by Rula Sinara
Hope’s excitement had the kids craning their necks as she pointed out the herd. Here she was, someone who lived where many only dreamed of going just to see exotic wildlife, bubbling with the thrill of being surrounded three hundred and sixty degrees by snow and spotting deer. Things most took for granted around here. The way she probably took giraffes and wildebeests for granted.
He smiled and concentrated on the road and her voice as she began humming to the holiday music on the radio.
“Do you two know this song?” she asked Maddie and Chad. Ben looked in his rearview mirror and saw Maddie nod and Chad shake his head. Chad didn’t know “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth”? He should have recognized it.
He would have, if Ben had taken Nina’s advice and put him in preschool this year. Even half a day to get him used to structured learning. But he’d been too stubborn and defensive. He had wanted his kids as close by as possible, just so he could feel in control and falsely secure. He’d been so involved with Maddie’s school issues, he’d put his son’s early education on hold.
The coal from all the mining towns in America wouldn’t be enough for his stocking this year. Maybe the chances of building a company with Coop going under was a blessing in disguise for the kids. Now, whether he found a position in DC or returned to duty, he knew the best thing for the kids was to live with their grandparents.
Eric and Nina had raised two before. They knew what they were doing, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He’d let his pride and need to prove himself and make things right for his family get in the way of what was best for them. He looked at Hope again. Hope, who didn’t have kids of her own, was a more natural parent than he was. She caught him looking and blushed.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just remembering what an awful guitar player you are. You sure can carry a tune, though.”
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” She looked back at the kids. Maddie scribbled on her pad and held it up. Hope read it out loud. “‘You were terrible but I liked it anyway.’ Okay, I admit it. I’ve never played an instrument. I can’t even get the right rhythm on a drum. We have traditional handheld drums. My brother is great at it. Me, not so much.”
“But you can sing, apparently,” Ben said.
She smirked and shrugged.
Ben turned down a long bumpy drive. Three small farm buildings formed a half circle. A backdrop of evergreens at different stages of growth framed the setting. Stands of handmade wreaths and garlands welcomed visitors. He parked in front of what looked like the office.
“You all ready?” he asked. The clicking of belts unlatching gave him the answer. “Remember, only one that’s burlapped and small enough to keep alive so it sets roots.”
“You know they’ll have no idea,” Hope said. “You’ll have to veer them toward the right one.”
“Yeah, I know. No Charlie trees for this project,” he said, winking at Maddie and reaching behind to give her cheek a gentle pinch.
The plan was to pick a tree that they could eventually plant in a spot just to the right of their house, not too far from the outdoor water outlet. A live tree that would grow in remembrance of Zoe. One they’d make a tradition of stringing with lights every year.
“Everyone have their gloves and hats on?” he asked, trying to keep himself in the moment.
“Let’s go!” Chad said, grabbing an armful of snow and throwing it in the air. Then he did it again, though it didn’t make it too high.
“We may need to skip the hot chocolate or cider with him,” Ben said.
“Definitely,” Hope agreed. “Kitchen pantry overhaul when we get home, too.”
“Long overdue.”
Maddie and Chad ran ahead of them to check out a carved wood bear wearing a Santa hat. Hope helped Ben hoist and secure Ryan into the harness on his back so his hands would be free. He put his hand on Hope’s back as they followed the trail and signs with instructions on what to do. It was simply a gesture. Guiding her. That was all. But it felt…so right.
Maddie and Chad disappeared behind one tree that hadn’t been dug up yet. The farm had plenty of trees ready to go, and Ben figured they’d pick one of those, but the day was about more than grabbing and going. He wanted to get away. Share this with Hope.
A snow missile came flying at him, obliterating itself against his thigh. Maddie’s red coat made for useless camouflage behind that green tree. Another flew but missed.
“My turn!” Chad’s snowball barely cleared two feet.
“This is war!” Ben called out. He reached down, grabbed a handful of snow and made a ball, then threw it, aiming for the tree. “Aw, I can’t believe I missed.”
