Home for Christmas

by Tirrell, Kayla

  “Well...we still do anyway,” answered Henry. “And I was hoping you could help me find the right one,” he said, directing his attention toward Elizabeth. Mr. Marshall prepared to object but a swift elbow to the ribs convinced him otherwise.

  “Elizabeth would be glad to help you,” said Mrs. Marshall, nudging her daughter forward.

  Chapter 6

  As the two of them ventured down the path and into the trees Elizabeth tried not to think about the last time they had been alone together. She wasn’t that girl anymore, yet somehow Henry York still made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something big, afraid to take the leap. She shook the thought away. He was here for a tree tonight, not her.

  “What type of tree are you looking for,” she asked. “We have three different kinds. None pre decorated or covered in fake snow but…..”

  “The kind that smells the best,” answered Henry. “It’s never really Christmas until our house has that tree smell,” Elizabeth nodded. Of course Henry appreciated a good Christmas tree. Why else would he have volunteered to help her decorate last year? As much as she wanted to hate him and his family for opening the Save-A-Lot, she knew deep down that they hadn’t done it to hurt the farm. But they also hadn’t considered the impact.

  “You want one of these,” she said, tugging the needles off a nearby Grand Fir and plopping them in his outstretched palm. Henry inhaled the crisp tangerine scent of the large dark green needles.

  “Definitely,” he said.

  “Great,” she answered quickly, eager to get him off the farm and out of her head. “We’ll get the saw and have you out of here in no time.” Apparently however, getting out of there was the last thing Henry wanted to do.

  “This type,” he said. “But maybe not this tree. I’d like to keep looking.”

  Elizabeth led him further from the front gate. Henry in the moonlight reminded her of Henry under the glow of the hundreds of twinkling lights they’d hung together last year. She had to stop seeing him in terribly romantic locations if she had any hope of getting over him.

  “I’m sorry about the farm,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.. “If I’d known. If we’d known it would have this effect.”

  “You’d what?” shot Elizabeth. “Close the Save-A-lot? Re-open the Grocer? Jilly Beans? Go back to having your Dad work out of town three days a week?” She knew she wasn’t being fair but neither was opening a huge box store in a town where people depended on their small business to survive.

  “I guess not,” replied Henry, pink flooding his cheeks. “But I’d have tried...talked to my Dad you know. Maybe we wouldn’t sell trees. Next year, I promise we won’t,” Elizabeth softened.

  “Talk to him like you talked to him about school? Last year… you were so adamant that business wasn’t for you.” Henry let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Yeah about that. I guess when it came down to it, it was easier to make him happy then tell him my completely unrealistic career goals. They’re paying for my school you know. It just seemed ridiculous to say, hey Dad I know you want me to follow in your footsteps but I’d rather spend 20 grand a year to learn guitar,” For once Elizabeth felt bad for Henry. The Marshall’s had always been supportive of anything Elizabeth wanted to try. What would it have been like if they insisted she stay home and help run the tree farm instead of pursue her own goals?

  “So no rockstar Henry York in the future, eh?”

  Henry laughed, “Somehow I think the world will survive.”

  “Nina would tell you to suck it up and find your bliss,” said Elizabeth.

  Henry laughed, “And who is Nina?”

  “My roommate,” said Elizabeth. “She always knows what to do. She emboldens people.”

  “Is she to thank for the change in you?” he dared.

  Elizabeth blushed. “Something like that. She helped me see that I was letting fear hold me back, that sort of thing,” she replied, fully aware that Henry knew exactly what she meant.

  “That one!” she cried suddenly, as they turned a corner. She pointed to a small but lovely Grand Fir all by it’s lonesome “That one is perfect,” Henry took in the tree before him. Even at its diminutive size there was no way it would fit in his car. Still, he couldn’t say no. Not with Elizabeth absolutely gleaming with pride in her selection. He’d shove a hundred Grand Firs in his tiny Toyota if it meant she’d keep wearing that grin.

  “I’ll take it!” he said. “And if I ever meet Nina, I’ll have to thank her. I like this brave new you,” he said, winking as he left her to go grab the saw. Elizabeth smiled to herself, she liked the new her too which gave her an idea. That night when they had packed up the concessions and dragged the signs back to the barn for safe keeping, she would call Nina and tell her about the trouble on the farm. She’d always known what to do back at school.

  Chapter 7

  Two international phone cards and a whole lot of number punching later, Nina Cortez picked up the phone.

  “Oh thank the lord!” she said. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up alone after three months of spending every waking moment with another person, only to have them ripped away from you at the Holidays? Of course you do! How are you? How's Life?” Nina had a habit of asking too many questions too fast.

  “Well then...I’ve missed you too,” laughed Elizabeth.

  “For real though, tell me everything.”

  Where to start thought Elizabeth. “My family business is having a crisis and so far I’ve seen Henry York twice in the less than 24 hours I’ve been home.”

  Nina growled, “I thought we were over that!”

  “We?”

  “I had to hear about it enough. I get to say we. At this point he broke our heart.”

  “Fair enough,” said Elizabeth. “But that can wait. I need you to tell me what to do about the farm?”

