by Nancy Fraser
Roz turned on the ignition, backed her car from the parking space, and headed home. Just like Scarlet O’Hara, she’d worry about today tomorrow. She’d made plans to visit her grandparents this Christmas in Dickens, the small New England town where they lived, and she’d not change them just because her life was in the toilet. Her grandfather was sick. Her own parents were out of the country. Reconnecting with her roots after so many years away might be what she needed to re-evaluate the direction of her life going forward.
At that moment, an image of a brown-haired boy running hand-in-hand with her under a night sky brightly lit with stars filled her mind. Cooper Brown! Why would she think of him now? She hadn’t thought of him in years. Cooper had lived next door to her grandparents. Roz spent every summer with them until she left for grad school. Back in the day, she and Cooper had been an item. She’d heard he’d married, but she didn’t know whether he still lived in town.
She revisited the image of Cooper. Goodness, he had been a cutie, and she had liked him so much. As children they’d been inseparable, promising they would remain friends forever. She hadn’t been kind, though, when she broke up with him. Was this karma finally catching up with her? Did she think of him because of the parallel between the cavalier way Justin dumped her and how she’d broken Cooper’s heart so many years ago? Was this the universe’s way of telling her that apologizing to Cooper might be the first step towards putting her life back in order?
DICKENS LOOKED LIKE an old-fashioned postcard or the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie with its historic town common festively decorated for the holidays. City staff had festooned the gazebo with white lights and huge evergreen wreaths and decorated a pine tree with bright, colorful lights and a white star topper. A statue of a town founder stood proudly in the middle. Roz drove her Honda around the common and headed toward Victoria Street where her grandparents lived.
Growing up, she’d spent most of her summers with Tress and Ken Henry, because her physician parents left their practice every year to go on medical mission trips. Her grandparents had been her lifeline. She could always count on them, but not so much her parents whose minds were fixed on saving the world, not raising their only child.
A flush of resentment caused Roz to swallow hard as she drove down the picturesque town streets. She’d gotten over her parents’ selfishness, accepting that’s the way they were. At least, she’d told herself she’d gotten over it. Now, when she could use their support, they were thousands of miles away in some sub-Saharan African country curing the sick at a medical clinic. She’d be selfish herself, if she faulted them for it.
When she arrived at her grandparents’ house, she noticed a plumber’s panel truck parked in the gravel driveway almost up to the detached garage. Roz pulled in behind it. She was early. Three days early to be exact. Grandma Tress wouldn’t expect her, so Roz thought it best to ring the front doorbell. She didn’t want to startle the old woman by walking in unannounced. Maybe she should have called in advance, but she’d been so upset that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. She’d just thrown a few things in her suitcase and got on the road.
Her grandparents’ home was a two-story clapboard house, built in the1900’s, with a pitched roof and a front porch right on the street. She and Grandpa Henry used to sit side-by-side in the porch swing and count cars as they came down the street. The old porch swing was gone now, a relic of hot summer days long ago.
Her grandmother came at the sound of the ringing bell and drew the door open. “My goodness, Rosalind! You’re early.”
“I had time off,” Roz said, not wanting to admit she’d been fired—or “laid off” as she’d been told.
“I’m so glad to see you!”
Pulled into Grandma Tress’s arms, Roz felt how frail the gray-haired woman had become. She still wore her hair long and parted down the middle, like her hippie days, and a loose-fitting print dress decorated with yellow daisies.
“Mrs. Henry, you’re going to need a new disposal.” A man came around the corner out of the dining room and into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Cooper. Roz dropped her arms as her grandmother turned around. Her gaze met Cooper’s for a long sober moment. He nodded. Then he focused on Grandma Tress. One mystery solved. Cooper still lived in town. Maybe she would get a chance to put things right.
“Oh, dear!” Grandma Tress threw up her hands. “And the family is coming for Christmas Eve dinner.”
For some reason, her grandmother had lost the self-assurance Roz remembered. She stood there now, wringing her hands, as if she couldn’t make a decision.
