Jason

 

 

"Are you sure you know how to do this?" she asks. She’s standing a safe distance behind me, observing as I get ready to let the ax fly down on the first chunk of wood. I note a certain tone of arrogance in her voice that I don't care for.

I turn my head in her direction and roll my eyes at her. She's huddled up in heavy winter gear, a white cat-ear beanie completing the ensemble. It's so fucking cute that I can't stop myself from grinning every time I look at her. That little minx.

"I mean, I can show you how to do it," she adds. There’s a definite twinkle in her eye when she casts me a condescending smirk, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"You just watch it, little girl."

I point my finger at her, once again grateful that she lent me these heavy gloves. Not once as I was packing my suitcase did I ever anticipate that I’d be spending a lot of time outside in the cold. My winter coat and cashmere scarf would suffice for short trips from door to cab and cab to door, but it certainly wasn’t sufficient for standing outside in her yard, chopping wood to keep the fire in the fireplace burning so we’re able to stay warm.

I don't like her watching me. Her assessment is spot-on: I've never done this before, so I lack her experience. But how hard can it be? After all, chopping wood is about strength as much as it is about precision, and I certainly outperform her in that regard. I turn back to the piece of wood in front of me and lift the ax over my head, bringing it down at what feels like the perfect angle. She doesn't even try to suppress her laughter when I miss the log on my first attempt, and the ax gets stuck in the wooden block beneath it.

I growl in anger as I struggle to wrench it back out.

"You know, chopping wood is actually dangerous work, so let me just-"

"I can do this!" I cut her off, sounding like a stubborn child.

"All right."

I can hear her trying to hide her laughter, but I'm not letting her win this easily.

Besides, I'm going to remember this later.

I finally extract the ax out of the wood and set in for another try. This time, as I swing the ax back down, it hits the log right in the middle, splitting a good half of it thanks to the force of my blow.

"Nice," she remarks.

"Told you."

I maneuver the ax out of the wood, and I can hear her gasping behind me, about to say something, but she stops herself.

It takes me two more swings to fully split the log, and by the time I'm done with it, she's standing next to me, a smirk on her face that does not bode well.

"You really think you're better at this?" I ask her, motioning to the log at our feet.

She nods. "Who do you think has been doing this for the past few years? My Oma?"

I snort and shake my head. "This is a man's job. You don't have the strength. Trust me, it'll be faster if I do it."

"You won't even let me try?"

She throws me a challenging look, and then she confidently reaches for the ax in my hand. I'm reluctant to let it go, but she grabs it, yanking on it until I'm willing to let it go.

"Fine," I say, taking a few steps back. "Don't hurt yourself."

She scoffs and bends down to retrieve another log from the pile and place it on the chopping block. We're standing on a sheltered veranda out of the elements, but even here, the snow has been drifting in and piling up the past few days. The stack of seasoned logs she has stored up against the wall of the house has mostly been spared from heaviest snow, but we had to clear the area around it before we could start chopping.

I don't trust her confidence, and feel the beginning flutter of worry in my gut as I take a few step backs to give her some leeway. The ax looks gigantic in her hands, and it's hard to believe that she could actually handle it considering her comparably small frame. As it turns out, she's another example of how looks can be deceiving. Awe suffuses my features when she swings the ax for the first time, finalizing the motion with a perfect landing that splits the log in front of her in a single blow.

"That was a smaller log!" I argue, when she throws me a cheeky grin over the shoulder.

"Sure it was!"

She purses her lips in concentration, returning her efforts to the chopping block. Lena places another log on top of it and splits it with the same precise elegance as she did the first time. And then she does it again. I stand and watch mesmerized, unable to hide the wonder and astonishment filling me as I watch this beautiful girl chop wood as if it was second nature.

Only her breathing tells me that I wasn't completely wrong. She may have more practice at this than I do, but it still takes a fair amount of effort since she lacks my body strength and endurance.

"Let me try again," I say, after she's successfully assaulted another piece of wood.

She's panting, and little drops of sweat are running down the sides of her face when she turns to me.

"All right, big man," she says, under heavy breaths. "Let me show you how it's done."

I can't even be mad at her sassy attitude right now, because the genuine smile on her face fills me with a soothing warmth that radiates through my chest. It’s something that I have never felt before.

I'm so utterly and completely fucked.