  “I’m listening…”

  “No one is buying trees. The lot has been practically vacant all day. Mom said it’s been like this all season. We just finished the night sale and aside from a handful of our neighbors Henry was the only customer.”

  “Henry came to the night sale?”

  “He needed a tree…”

  “Oh, he needed something…”

  “Nina!”

  “Right, right sorry. It’s slightly more entertaining to give you romantic advice than it is business. Tell me about this night sale. What exactly does it entail.”

  “Hot cocoa and trees.”

  “Yeah…” she said, drawing out the word like it were taffy in one of those beach front stores, “that’s not gonna cut it anymore. What you need is a shindig, think the international students mixer.”

  “I don’t think passing out jungle juice and promising scantily clad hula dancers is going to do the trick.”

  Nina laughed, “You make me feel bad about that event. Forget the details you have to tailor to your crowd. In my defense scantily clad hula dancers and jungle juice netted fifty international students who might not ever have left their dorm rooms otherwise,” She had a point.

  “So what do I do for my crowd?”

  “Beats me,” said Nina “I’m not attuned to what hillbilly tree huggers do for fun.”

  “Watch it lady!”

  “Okay, okay. Here is what you can’t do without, food, advertising and a band. Everything else you come up with yourself,” The two talked until the minutes on Elizabeth’s phone card had dwindled down to nothing. When she was about to hang up Nina asked one last question.

  “Hey Elizabeth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think now might be a good time to admit that you broke his heart and not the other way around?”

  Chapter 8

  It didn’t take long to get Mr. and Mrs. Marshall on board with the plan. They would host the night sale of all night sales a week from Christmas. While Elizabeth secured the entertainment, decorations and advertising her parents would ready the food and drink, prepare the farm for extra vehicles a
nd use word of mouth to make sure every old lady at the hair salon was talking about the Marshall’s big night.

  First thing first she needed a musician and she knew just who to ask. Elizabeth spent a little extra time getting ready that morning. Carefully combing and blow drying her long dark hair. She wore a white chenille turtleneck with a crimson skirt that billowed just above her knees. Her white tights and black boots were just enough to keep the cold at bay without compromising the outfit. With a touch of mascara and lipgloss Elizabeth went down the stairs and into the kitchen where her parents were enjoying their morning coffee. Mr. Marshall looked over his paper skeptically as his daughter kissed him on the cheek and headed out the door.

  “Maybe we were better off before she realized she was pretty,” he remarked to his wife.

  Mrs. Marshall laughed. “Think of it this way dear, you can finally do all of that over protecting Dad stuff they do in the movies.”

  “Good idea. Maybe I should go with her,” he said, scooting his chair back to catch Elizabeth before she fired up the truck.

  “Not so fast!” said Mrs. Marshall. “You’re supposed to be helping me set the menu remember?” reluctantly Mr. Marshall sat back down, one eye on the window as Elizabeth headed out to the York’s.

  Chapter 9

  Henry lived in Pine Ridge Estates. Which of course was the nicest spot in town. So nice that the kids in Smockville did their trick or treating almost exclusively in Pine Ridge. Elizabeth rang the doorbell of Henry’s three story white victorian. She was surprised when he answered the door himself...in pajamas. In all their years of growing up together Elizabeth had never seen Henry anything less than dapper. Yet here he stood in flannel pajama pants with a white undershirt, his hair disheveled.

  “I thought you were going to be the paperboy,” he said, obviously flustered.

  Elizabeth laughed, “Sorry, can I come in?” Henry ushered her inside to the living room where a soggy bowl of cereal sat on the coffee table. The two took a seat on the York’s overstuffed leather couch. Elizabeth tried not to look too intently at this new adorably disheveled version of Henry, while Henry tried to fixate less on the shape of her charming lips and more on the words coming out of them.

  She had been going on about a big event at the tree farm next week. The more she talked the more excited she got and Henry couldn’t help but glob onto the enthusiasm? “We could help!” said Henry. “We have tons of leftover lights and decorations at the store. My parents would be happy to lend them,” Elizabeth’s eyes lit up.

  “Really?!? They would do that?”

  “Of course!” said Henry “The Save-A-Lot is hardly the root of all evil Elizabeth,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, “That is yet to be determined.”

  “We also need entertainment,” she said hopefully. “And I thought that maybe you would be willing to play a few songs?”

  Henry looked down at his barefeet. “I don’t really do that anymore.”

  “Just this once?”

  “I really can’t. I’m out of practice….and…”

  “For me?” she pleaded.

  Henry looked up to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry Elizabeth. I really can’t,” disappointed Elizabeth rose to leave. She’d hoped he would take her up on the offer. Henry on stage was a wonderful thing. Henry in a business suit was a wasted thing. But there was no way to say that.

  “I just thought I’d ask,” she said.

  Henry nodded. “I’ll bring the decorations by that Friday a few hours before the party.”

  “Sure,” she replied sadly, leaving Henry to kick himself. Elizabeth had come back from college a brave new girl. She was finally unafraid to say what she thought and he, he had only grown more afraid. It was as if she’d cast off her shell only for Henry to crawl into it.

