The Sugarplum Fairy : A small town, fish out of water Christmas romantic comedy by Piper Collins

Author:Piper Collins [Collins, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Zac

“I don’t understand.” Ava is in the backseat of the Jeep with Ira. She insisted on giving him shotgun, but Ira, who was nothing but a born-again gentleman in the moment, vehemently told her to take it. I just didn’t think that Ava would match his stubbornness, toe to toe. “Why isn’t Jim hibernating?”

Logical question. It’s not something I think about anymore. “He’s been conditioned to too many handouts; he doesn’t really have a need,” I explain.

“Young Buck up there,” Ira accuses, pointing to me, “has been feeding him since he was young. Jim’s been living the life, that one. Baked goods year round, fish heads in the summer. Shit,” he exhales, waving his hand in the air for emphasis, “he knows he has to earn it though.”

I see Ava’s eyes seek mine in the rearview mirror; the confusion that was erased moments ago, is back, and it’s tenfold.

“Sorry, but he ‘knows he has to earn it?’ He’s a bear.” This is one of those situations, that I suppose if one looked at it from the outside like Ava is currently, it would seem absolutely batshit.

Before I can say anything further, Ira pipes up, evidently having caught his second wind of the night. “We feed him, he protects us. It’s a win-win. Do you see, dear?” Ira’s glasses glint in the low light from the dash, and I see that he’s genuinely waiting for her to catch on.

“What Ira means to say, is that Jim took down a moose that had cornered Dale.”

“Oh?” she squeaks.

“Saw it with my own eyes,” Ira adds. The irony of him pushing his glasses further up his nose isn’t lost on me. I still question whether or not he witnessed it, having heard numerous renditions over the years. “It was the winter of 2018. So, there I was, just leaving the fire station,” he begins, “and I hear Dale behind me hollerin’ when I turn around to tell him to stop shoutin’ at me—in all my years, I’ve never needed hearing aids…” He pauses, waiting for a complimentary affirmation. Ever dutiful, Ava encourages him with “of course.”

In the darkness I barely make out that Ira pats the top of Ava’s hand, pleased with her gentile reaction. The old flirt…

“So, with my acute hearing,” he continues, “I turn around, and I’d be a monkey’s uncle if a bull moose wasn’t standing between us.”

The part of the story I take issue with, is how Ira failed to see an animal that tipped the scales at fifteen-hundred pounds.

“He was so big, I could’ve gone sledding on one of his palms,” Ira continues.

Ava interrupts him gently. “Ira,” she croons, “you’re speaking Alaskan and I’m a city girl, remember? What’s a palm?”

This time, when he goes to pat her hand, he doesn’t remove his. “Oh yes, dear, right, right. It’s the ‘bucket’ part of the antlers, you know…the biggest part of them?” At this, he takes both of his hands and makes a show of spreading his fingers wide, palms facing forward.

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