Laughter emanated from behind the tree. He and Hope looked at each other because they’d heard two distinctly different laughs. More snowballs came flying.
“Come on, Hope. I can’t fight the enemy alone.”
Hope tried her hand at snow combat. She made a beautiful, formidable warrior. Ben stepped behind her and grabbed her around the waist.
“Human shield!” he yelled as she laughed and tried to get away. She shrieked when a snowball hit her jacket.
“No fair, Ben. Let me go!”
He didn’t let go, instead turned her to face him. And in that second, nothing else existed. Everything disappeared into the puffs of breath that danced between them.
He kissed her. Brushed her lips with his in one quick, private, stolen kiss because the moment was so perfect. With two kids behind a tree and one behind his back, it was a second in time captured for him and Hope. She stared at him wide-eyed, then touched her lips with a gloved hand.
Ben tugged her hat down around her mesmerizing face.
“Let’s go get a tree,” he said.
“Yes. Let’s.”
*
THEY ENDED UP getting two, with double of everything needed for setting them up. And after dropping one off at the house and eating a very late lunch, they headed to Nina and Eric’s. Nina didn’t even bother to mask her stiff reaction to the fact that they’d gone to a tree farm. All of them. Her only consolation was Ben telling her that the kids asked to come over and play with their grandparents. They hadn’t really, but he figured catching flies with honey might work with her. He and Hope only needed an hour or two for their second mission. It was already getting dark.
He passed this street almost daily and always sat at the intersection holding his breath for a green light, but never, since Zoe’s accident, had he turned into the parking lot of Bentley’s. The closest he’d come to that was when he’d spotted Zoe’s purple bike parked out front shortly after Hope had arrived in the States. Ben really wanted to park and wait in the farthest spot from the door, but making Hope run across the parking lot with the bitter wind now coming through in gusts would have classified him as pond scum.
He pulled up close to the main entrance, but kept his eyes straight ahead. He could do this. This wasn’t about him anymore. Hope unbuckled.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but I really feel bad about pulling her from work,” Hope said. “Can’t it wait?”
“She owns the place. Don’t you think she has servers or a bartender who could keep things going for an hour or two?” he said, propping his elbow on his side door and rubbing his jaw as an excuse to look away.
“You haven’t been in there lately, have you?”
“No.” Ben rubbed his palms along his jeans. “No. I don’t go in there. But I never assume I’ll have another chance. Things happen. I want to do this now.”
He wouldn’t even be here if he didn’t think Brie was the one person who could help his friend. When he’d left Cooper after their brawl, the guy had calmed down. He’d even apologized for Ben’s face by telling him he deserved it. Ben knew that was code for “We’re still brothers, but no way I’m getting mushy.” But what if he wasn’t okay? Worse yet, what if he decided he didn’t have anything to live for?
“Trust me,” Hope said, “she hasn’t needed much
help, so she saves money by doing it all herself, other than her cook and occasionally her uncle.”
Ben frowned. He’d had that serious an impact on Bentley’s?
“I’ll let her know we’re here.” Hope got out. Wind blew into the car as she shut the door firmly against it, trapping him inside with the aroma of Bentley’s famous burgers and potato skins. His temples pounded, and he held his breath in spurts, trying not to remember. He and Zoe on their first date. Sentimental Zoe getting him those burgers every time he came home. Sometimes he hated the way tastes and smells entwined themselves in memories like viruses. At least the bad ones.
The sound of Hope opening the SUV door saved him. She climbed in, and seconds later, Brie and Wolf came rushing out of Bentley’s. Both woman and canine climbed into the back. The smell of grilled food intensified. He was going to be sick.
He stepped on the gas without saying hello until he was near the parking lot exit. There, he rolled down his window and took a deep breath of icy air, then turned to look at Hope and Brie as if everything was normal. Hope looked at him wide-eyed, as if he’d rolled down the window because he’d passed gas in front of her friend.
