Christmas in Snow Valley

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  “Hey, Benny!”

  At April’s voice, he turned and his face broke into a smile. She went to the side of the bed and leaned over the padded rail to kiss his cheek. “How are you, buddy? I’ve missed you.”

  Ben’s smile got bigger and he gave a happy little moan.

  Scott came to her side and April put a hand on his arm. “This is Scott,” she said to Ben. “Do you remember seeing his picture? He’s going to be your brother-in-law.” She began to gently straighten the sheets and blankets that had become tangled around Ben’s frail legs.

  “Hi Ben,” Scott smiled.

  Ben’s arms jerked in excitement.

  “Don’t get too worked up or Mom will kick us out,” April cautioned.

  They stayed a few minutes longer, but it was obvious Ben needed sleep. April ran her fingers through his hair. He’d been the only one to inherit their father’s straight brown hair; the rest of her siblings had their mother’s blonde curls. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Wow. That’s a big job. How do your parents manage?” Scott whispered once they were in the hallway.

  April shook her head. “It’s hard, especially now he’s so big and heavy. But, they have outside help and …” her throat felt tight and she trailed off. “I guess they manage because they have no choice. What else are they supposed to do?”

  “Has he ever been able to talk?”

  “He talks in his own way,” she said.

  Ben had never spoken a word, but somehow she had always known what he was saying.

  “What’s with the van? Trevor said you got it a few months ago?” April asked when they got back to the kitchen.

  “Cool, huh?” Eleven-year-old Emily was setting the table. April grabbed a handful of silverware from the drawer and followed behind her sister, setting a spoon at each place.

  Their mother looked up from the cutting board where she was slicing bread. “Oh, that’s right, I didn’t tell you. There’s even a lift for the wheelchair.”

  April glanced around the kitchen. The costs of the farm and of Ben’s illness meant her parents had always struggled for money. They weren’t poverty stricken, but there was never any extra either. She didn’t begrudge anything that made Ben’s life easier, but they had priced vans with wheelchair lifts before and they were ridiculously expensive. Where had her parents found that kind of money?

  “Must have been pretty pricey,” she finally said.

  “Yes. But we have been very blessed; it was a gift.”

  “From whom?”

  Her mother glanced uneasily at Scott. “They want to remain anonymous,” she said.

  “So you don’t know who it was?” April pressed, catching the hint her mother did not want to have this conversation around Scott, but choosing to ignore it.

  “Your father and I know, but they didn’t want us to tell anyone else.”

  April sorted quickly through her memory for anyone with significant money and came up blank. “Tell me,” she urged.

  “Absolutely not,” her mother said, her tone clearly stated the conversation was over. “I hope we’re not making you wait too long for dinner.” She turned to Scott, who had taken a seat on a barstool. “Glenn should be in soon.

  “We eat late around here,” April explained. “The cows always come first.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Scott gave them a good natured smile and reached for a carrot stick from the relish tray.

  April’s father appeared a few minutes later. He was a tall man with brown hair going gray at the temples and leathery skin that bore testimony to long days working in the sun. A few minutes later, Trevor came stomping in from the mudroom, his cheeks pink and radiating cold.

  After introductions all around, they gathered at the table. Emily blessed the food and April’s mom ladled out generous portions of beef stew.

  “I miss your bread, Mom,” April spread butter on a thick slice of homemade wheat bread.

  “It’s easy to make,” her mom hinted. “I could give you the recipe.”

  “I’ve tried,” April said, “mine never turns out as good as yours.”

  “That’s because it always tastes better when someone else has done the work,” her dad teased.

  “What time is your flight in the morning?” April changed the subject.

  “Seven,” her dad said. “So we’ll need to leave here by about four.”

  “Yikes. Are you ready?”

  “Not quite,” her mother shook her head. “I’m packing shorts and sundresses while I’m staring at three feet of snow out the window. I can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

  “I’m glad you’re going. You guys never get away,” April replied.

  “Yeah, you need a vacation,” Emily put in. “But you have to promise to bring me something from Disneyland.”

  “It’s an anniversary trip, goofball. They’re not going to Disneyland,” Trevor told her.

  “I don’t know. We get home only two days before Christmas and there’s still a lot to do,” their mother fretted.

  “That’s what you get for marrying in the middle of December, an inconvenient anniversary,” April said with a laugh. “Stop worrying, Mom. It’ll be fine.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about the chores,” her dad said. “Trevor is in charge of the goats and Wade will take care of everything else.”

  April froze. “Wait … you asked Wade?”

  She was sure everyone could hear her heart hammering in the sudden silence. Trevor and Emily looked nervously around the table at the adults.

  “Well … yes,” April’s dad said after a pause. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

  April squeezed her suddenly shaking hands together under the table. “No, it’s not a problem,” she insisted. “It’s totally fine.”

  “Is there something I should know about?” Scott asked with raised eyebrows.

  “You haven’t told him about Wade?” Trevor burst out incredulously before April could answer.