“No worries. I’ll go buy a new one. I can install it this afternoon.”
“Oh, would you, Cooper? It would take such a load off my mind.”
Cooper smiled. “I’ll be right back, Mrs. Henry.” He slipped past Roz without a word. She caught a whiff of his musk aftershave as he walked by. Obviously, he was still carrying a grudge.
Cooper had been gone only a few seconds when he came back. “Your car is blocking my truck.” His voice was matter-of-fact.
Of course, it was. “I’m sorry. I’ll move it.”
She still held her key fob, so she followed him out into the cold. The frost on her breath reminded her of his reception. She could at least speak to him.
“I’m glad to see you, Cooper. How’s it going?”
He paused at his truck door and glanced back at her. She saw the tenseness around his mouth. “I guess you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“My wife died of breast cancer last year.”
Her hands fell to her sides, and her stomach tightened. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Cooper shrugged and silently climbed into his truck. Roz could do nothing but scramble into her driver’s seat and back out of the driveway, letting him out. She drove back in, all the way up to the garage door. She sat there a moment, her hands remaining on the steering wheel.
Obviously, Cooper hurt so much that his wife’s death clouded his life. His tragedy suddenly made her problems seem miniscule. Could she do something to help him? After all, they used to be friends. Very good friends.
“YOU’LL FIND A BIG CHANGE in your grandfather,” Grandma Tress said, ushering Roz through the large eat-in kitchen still stuck in the 1970s with green Formica countertops and white appliances and into an enclosed back porch with a slate floor.
Grandpa Henry sat in his usual comfy blue rocking chair and faced the blaring big-screen television. Roz’s pulse picked up. She leaned in, moving closer to her grandfather.
“Your parents think it’s too much for me to take care of Ken.” Grandma Tress paused, looking down at her husband of fifty years. Her voice sounded sorrowful. “His dementia is getting worse, and with my bad heart, I suppose they’re right. But I made them wait until after Christmas before we moved him.”
Grandpa didn’t look up but stared blankly at an old Western movie. Cowboys chased across the screen, guns blazing, the dramatic action music at a volume that hurt her ears. Roz knew her parents had made arrangements for Grandpa to go to a memory care facility in January. This would be his last Christmas at home with the family. He was so huge, and Grandma so small Roz understood her parents’ concern.
“Ken, dear.” Grandma raised her voice. “Look who’s come to see us. It’s little Rosalind.”
When he made no response, Grandma turned away, choking back tears. “We need some coffee, don’t you think, Roz dear?” She fled back to the kitchen.
Roz squatted beside her grandfather’s chair. The telltale scent of his pipe tobacco lingered, reminding her of happier days. His massive, grizzled hands were still discolored from years of tapping pipe tobacco. His eyes were dull, unresponsive. She touched his knee, and he glanced down at her hand.
“I’m glad to see you, Grandpa,” she said, finding her voice cracked too. “Can I get you anything?”
He lifted his gaze back toward the television but did not respond.
Roz climbed to her feet and returned to the kitchen and the beckoning aroma of coffee and cinnamon rolls.
“Ken is not always that docile,” Grandma told her. She brought a plate of rolls and sat at the kitchen table. “When he doesn’t understand things or doesn’t want to do what I ask him to do, he has bouts of anger.”
Roz poured coffee into a mug and stirred in cream. “That’s tough.”
“It’s the worst thing imaginable.”
Roz had been so caught up in her work world that she’d not understood the suffering taking place in her own family. That a man, once so vibrant and alive, could be reduced to an unresponsive and, at times, incoherent shell was impossible to comprehend. Her heart ached for her grandmother. If Grandpa Henry could understand, he would not want to be a burden to his wife or live this kind of life.
“But we’ll have a wonderful Christmas.” Grandma rallied, her natural optimism surfacing, and offered Roz a cinnamon roll. “Carl’s family is coming. We should have a nice time.”
Carl was her father’s younger brother. His brood of five kids and his second wife surely would enliven the small house.
