Be Sweet (11 page)

“Do we have to make the syrup by tonight?”

“We have to run the evaporator as soon as possible, because the sap can spoil, same as milk. But once the water is evaporated from the syrup, we can stop until tomorrow.”

Janni jumps in, breath heaving as though she hasn't walked this much in a month of Sundays. “The good news is several of our friends have called and will be coming at various times this morning. We should be able to empty the bags and get to the Sugar Shack fairly quickly. Then there are several who have offered to work second shift throughout the syrup process, so I'm relieved.”

“Oh, that's great,” I say, pushing away the twitch of envy that springs up every time I see or hear about her throng of friends. Same friends she's always had. Lifelong friends. She's the one with the good life.

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Stephanie says.

Blake's shoulders rear back, and he gives a studly smile. “Oh, don't worry, we'll have plenty of help. Plus, Ethan and I know the ropes. We'll be done in time to go out for pizza.” He tosses Stephanie a wink. She stares at him as though she's met his kind before.

With great effort I force myself to slow my fast clip and walk at the same pace as the others. After weaving our way through a maze of shag-bark hickories, oak, fir, and beech trees, we finally come to our first maple, where we all gather, waiting for Daniel to show up with the truck. How many times did I wander out here with Eddie where we talked and dreamed of our future together?

A hum of chitchat joins with birdsong and the lone cry of a train whistle in the distance.

My cell phone rings. In the heart of the forest, it seems almost sacrilegious. Quiet chatter continues in the background when I answer. “Hello?”

“How's my best girl?”

That little phrase is starting to irritate me. “Hi, Peter.”

“Oh, that was enthusiastic.”

“Sorry. We're ready to work on the trees.”

“Sounds serious.”

“You remember the pancakes and maple syrup I made you? It
is
serious.”

“Oh yeah. Do you have any of that left around here?”

“Are you at my house?” That idea bugs me a little bit, though I should be happy. He's probably cleaning. Maybe I should tell him about the empty cookie box I stuffed under my bed.

“Yeah, I left my suit coat over here. I came back to get it.”

“Oh.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong.”
Just get out of my house, please.

“Well, I wanted to check in and see how you're doing. The office isn't the same without you. The sales are down.” He laughs, but his little comment reminds me once again that someone wants me for what I can do for them.

Before I can work up a good comeback, Daniel pulls up in his black, rusty truck. It's seen a lot of sap seasons. The engine stops. Hard metal crunches against metal as the driver's door opens and Daniel climbs out. But when the passenger door squeaks open, the scene seems to play out in slow motion. Dressed in jeans, slick leather boots, and a thick, black winter jacket, Russ steps out, taking long strides in our direction. Light shines on his hair and glistens in his eyes, while his hands are stuffed deep in the pockets of his jacket.

He's a lean, mean, macho machine.

“Charlene, you still there?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm here.”

Russ moves within earshot. “I miss you, too, Peter,” I say as loud as I dare. Russ's eyes meet mine. I smile, wave, then turn around. Doesn't hurt to let Russ know others are interested in me.

“Huh? I miss you too.” Peter sounds confused. It's not the first time.

“Well, listen, I need to go. We're getting ready to collect the sap. Make sure you lock my door when you leave.” He's a fanatic about leaving things the way he found them, so I know I don't need to say that. It bugs me that he still has my spare key. I gave it to him when I got tied up in a house closing so he could get preparations started for a company gathering we were having. I'd forgotten about it until now.

“I'll take care of it. Talk to you soon.”

Taking a deep breath, I stand with my back turned to the group. Russ looks good, too good. I refuse to let my heart get tangled up that way again.

Though Peter is starting to bug me, our current arrangement works. My heart stays out of the mix. And I aim to keep my heart safe from now on, even if it kills me.

“Hi, Charley.” Russ's earthy-scented cologne reaches me before he does.

One look into his warm blue eyes, and I figure I'd better get to work on my epitaph.