  She threw him a quick glare before turning to Scott. “There’s nothing to tell. We dated a bit in high school, that’s all.”

  Emily snorted. “Yeah … a bit.”

  “Stop it, all of you!” April said hotly. She stared at her bowl, her appetite gone. There were dozens of farmers in Snow Valley who could have covered for her dad, why had he asked Wade?

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Who needs more stew? Scott?”

  After dinner April helped clean up while Scott unloaded the car. He made several trips to bring in their bags and the presents, which Emily helped him arrange under the Christmas tree in the living room.

  “All set?” April looked up as he came into the kitchen. She was at the sink washing the bread pans.

  Scott moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Your mom put me in your old room,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Does that mean I kicked you out?”

  “I’m sleeping in Emily’s room,” April replied. “I’ll be fine.”

  He drew her closer. “You have no idea how badly I wish we were already married,” he growled into her hair.

  April squirmed; she wasn’t in the mood for romance. “I need to finish the dishes.”

  Scott loosened his hold. “When you’re done, can we take a walk?”

  It was almost ten and the world was dark and peaceful, the stars making a tapestry of light across the inky sky. The silence was broken by the rustlings of the cattle and the squeaking of the snow under their feet as April and Scott walked down the road away from the house.

  April shivered and shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. She didn’t stop walking as she threw her head back to look at the sky. “Look how many stars there are. They're brighter here than anywhere else.”

  Scott looped his arm around her shoulders and they walked in silence for a few minutes until finally April became too dizzy and had to pull her gaze back to the road.

  “So,” Scott said, “are you going to tell me a
bout him?”

  She knew it was coming. After the scene at dinner, of course he would have questions about Wade. So why did her throat suddenly feel so tight?

  “I told you, he’s an old friend from high school,” she stammered.

  “Come on. I saw how everyone was acting, especially you. There’s more to it than that.”

  She sighed. “He was my boyfriend. We dated, we broke up, I moved away, I met you. End of story.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that’s not the whole story?” He wouldn’t let her off so easy.

  “I guess you could say we were kind of a thing,” she admitted after a pause.

  Scott stopped and turned to face her, dropping his arm from her shoulders. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, just a … thing. We became friends in grade school and it lasted all the way through high school. Everyone thought we’d get married.” She forced a laugh, hoping he hadn’t caught the pang of regret in her voice. “It seems ridiculous now.”

  Scott was quiet, his breath cloudy in the cold air.

  “You’ve had other girlfriends,” April pointed out.

  He nodded. “That's not the issue. The issue is you’re still hung up on him.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “April, please, I’m not stupid. This is not a normal reaction.”

  “We broke up during my first year of college and it was … ugly,” she said finally. “We both said hurtful things and we left it that way.”

  “Yet, for some reason, he’s doing chores for your dad,” Scott pointed out.

  “He really bonded with my family,” April said. It felt like she’d been punched in the stomach; she hadn’t expected the memories to hurt so much. “We were only school friends for a while, but Wade’s home life wasn’t the best. My dad hired him to move sprinkler pipes the summer before sixth grade and after that, he started hanging around here a lot.”

  The memory of young Wade formed in her mind – skinny and sunburned, hauling sprinkler pipes through a field of alfalfa almost as tall as he was. The long metal pipes were heavy and awkward, but he never complained and never asked for help. Eventually he moved on to other chores and by the time they were in high school, he could run the farm practically as well as her father.

  “Oh, I see,” Scott said cynically. “So he became the son Ben was supposed to have been, is that it?”

  April paused. She’d never thought of it that way before. To her, Ben had always just been Ben and his condition was as much a part of him as his big eyes and long eyelashes. Maybe it was different for her parents. As much as they loved him, maybe there was also pain, the loss of the way things could have been.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Scott gathered her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said, his lips against her temple. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I know,” April said, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cold cheek to his. “Please don’t worry about Wade; it’s ancient history. I love you.” She turned her head to meet his lips for a long kiss.

  “I’m glad we got that worked out,” Scott said when they broke apart. “Can we go back inside now? I’m freezing!”

  April laughed and they turned toward home.

  Chapter Three

  APRIL SAID GOODNIGHT TO SCOTT and went to her parents’ room. Her dad was already asleep, but her mother was still packing – though there were a lot more clothes piled around the open suitcase than were actually in it.

  “Did you get Scott settled?” she asked, looking up from the skirt she was folding.

  April nodded and sat down at the foot of the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her dad. “Do you like him?”

  “He seems great; I’m excited to get to know him better,” her mother said. “Do you need any refreshers on how to take care of Ben?”

  “I don’t think so,” April said. “Nothing has changed, has it?”

  “Just that Donna has taken over his bathing. And she helps him in the bathroom whenever she’s here. Having her instead of us seems less embarrassing for him.”

  April nodded. “He’s still eating okay?”