A knock sounded on the kitchen door, and Cooper pushed it open. “It’s just me.”
“Come in!” Grandma stood up to hold the door, because he carried a big box.
“I got the last garbage disposal at Dickens’ Hardware,” Cooper said, setting down the box. His gaze slid past Roz.
Big box stores had yet to find their way to Dickens, and the lone hardware store did a booming business.
“Thank goodness.” Grandma Tress sat down, shaking her head with relief. “It’s my lucky day.”
Roz wondered how her grandmother could find joy in such a mundane act as getting a new garbage disposal given the circumstances of her everyday life. Maybe there was a lesson here for her. Maybe instead of running from her recent personal disasters, she should rejoice she could spend more time with her grandparents.
Roz sipped her coffee and watched as Cooper knelt beside the door to the kitchen cabinet and quietly began to work under the sink. Her heart ached for him. She felt shallow and self-absorbed, mourning a jerk of a boyfriend when Cooper had suffered a real loss. She thought he looked completely different from when they were dating. To start, she’d never seen him in a beard or dressed so casually. Today, he wore a red and black flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and brown work boots. His brown hair looked as if it could use a comb and a good cut. Roz couldn’t see his face but remembered the sad blue eyes from earlier. It didn’t take an Einstein to see he was suffering.
He worked quickly, seeming competent. He knew what he was doing.
“What are your plans for Christmas Eve, Cooper, dear?”
Cooper glanced over his shoulder at Grandma Tress. “Nothing much.”
“Just as I thought,” Grandma said with a huff. “You have no plans. That means you’ll eat dinner with us. We’ll have plenty.”
Cooper’s gaze briefly touched Roz, then he returned to Grandma. “I couldn’t impose upon you, Mrs. Henry.”
“Nonsense. You’ll eat with us and take part in the ornament exchange.”
The ornament exchange was a family tradition. Instead of worrying what presents to buy for others in the family, each of them gifted a Christmas ornament—either something for the tree or another kind of holiday decoration like a wreath or a table arrangement. Roz loved the tradition. Back home, she had a box full of ornaments from her birth year forward, and she treasured each one. It was a good way to adorn her tree without having to resort to commonplace glass balls and everyday silver garland.
Cooper objected again, regarding Roz once more with a wary eye. Grandma hushed him. “Cooper Brown, you know perfectly well you have no place to go Christmas Eve. Humor an old lady, won’t you?”
He laughed. “You’re not an old lady, Mrs. Henry, but I’ll stop by.”
“Good for you.” Grandma glanced at Roz. Was that a conniving look in her eyes?
Roz cocked her head, shaking it ever so slightly to let her grandmother know she understood what she was up to. Matchmaking. Grandma arched an eyebrow, acknowledging Roz’s objection.
Back in high school, she and Cooper had been an item, until college took her away from Dickens. Her parents had moved to Boston her freshman year, so Roz didn’t see Cooper much after that. They lost touch, but that was primarily her doing. He had wanted to continue their relationship when she moved away, but Roz broke it off, wanting to explore the opportunities a bigger community presented. She had been uncharacteristically unkind the last time they spoke, and she carried that remorse with her to this day. Then she heard he’d married. She remembered the pang of regret she’d felt when she got the news and had wondered at her reaction then. Life went on though. She buried Cooper’s memory deep inside by immersing herself in her new job in Chicago and several relationships, and finally the fledgling romance with Justin. Judging by the way Cooper was ignoring her, he had not forgotten their last conversation either.
Soon Cooper stood at the sink, ran water, and turned on the garbage disposal. A grinding sound filled the room. He flicked off the switch. “Looks to be working.”
“Thank you, Cooper. Let me get my purse.”
Grandma departed the kitchen leaving them alone. Cooper avoided Roz’s eyes and collected his tools, putting the old disposal into the new one’s box. Roz was unsure what to say, so she said nothing.
Grandma returned with her checkbook and sat down to write the check. “I have another favor to ask you, Cooper,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. What’s that?”