  Chapter 10

  Elizabeth spent the rest of the week making and delivering posters around town. She hung them at City Hall, the laundromats, the Library, the Save-A-Lot anywhere that would allow her, taking special care to talk to any and all that asked questions. When it came time to find a musician Elizabeth called Mr. Lentz her old band director who was more than happy to donate his high school jazz band to the cause. The two weeks before the party flew by. Suddenly it was Thursday afternoon and the town was abuzz with chatter about the big event at Marshall’s Tree Farm.

  Pleased with herself and filled with hope Elizabeth went to bed that evening, the first snowflakes of the season dotting the trees outside her window.

  Chapter 11

  The morning of the party Elizabeth smiled to see a blanket of snow outside her kitchen window. That smile however grew dimmer and dimmer as the day continued and the snow refused to stop. By two o’clock Henry had called to say his car wouldn’t make it up the hill and he would have to find another way to get the decorations to Elizabeth. By four o’clock Mr. Marshall gave up his plight to clear the driveway as every time he finished the new snow reburied all of his work, and by six o’clock Elizabeth was in tears.

  “The snow stopped,” called Mrs. Marshall from her spot at the kitchen window.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” sobbed Elizabeth. “The party starts at eight and we can’t get up our own driveway. No one is going to come out here and even if they did the decorations aren’t here, the band isn’t here..”

  “We’ve got the food,” said Mrs. Marshall, checking the ham puff’s in the oven.

  “Great,” sniffed Elizabeth. “Food for one hundred and all three of us to eat it.”

  “You tried hon. We couldn’t be more grateful,” said Mr. Marshall. She knew her parents were trying to be helpful but Elizabeth could barely stand to look at them knowing this was likely the last year the Marshall’s would run the Christmas tree side of the farm and it had been a big flat flop.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be excused,” she said.

  “Of course we don’t mind,” said Mrs. Marshall watching as her daughter trudged upstairs to cry in private. For the second Christmas in a row Mr. Marshall stood outside his daughter’s bedroom door wishing he had the words to console her and for the second year in a row it was Mrs. Marshall who tugged him gently by the arm urging him to let her be.

  Chapter 12

  When she’d come to terms with the fact that blubbering into her pillow wasn’t going to solve her problems Elizabeth picked up the phone and dialed Nina. There would be no bright ideas or last minute saves this time but the sound of her voice was enough.

  “That’s rough chica,” said Nina. “You’re sure people won’t be able to make it?”

  Elizabeth laughed, “Trust me. No Ones risking their lives to buy a tree they didn’t want in the first place.”

  “Wow, Polly Pessimist!”

  “Sorry, it’s just…” Elizabeth stopped mid-sentence interrupted by the sound of horns blaring in the distance.

  “Hello?!” said Nina “Earth to Elizabeth this is your roomie speaking.”

  “Just a minute,” she answered, setting the phone down on the dresser beside her. She walked over to the bedroom window, expecting to find someone stuck on the road below. Elizabeth squinted but all she could make out was the shape of a large vehicle and a small crowd of people. What they were doing, she couldn’t quite tell.

  “I’ll have to call you back,” she told Nina before grabbing her father’s birding binoculars from the adjacent study. Curious, she brought the binoculars up to her face, twisting the lenses until the figures below went from blurry grey blobs to people. At the bottom of the drive with a plow behind them stood a crop of men and women, the gold embroidery on their Save-A-Lot vests shining bright against their dark blue material. The crew hooted and hollered at the gate to Marshall’s Tree Farm, their snow shovels raised high in gloved hands. And of course, standing on the side of the plow, with his palm pressed firmly on the horn, was Henry York.

  Chapter 13

  The Marshalls watched from the kitchen window as the plow cleared the way from the road to their home. When Mr. Marshall op
ened the front door and saw the way that Henry York looked at his daughter, and the way she was looking back at him, Henry’s hands loaded to the brim with christmas lights, he let go of his feelings of ill will.

  There was no time to waste so the Marshalls shelled out jobs to the unexpected work crew. Three men plowed the rows between the trees so that customers could walk through without soaking their feet. Two volunteers helped Mrs. Marshall bring the food into the barn and set up heat lamps and Henry and Elizabeth strung the lights and hung the decorations. When the high school band arrived to set up in the barn, Elizabeth asked Mr. Lentz how he had known the roads would be clear.

  “This guy called me. And he must have called just about everyone else in town as well,” said Mr. Lentz, motioning toward Henry.

  Henry blushed. “Well...my parents helped.”

  Elizabeth shook her head in amazement. She didn’t deserve one bit of his kindness and yet here he was, doling it out as if her happiness were both his pleasure and responsibility.

  All that remained was the wait for customers. Together with the band, Mr. Lentz, the Save-A-Lot crew and Henry York, the Marshall’s watched the road. At eight o’clock sharp the first in a long line of headlights made its way around the bend and toward the front gate.

  Chapter 14

  As the evening passed dozens of trees were cut and loaded for Smockville families. Couples swayed to Christmas classics in the warm glow of the barn and though Mrs. Marshall ran completely out of ham puffs she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. After all, Marshall’s Tree Farm made enough that night to carry them into the spring.