  “Yes, just make sure to feed him little pieces and he needs the nutritional supplement with every meal,” her mother replied. She picked up a bottle of travel sized shampoo and frowned at it. “Will this be enough for the whole trip, do you think?”

  “Better take two,” April advised. She scratched her fingernails over the yarn knots on the quilt covering the bed. “I don’t see why dad asked Wade to do the chores. It’s going to be so awkward.”

  “Only if you make it awkward.”

  “I won’t make it anything, because I don’t plan to see him,” April grumbled, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. She did want to see Wade again … maybe.

  “If you’re not going to see him, then you don’t need to worry about it, do you?” her mother said calmly.

  “Why couldn’t dad find someone else?”

  Her mother removed several items from the suitcase. “You know, just because Wade isn’t a part of your life anymore doesn’t mean he isn’t part of ours. He comes over quite often.”

  “I didn’t know that, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her mother gave her a long look. “Sweetheart, you always get so upset when we mention Wade, I wasn’t about to open that can of worms.”

  “I’m not upset,” April burst out. Her dad stirred and she threw a guilty look in his direction. “I’m not upset,” she continued in a softer voice. “But what about Scott? He’s not going to like Wade coming over every day. You’re not being fair to him.”

  “I understand,” her mother said, a hint of steel in her voice. “But, is it fair to expect your dad to take time training someone to milk the cows and do the other chores when Wade already knows how and is willing to help?”

  “No,” April muttered, plucking at a long piece of yarn on the quilt.

  “I’m sure the three of you can act like adults and everything will be fine. Besides, as you said, you don’t have to see him.”

  April knew her parents had been extremely saddened by her breakup with Wade. They never directly interfered, but they had dropped plenty of hints over the years that maybe the relationship was not dead and they should try again.

  But, they didn’t know about Twin Falls.

  “So that’s what Wade does now?” April finally asked. “He’s farming?”

  Her mother wrapped the cord around her blow dryer and put it in the suitcase. “Wade bought the Eddington farm last year and has been fixing it up. He also does something with computer programming, but he’s never really gone into details, says it’s pretty boring.” She began filling in the space around the blow dryer with rolled socks. “I hate packing,” she murmured, almost to herself.

  April had been to the Eddington farm once in junior high, when she’d been paired with Anoria Eddington for a class project. It was some distance from town, up a small canyon. A pretty spot, but totally unsuited for a farm. The fields were sloped and rocky – hard to plant, hard to water, hard to harvest. He’d never get good crops there.

  What was he thinking?

  “Computers are boring as opposed to shoveling manure and driving a tractor in circles all day,” she muttered, unable to keep a note of sarcasm out of her voice.

  “I remember a time when you didn’t mind riding a tractor in circles all day,” her mother pressed on the clothes inside the suitcase to smash them down and gave her a steady look.

  April didn’t want to think of those summer days she had spent perched on the fender of a tractor while Wade drove the plow, the seeder, the swather, or the baler around her dad’s fields. She’d cling with one hand to the edge of the fender and with the other to the back of the seat, Wade’s back solid and warm against her arm. It wasn’t boring at all.

  “You want him to be happy, don’t you?” her mother asked.

  April shrugged. The state of Wade’s happiness
was something she tried not to dwell on.

  Later, after she crept into Emily’s room and slipped into the spare bed, she lay awake for a long time, listening to her sister’s deep, even breathing and fighting back the memories that seemed determined to surface.

  It was still dark when she woke a few hours later to see her parents off. The fire in the wood burning stove was out and April shivered as she pulled on a pair of wooly socks and an orange Boise State University sweatshirt that didn’t really match her purple pajama pants. She gathered her unruly hair into a ponytail and looked forward to going back to bed once they were gone.

  After hugs and kisses and a barrage of last minute instructions from both her parents, April watched from the living room window as they drove down the road. Another set of headlights turned into the lane toward the house and the two vehicles stopped side-by-side for a moment, the drivers obviously having a brief conversation before continuing on.

  It was too dark to see the car coming toward her and April was puzzled for a minute. But a quick glance at the clock reminded her, it was chore time and Wade had come to milk the cows.

  Her pulse quickened. Hiding from anyone in a town as small as Snow Valley wasn’t easy, but she had tried. When she was home, she had stayed on the farm as much as possible and trips to town were usually quick and filled with anxiety. It helped that Wade avoided her as actively as she avoided him. In over two years she had only seen him once.

  April turned away from the window as the headlights reached the house and made the turn toward the barns.

  She told herself she wasn’t going to the kitchen because she could see the milk barn from the window. She was going to the kitchen because it was almost morning and she was up anyway, so she may as well make a batch of muffins for breakfast. It was purely a coincidence she could see the barns.

  The milk barn was some distance from the house and the kitchen was dark; Wade wouldn’t be able to see her. Probably. But, better not to take chances. She hid behind the curtain at the window by the table and peeked out as the truck came to a stop, triggering the motion sensor floodlights mounted on the barn.