“I can’t leave Ken alone, so I haven’t gotten a tree. Will you and Roz pick one out for me tomorrow? I’d very much appreciate it.”
Cooper hesitated.
“Roz knows just the kind of tree I like.” Grandma handed him the check for his work. “You don’t mind going with Cooper, do you, dear?”
“Of course not.”
But did Cooper mind? Roz had the distinct impression that the town plumber had no desire to go Christmas tree shopping with the old girlfriend who had once lived next door.
Chapter 2
GRANDMA TRESS WAS RIGHT. He had nowhere to go Christmas Eve, or Christmas Day, either. He’d already mailed gifts to his parents, and he had no other close relatives in town. Cooper scraped a hand down his face. He’d lived under a dark cloud for too long. Perhaps he should be thankful Mrs. Henry had spotted his exhausting depression.
To top it all, Roz was back. She hadn’t seen her grandparents for five years. Enough time for him to put her out of his mind and marry. Enough time for him to start a new life, only to lose it just as fast.
His jaw tightened. He’d loved her once, but she’d left him for college and the bright lights of New York and then Chicago. He’d kept up with her career for a while. Mrs. Henry saw to that until he married. Then she’d backed off. He always felt the older woman understood why he finally married. After all, he was a plumber, not the kind of guy a college-educated woman with a fancy job would want.
She looked the same. Tall, unlike Brittany whose head hadn’t even cleared his shoulder, and thin with dark brown hair tumbling like a heavy mane, dark eyes, and very kissable lips. At least they had been. But he’d noticed the dark circles and worry lining Roz’s eyes. There was an air of defeat about her as if she’d lost something too. He recognized it easily. After all, he was the poster boy of loss.
Unless he got an emergency call, he had no jobs before Christmas. Going to pick out a Christmas tree wasn’t a big deal except he was going with Roz. Cooper backed out of his garage and moved his truck into the Henry’s driveway. He climbed out, drawing a deep breath, and strolled up to his neighbor’s front door. Might well as act as if he wasn’t nervous.
He clawed his fingers through his hair, then knocked.
COOPER ARRIVED AT MID-morning the next day. His truck was parked in the driveway.
“If we’re picking up a tree, I thought we’d need my truck
.” His voice was deep and no-nonsense.
“Good thinking!” Roz shut the door behind her and paused to zip up her calf-length down coat. Good for cold winters in the Windy City, she knew it was perfect for her needs this morning.
Cooper opened the passenger side door for her. She climbed in, and as he shut the door, she reached for the seatbelt. His truck was clean and orderly, very much like Cooper himself. It didn’t look like the cliché of a work truck. There wasn’t a dropped burger wrapper, empty drink cup, or rusty tool in evidence.
Joining her on the bench seat, Cooper pulled the driver’s door shut. “I thought we’d go to Gridley Meadows Farm.”
“Sounds good.” Roz glanced at his humorless face. “It is tradition to get a live tree from Gridley’s.”
Cooper nodded, turned the ignition, and backed out of the driveway. The tree farm was several miles outside of town. They raised thousands of trees and had quite a holiday operation.
Roz folded her gloved hands on her lap. Cooper surely didn’t relish this trip with her. She could tell by the set of his mouth and the squint of his eyes. Well, she wasn’t too enthusiastic either. After all, he’d gotten married, seeming to forget their childhood promise. But then again, she’d forgotten their promise when she’d left Dickens that summer and never came back. The small town wasn’t the same as it had been for her as a child. She had bigger plans.
But those hadn’t turned out so well, had they?
“I’m glad you’re here for Christmas,” Cooper said quietly. “Grandma Tress will take it hard when they move Grandpa to that nursing home.”
Roz could understand his worry. “I’m glad I came too. I had no idea how bad Grandpa has gotten.”
He glanced to his right, as if accusing her of shirking her responsibilities. Her own gaze crumpled under his scrutiny. She pressed against the seatback. Heavy silence filled the truck cab. Cooper navigated the winding roads, old carriage roads paved over and flanked by stone walls dating back to the Colonial era.