Page 12 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

Cursing loudly, I went to the kitchen to find some ice to suck on. When I sunk back into the couch, I pulled a blanket over my body and around my shoulders. I wouldnotlet him get to me.

There was no reason to care what my neighbor thought.

Though he was not just my neighbor. He was also my best friend’s husband’s best friend. I sank deeper into the cushions with the thick knitted blanket as I realized the inevitable: we’d have a lot more social situations with him if he lived here now.

Notifhe lived here. He obviously did.

Butwhy?

I’d surely have to face him again, but not anytime soon. It was freezing outside, so I wouldn’t see him out there. And Mari and Terry were still on their honeymoon, so I wouldn’t get roped into any awkward social situations with them.

Until then, I’d hole up in here and be productive. I was used to not having a neighbor, other than Doris down the road, so I’ll just … pretend I still don’t.

*****

Avoiding interactions with my grumpy neighbor turned out to be easy. It was a colder February than usual, so I had no desire to step outside, apart from getting the mail. I was working out at home these days, as I hated the crowded gym in January and February of every year, when New Year’s resolutions were fresh.

Avoidingseeingmy grumpy neighbor was not so easy though. He was apparently a walker, as I saw him taking an outdoor walk every afternoon. When I’d first moved in here months ago, I’d arranged my writing desk in front of my living room window with a view of the road and the thickly wooded area in the distance. For weeks, I’d enjoyed the pleasant view, the sun appearing to warm the frigid landscape, rolling hills, and forest. But now, I sawhim. Every day, he was out there walking, even when it was well below zero.

I had to admit to being surprised. I wouldn’t have pegged him for the daily walking type. He seemed more like a runner or maybe even a triathlete, probably a competitive one because he seemed like that type. Not that I disliked runners—I’d had some great friends who were also marathoners, but the ones I’d dated happened to be jerks.

I sighed, looking at the mess on all the kitchen countertops. I’d had a bit of writer’s block this week, leading meto bake. A lot. Fortunately, I had a deep freezer to store excess treats. And a well-stocked pantry, so I didn’t often run out of things. I’d managed to avoid leaving the house for the past week. And … I should’ve felt good about that.

Avoiding the jerk next door was my goal, and I’d succeeded. Mostly, if I didn’t count the grumbling to myself when he walked by each day.

Yet I didn’t feel great. A sense of something—not quite loneliness, but similar. A sense of restlessness and dissatisfaction. I’d never stayed home and seenno onefor this long before. All my life, I’d been on the go, whether moving around with my family growing up, being a busy working college student, or traveling for work. Just staying put felt uncomfortable. Maybe it was just new. Like all things, I’d get used to it.

I sighed as I finished wiping the counter and looked around for the broom, which I knew I’d left out after yesterday’s similarly messy kitchen adventures.

But I was saved from further cleanup by a phone call. Well, more precisely, a video call. I smiled when Mariana’s face flashed on the screen.

“Haz! You answered, and you’re home! I’m so glad.” Her hair was in a ponytail—which I’d never seen before—and she removed her sunglasses to reveal bright eyes.

I tilted my head and scrunched my eyebrows together. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you’re just so busy, rarely at home, you know?”

“Oh … right.” Yeah, that was my former life. “New Hazel is a bit of a homebody, I’m afraid. Even more in the last week because you wouldneverbelieve—” My words faded as Mariana moved over to make room for Terry in the camera view. “Oh, hi Terry.” I forced a smile. “I got to say, honeymoon looks good on you two.”

I watched her cheeks redden, and she snuck a smile in Terry’s direction.

“I have to agree. I mean, look at her … my wife. She’s gorgeous,” he said with a grin and a side glance toward Mari.

Feeling like a third wheel, I grinned back and gave an awkward thumbs up.

Mari’s brows furrowed slightly. “Hazel, how are you doing?”

“I am great,” I hurriedly reassured them both, my eyes going back and forth between them. “It’s been so wonderful having some time to write and just … be.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” she said, with an expression that didn’t quite look happy. “So you’ve written a lot then?”

I nodded. “Mm-hmm. Every day.” Never mind that some days it was only, like, a sentence or two.

A smile played at Terry’s lips. “Doing a lot of baking?”

“As a matter of fact—” I halted, seeing Mari’s expression. Sheepishly, I asked, “So, even Terry knows I stress-bake?”

“And sad-bake and angry-bake and procrastinate-bake and—”

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