“I’m just anxious to get to Coop’s,” he explained. “Thanks for doing this, Brie.”
“Of course. Uncle Ralph was here anyway, looking at my accounting. I want to help Cooper, I just don’t know that he’ll let me. He didn’t answer my phone call or come by today. I’m not sure he’ll want me showing up at his door.”
“Brie, Hope told me how he has been around you, and I happen to know he loves dogs and seems to have a connection to Wolf. Something tells me he won’t turn you away.”
Ben drove down the street and turned into the apartment complex where Cooper was staying. The light was on at his place. Ben was thankful it was on the ground floor, and he wouldn’t have to haul the tree upstairs. He parked where Cooper wouldn’t readily see his car, but Ben and Hope could keep watch.
“Brie, wait in here till I untie it. No use in freezing.”
He grabbed the stand he’d bought, not knowing if Coop had one, and set it and a box of lights on the hood, then made quick work of the tree. He carried it over and leaned it against the wall near Cooper’s door, then signaled for Brie and Wolf through the windshield. She grabbed the stand and box and ran over.
“Okay,” he said. “Knock and see if he’ll let you two in.”
Ben joined Hope in the car. They waited. After her third knock, Brie looked over at them and shook her head…just as the door opened and cast a light on her. They watched her lips move, her motion to the tree, and finally they saw him step out and carry it inside. Brie and Wolf joined him.
Ben and Hope exhaled at the same time.
“Now we wait.”
“Do you know how long it took us to decorate the tree at Bentley’s? We may be here awhile,” Hope said.
“He can handle the tree on his own. Everyone in our division knows about Cooper and Christmas trees. It didn’t matter where we were, even if it was desert for miles, he always managed to make one if the holidays rolled around and he wasn’t going home. I think his best was out of empty ration packets.” Ben chuckled. “When I mentioned Brie to him, there was something in his face that I’ve never, ever seen at the mention of a girl. And then there’s Wolf. If anyone can pull him out of his funk and get him to realize his life isn’t over, it’s the two of them.”
“It breaks my heart that he’s going through this. She really cares about him, Ben. I believe in fate and things happening for a reason. Things we can’t understand. Maybe they were meant for each other. Maybe her connections and work will help him get a service dog faster, if need be.”
“Maybe. Not sure how it all works, but this goes way beyond that.” Ben turned and faced Hope. “Cooper had a different type of service dog once. A K-9 who was killed during the blast that injured his leg. His K-9’s name was Wolf.”
*
HOPE WIPED HER tears as Ben told her about Wolf. She connected the dots. She’d witnessed the dog’s behavior around Cooper firsthand. Incredible. Was it possible? Or a mere coincidence? Was there really such a thing as holiday magic and miracles? Goosebumps trailed down her arms.
Ben scrubbed his hand across his stubble. “I’m worried about him. I’m worried about Maddie. Even Chad and Ryan. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing anymore,” he said.
Hope took his hand and held it. She rubbed the pad of her thumb across the rough skin of his knuckles. He didn’t pull away.
“All you can do is be a friend. Be a father. You’re doing what you can,” she said. “Only a true friend would be sitting in a dark car on a cold night, just so a woman and a dog could deliver a tree.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, and he squeezed her hand. Hope was certain he would have kissed her again, but for the sound of a door slamming and the sight of Brie running out with Wolf. Her hand was over her mouth, and she was crying.
“Oh, no.” Hope unbuckled.
Ben was halfway out his door, but Brie was already climbing in after Wolf.
“Honey,” Hope said, turning backward with her knees on her seat and rubbing Brie’s knee. “What happened?”
Fleeting images of the damage to Ben’s face Cooper had done spun through Hope’s head, but Brie didn’t look anything but windblown, and Ben had assured her Cooper would never hurt a woman. That he’d only hit Ben because Ben had wanted him to.
“Brie, talk to me,” Ben said, leaning back with one hand on Wolf, who kept nudging Brie’s cheek.
