josie saluted, then checked her pink watch. “Is the train coming through tonight?”

“Yup. Passenger one this time.”

“Where's it going?” She knew, but always asked.

“Boston and New York City, m'dear.” He made his voice sound like a conductor. “Boston and New York.”

“Will you take me to the city someday, Ben?”

“Absolutely. We'll do a Red Sox game.”

“And a duck tour!”

“Whatever you want, honey. But y'know what? I think you'll probably take your
self
there before I'll get a chance.”

“It wouldn't be as fun without you.”

“That's nice of you to say.”

She frowned. “Daddy thinks I'm going to be a Snow Princess and stay here forever and ever.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Time will tell.” Ben stepped back and touched the lever. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“I'll be right down here when you're ready to come down.”

“I know, Ben. You're always here.”

“You just remember that, young lady.” Josie saw him look away quickly before he pulled on the lever and sent her to the top of the world. “You just remember that.”

*   *   *

Josie shook her head as she pulled her radio off her waist and called for Ben. She couldn't do it.

She wasn't sure she'd
ever
be able to do it.

*   *   *

“What's the emergency?” At one o'clock that afternoon, Josie peeked in the backstage door of the live theater, where five teenagers were scurrying around pulling on costumes and grabbing props. One of them had just called the admin office and asked her to come over immediately.

“Ryan's a no-show.” A reindeer with a bright red clown nose turned toward Josie. “And we're on in five!”

“Who's Ryan? And why did you guys call
me
?”

“Ryan's the Table Elf. Ethan told us to call you. He said you could be our special guest substitute. And plus, we're desperate!”

Josie growled internally as she slowly pulled her body through the door. First the ice, and now she had to sub for an AWOL teenage actor? On a stage that had dumped her into a timpani twelve years ago?

“Here.” Santa tossed her an elf suit. “You sit stage left on the stool.”

“You have
got
to be kidding me.” Josie held up the costume. “Have we not updated
any
of the costumes in the past ten years?”

“Sorry, Miss Kendrew. It's all we have that'll fit you. The Snow Princess dress is already being used.”

Was it Josie's imagination, or was Santa smirking?

“I thought we never used—never mind.” She dodged behind a changing screen and pulled on the costume. “It's okay. I can do this. I've done the elf thing. Do I have lines?”

“We taped them to the floor by your stool.”

“Thank you. That was very thoughtful.” Josie pulled the hat over her head, which sent her curls sproinging out the bottom edges like an upside-down cupcake. Her straightening iron was turning out to be little match for this week's Vermont-style humidity.

Santa grimaced and came closer, pointing at her hair. “Can you tuck in your hair? You're supposed to be a guy.”

“You see that I'm trying, right?”

Dammit. For every curl she got tucked in, two more sprung out.

“But you have to flirt with the Door Elf, and she's a girl.”

“Maybe you'd like to call Ethan back here and put
him
in the costume, then?”

Santa turned toward the stage. “No. We're good. It's all good.”

Josie looked in the mirror mounted on the wall and made a vain attempt at tucking in her hair, but not before she heard Santa whisper, “It's gonna be a disaster.”

The Snow Princess looked back. “At least there's no timpani.”