Page 9 of Joy to Noel
Looking at my surroundings on the phone map, I scout a running route. After downing a glass of water and refreshing Hamlet’s water dish, I put in earbuds and head out the door, tucking the key into the pocket of my joggers.
Thirty minutes later, I slow to a jog as I reenter the cabin grounds. There’s certainly something to be said for beginning the morning with a quiet run through the trees along a riverbank. Far more relaxing than dodging countless other runners on city sidewalks. I’m walking slow circles in front of my cabin to cool down when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.
Removing my earbuds, I turn to see a petite woman marching toward me. Her long, brown ponytail swishes back and forth behind her as she approaches, a determined expression on her face. She stops infront of me, the top of her head just reaching my chin. Tilting her head back to meet my eyes, she holds out a hand.
“Hi, I’m Madison Wheeler,” she states. “I figured if we’re going to be living a few yards away from each other for the foreseeable future, I may as well introduce myself right away.”
I meet her outstretched hand with mine and say, “Liam Park. Nice to meet you, Madison.” As our hands drop from the handshake, I can’t help but run my eyes over Madison in a quick but thorough appraisal. She can’t be more than 5’3” since I’m only 6’0”, but she carries herself with the presence of a 5’10” woman wearing four-inch heels. The flecks of honey-gold in her light brown eyes seem charged with energy as she tilts her chin up.
“So, you’re the corporate know-it-all the bigwigs sent to fix up the pet food factory, huh?” Madison says as her eyes run a similar assessment over my physical stature. My lips twitch in a half-smile at her straightforward comment.
I play along. “Corporate know-it-all, at your service. And what exactly is the story of why you’re staying in a tiny cabin for the foreseeable future? Glamping addict? Social recluse? Leader of the tiny house movement out to show the rest of us the error of our materialistic ways?”
She rolls her eyes in a way that indicates she’s not offended—she’s stepping up to the verbal challenge. My smirk grows, and I crack my neck as she inhales oxygen to fuel her response.
“While Iama huge proponent of minimalistic living, I’m also a realist when it comes to modern necessities.” After scanning me head to toe once more, she adds, “Although, I have a feeling I’ll have some thoughts to share about the number of suits you own.”
I lick my lips and tilt my head to one side. “I’m wearing athletic clothes. How could you possibly make that kind of assumption?” I make a mental note to move more of my suits up to the loft in case she ever comes inside my cabin.
Madison motions toward my face. “It’s the haircut. And your whole vibe.” The corners of her lips turn up slightly as she teases, “Along with the fact that you’re a corporate business guy currently wearing luxury workout gear.”
I hide the fact that I’m impressed by her perceptive assessment. “Maybe I simply appreciate quality over quantity.”
She arches one of her striking eyebrows, holding my stare. My smirk turns into a reluctant smile. “And maybe I like suits.”
Madison snaps her fingers and points at me with a sly smile of her own. I turn the conversation back around. “You never answered the question though. Whyareyou living in a tiny cabin?”
The light in her gold-flecked eyes dims the slightest bit. “I’m afraid I’m a total cliché,” she answers on a sigh. “I’m here to rediscover myself, or whatever dramatic phrase they’re calling it these days when your world falls apart and you’re forced to reassess the meaning of life.”
My expression softens in proportion to the dimmer switch in her eyes. “I’m sorry things fell apart.” She shrugs and looks away. I stoke the fire back into her spirit. “Not sure exactly why you chose backwoods Arkansas to do your self-rediscovery, but to each her own, I suppose.”
Her eyes flash back to mine, gold flecks rejuvenated. “I’ll have you know that Noel is a very special town.” Now I quirk an eyebrow at her, and she takes a small step closer. “My best friend saved this town from extinction and fell in love with the people here in the process. By proxy, I love them too. So watch yourself, Mr. Exec.”
I close the space between us with my own small step forward, forcing her to tilt her head back further in order to maintain that fiery eye contact. “I’d argue that Pure Fur All saved this town from extinction. But you’re entitled to your opinion.”
Madison narrows her eyes andtsks. “You have so much to learn about Noel. I’m kinda excited that I get a front row seat to your education.” The smile lines at the corners of her eyes crinkle as she gives a warm smile tinged with a drop of evil grin. “It was nice to meet you, Liam. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
As she whirls around to walk back to her cabin, I call out after her. “Good luck with the journey of self-discovery.”
She waves a hand in the air without looking back. I may be salty about being back in Arkansas, but at least I have someone to make my time here interesting.
Chapter six
Madison
How is it that one inch of movement can make your muscles feel like they’re ripping apart? Let me tell you—barre class instructors have somehow figured out that answer.
My legs tremble uncontrollably as I will myself to finish the final ten seconds of plié pulses. Clara maintains her perfect posture on the other side of the portable barre set up in her living room. Either her time training at ballet school created lifelong muscle memory, or I am more out of shape than I thought.
I’m sure muscle memory is the more scientific explanation.
When the instructor on the videofinallygives the cue to extend our legs and stretch, I lean my full weight against the barre. “Remind me again why we like this torture,” I command Clara, focusing my full energy on stretching the pain out of my quads.
“Because both of us hate running, and you got tired of men hitting on you at the gym,” Clara answers as she gracefully balances on one leg and pulls her other foot up to stretch her quad muscles. “Did you not keep up your membership at the barre place we went to?”
The video instructor has moved on to arabesque leg lifts, and while Clara continues with her, I remain doubled over the barre. “Did I keep paying for a membership? Yes.”
Clara gives my elbow a quick swat with her hand. “But you didn’t keepgoingto classes?” she clarifies.