“Seems we keep bumping into each other.” A nervous laugh follows. I think it's mine, but it could have come from Russ. I'm a little dis-oriented, so I'm not sure.

“How did you manage to get off work today?”

“My patient list is just getting up and running. We're a small office. Dad's covering things today. He knew Janni and Daniel needed help.”

It seems everyone comes to their rescue. We follow the others to the tapped trees where we start emptying the bags into a couple of big buckets. The smell of the bark, the woods, the sap, all bring a flood of memories of our family working and laughing together as we made the syrup. Funny how I'd forgotten the good memories.

Russ lifts the bag from a tree and dumps the clear liquid into a big bucket.

When we were kids, Dad used to put metal buckets instead of plastic bags on the trees to collect the sap. Janni and I hated cleaning the sticky sap from those buckets, so Dad would bribe us with maple cookies. Seemed as though those cookies could take the sting out of most anything. Thankfully, these days we only use the buckets for transferring the sap.

I take a deep breath. “Listen, about the coffee shop—”

“Forget it. I understand completely.”

“You do?”

“I went to the same high school, remember?”

The fact that he understands, and remembers their loose tongues, melts me in a way I hadn't expected.

“So was that your boyfriend?”

“Who?” I walk over to the next tree and lift the bag to empty.

“On the phone—oh, never mind. It's none of my business.”

How can I explain what Peter is to me when I don't know myself? “We're good friends more than anything.”

More of Janni's friends soon join us in the woods and start dumping bags of sap into the buckets.

“So, Russ, do you have any children?” Why did I ask that? I need to keep this on a friendship level. Nothing personal.

He shakes his head. “Timing was never right. All the military moves. You know how it is. How about you? Did you and Eddie have any children?”

I shake my head. “We lost one. Never had any after that.” We take a few steps. “'Course, you probably know Linda and Eddie have a daughter.”

“Yeah, I saw Linda and her little girl at the grocery together when I first moved to town.”

While we work our way through the trees, pouring the sap from the bags into gathering pails, we talk a little bit about the military, his parents, and his dental business.

“You don't mind settling down in Tappery?” The air is filled with the hum of people talking, sharp footsteps thumping against the hard ground, liquid pouring into buckets. Lifting a heavy bag of sap from the tree, I bend over to dump it in the bucket.

Russ laughs. A deep, rich laugh, masculine and strong. “You find it hard to believe that anyone would willingly do that?”

With a shrug I say, “Just figured since you traveled with the military, you'd probably want a more exciting place to live, that's all.”

He looks around at the trees and takes a deep breath. “Actually, it doesn't get much better than this.” Then he turns to me and smiles, making my heart skip a beat. “In fact, I was kind of hoping you could help me come up with a floor plan for a new house.”

With curiosity, I look at him. “You're thinking of building?”

“Yeah.”

“How fun.” Excitement always rushes through me when I think of building a home. Though I sell mostly commercial property now, I've always thought it would be fun to help people build homes. “Well, I'm not an expert, but I'd be happy to give you some ideas.”

“Great. Janni told me you like to make sketches of floor plans, so I thought maybe you could come up with some sketches for me, and we can go over them together.”

Something about the way he says “together” causes my heart to flutter.

“Sure. You'll need to give me a list of what you want in a home, and we can go from there.” I lift a plastic bag off the next tree and prepare to dump it into the bucket.

“Listen, Charley, I wanted to get alone with you this morning because—”

His lips keep moving, but suddenly I can't hear a thing. It's like watching an episode of
Mr. Ed
on TV without sound. I just can't get past the I-wanted-to-get-alone-with-you thing. Russ's big, strong hands move about as he explains whatever it is he's explaining.

“Charley? Look out!”

The sharp tone of his voice brings me back to my senses, and I look down to see that I've missed the bucket and dumped the sap all over my Nikes.

Instead of moving into action, I stand there as though I'm in a den-tist's office sucking novocaine. By the time I remember to move my feet, I've formed roots. The sap holds me firmly in place. As in, just stick a spile in my mouth and hang a plastic bag.