Brie struggled to still her sobs. “H-he told me he was sorry if he’d given me the w-w-wrong impression, but that he’s not interested in me that way. A-a-and that I shouldn’t call him. Then he thanked me for the treeeeee.” The word trailed off on a wail.
Hope got out and climbed into the backseat. Ben’s face looked pale and drawn. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
“Just drive us back,” Hope said, knowing the sight of a girl crying was enough to make most men panic. She put her arm around Brie and let her sob into her shoulder. If she ever had any doubts about how much her friend had fallen for Ben’s, they’d just been blown away.
*
BEN SCANNED HIS laptop screen for one last read-through. He opened his email, attached the file and pasted the brief cover letter he’d written into the body of the email. He hit Send. One down, five more to go. He systematically went through each one, pasting in the matching letter and greeting and hitting Send.
He sat back and listened to the house breathe. Ryan’s monitor sputtered with static, then stopped. Nothing moved but his blinking cursor. He’d done it. He’d made his move.
He’d been so sure that he’d eventually convince Coop to go in with him. Now he knew why his buddy had so vehemently resisted. And without his expertise, Ben wouldn’t be able to pull together a company. Not the way he’d envisioned.
He never thought he’d have to fall back on plan B. Reenlisting had always been his first choice before Zoe died. But with Maddie’s problem, he’d done his best to stay around. That wasn’t going to be possible anymore. And at this point, if he didn’t start putting money into his account on a regular basis, his savings were going to be depleted. Even the insurance money from Zoe’s death would be gone. He was responsible for his family, and if that meant he needed to be away in order to provide, then that was what he’d do.
But he couldn’t bring himself to reenlist. After the past few days with his kids—and with Hope—he couldn’t bear the thought of only seeing them once in a blue moon. And if Maddie ever regained her voice, hearing her through technology, no matter how amazing it was for those stationed far from their loved ones, wouldn’t be enough for him.
Semper Fi. He loved his country. He served because it was who he was. Yes, he was a husband and father, but for the sake of survival and coping with the things he’d seen and had to do in order to protect his family and country, he’d distanced himself. He realized that now. Hope had made hi
m see it. He was a father first. He would always be a marine, but he was a single father, and his kids were counting on him. And given the future Cooper was going to have to adjust to, Ben felt better being closer to all of them.
Just not as close as home.
But a job in DC would at least give him the flexibility to fly up as needed.
He shut down his system and went and lay down on the couch, tucking a pillow under his neck. He faced the tree they were calling “Zoe’s tree” in all its glory, right in front of the large window overlooking the street. Its lights were set to twinkle, and every branch carried an ornament…a memory. Maddie had loved the idea of planting it permanently in their yard after Christmas, and had drawn a picture of their house with it out front.
Maddie’s little “Charlie Brown” tree took up a narrower area between the bedroom hall and the entryway. She’d chosen the spot. Ben figured she wanted it to be the first thing she saw when she came home from school. Other than white lights, the only things she’d hung on it were the two bracelets Hope had given her. Ben left it at that. He didn’t know what was going through that little girl’s head, but she seemed happier. The school had sent a note from her last counseling session, and she appeared to be doing better there, too. The note said she was lucky to have such a caring and involved father. Yeah, right.
They had no idea how very little her “positive behavioral changes” had to do with him. He had a feeling that once Chad started preschool, something Ben was looking into for the second half of the year, he’d be getting office calls on a daily basis. Only, he wouldn’t be the one taking those calls. Not if he landed one of the contract jobs in DC. With the potential to earn six figures with a company that contracted with the government, he had to give it a shot.
The only reason he’d survived as a single parent was Nina and Eric. And Hope had made all the difference in the world, too, but she’d be back in Kenya, focused on her career. He had a support system here. Everyone down to school staff and grocery clerks knew his family. He wouldn’t have that if he moved them. With Maddie showing small improvements, he wasn’t about to uproot her.