People around me smother laughs. The kids say, “Ew,” which helps immensely.

“Are you all right?” Russ asks, pulling on my arm to help me move. A schlepping sound akin to the sucking of a plunger ensues, and with each step I attempt to take, Russ has to pluck my foot off the ground to keep me moving. That's one way to slow me down.

Every leaf within a three-mile radius attaches itself to my shoes. I'm a leaf vacuum without the vacuum part. If I ran a few laps through the woods, this place would shine like the picnic area of a state park.

Suddenly the image of how I must look hits me in full force. I'm picturing
Babes in Toyland
with the talking trees. I start laughing—so hard that I can't move. I just wobble. Like Humpty Dumpty—with hair. That thought alone sets me into another fit of laughter. Maybe it's the stress of the visit. Maybe it's seeing Gail, Linda, and Russ. Maybe it's the sap, or just that I'm worried about sprouting leaves, or that if I stick out my arms, birds will build nests. All I know is humiliation and me go together like pancakes and syrup.

And I'm laughing, why?

Blake turns and points to me. He starts laughing and soon Russ and the other kids join in a full-scale heehaw. In no time at all, the whole woods are alive with laughter.

When it finally dies down, Janni says, “I'll go up to the house and bring out some warm water to pour over your feet and pants so you can get them off.”

With a fading chuckle, I nod. Then Russ and I walk toward the house in silence. Well, all except for the schlepping sound.

“Listen, this probably isn't the right time, but I may never get you to hold still long enough any other time.”

I want to stop and stare at him, but I'm afraid I'll become a habitat for Chip and Dale—I'm talking chipmunks here, just so you know.

“I'm going nowhere fast this time.” My voice has a half-tease, half-growl to it. I glance at the trail of footprints I've left behind. With every step my shoes have ripped bits of grass up by the roots.

“Did you hear me?”

I blink. “What? Oh, sorry, no. It's the sap and everything—” I lift a foot for emphasis and sap drips from the edges of my shoe.

Frustration flickers on his face. Who can blame him? “What I was saying, well, I'm sorry about you and Eddie and Linda, all that—”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Not the most impressive vocabulary lineup, but there it is.

“Okay, the water is out in the tub. Just a few more yards, Char, and you'll make it,” Janni says, as though I'm trying to swim the English Channel. She steps to the other side of me and, noticing our silence, says, “Am I interrupting something?”

Russ blows out a sigh and obviously gives up on the meaningful conversation. But I mean, honestly, how deep can we get at a time like this?

He lifts a slight smile. “No, that's all right,” he says. Then he turns and whispers to me. “Maybe if I get lucky, you'll be my partner this afternoon.”

I'll admit Russ is handsome and charming, but I'm not interested in a relationship. If that's his goal, he's barking up the wrong tree.

With the extra help, we are able to get down to the
Sugar Shack in record time.

Russ and the boys chop firewood to keep the heat under the evaporator going. That's the highlight for me. I love the smell of burning wood. To this day the crackle and scent of burning wood makes me want to curl up in a corner with a good book—or eat pancakes.

Janni turns to Stephanie and Candy. “My job is to make sure the sap doesn't scorch or overflow. As you can see, it runs from this preheater pan down through the maze of the evaporator.” Together we watch the sap slowly filling the main evaporator. “Once it's hot enough, it will flow into the lower evaporator pan, where it stays until it reaches the proper density.”

“That's where I come in,” I say. “I then check the thermometer to make sure it reaches seven degrees above boiling and test the density with the hydrometer.” I lift the fragile glass tube so they can see what it looks like. “Once it's ready, I open the spigot so it falls into the bucket.” I show them the spigot.

“Then Char and I both pour the syrup from the bucket into cone filters that are in this bigger tub where the sugar sand, niter, or calcium deposits—whatever you want to call it—are removed. Then the syrup is pumped into a finishing pan that is fired with propane gas.” Janni turns to me. “Hopefully, we'll have some help with this part after today, so we can keep our minds focused on one task.”