by ID Johnson
Chapter 6
Delaney was attempting to concentrate on Nana’s directions as she gingerly placed one of several glass snowmen on the fireplace mantel, though there was either a disconnect between the speaker and the task-performer or Nana wasn’t quite sure exactly where she wanted each one and was changing her mind as she went. Delaney thought it was likely the latter, but since she had nothing better to do on her Sunday afternoon (other than sit around and wonder what Josh Taylor was doing!) she decided to humor her grandmother by making the miniscule changes as she was told.
“Move that one just a bit to the left,” Nana instructed from her recliner. “No, not that far. Back a little. That’s good. Now, let’s go back to the one on the end, the one with the silk hat. No not that one. The other one. Yes, him. Can you turn him just a bit to the right? Not that much….”
Delaney knew how important these keepsakes were to her grandmother. Most of them had been gifts from her grandfather, and every single one of them had a story. “How about this?” she asked, giving it a teeny tiny nudge. “Is that enough or maybe a bit more.”
“That looks nice,” Nana assured her. “Are your arms getting tired, dear? Do you want to rest a spell?”
Glad to hear that she had finally perfected the display, at least for now, Delaney came back down from her tippy toes and returned her arms to her sides. “Maybe a short break,” she conceded. “I think we only have about five more to go.”
“I do love this time of year,” Nana said with a smile as Delaney cozied up next to the fireplace in an old rocker. “All the lights are so beautiful. The smells bring back such memories. I just wish your grandpa were here.” Her voice trailed off in sadness, and Delaney felt her heart melt just a bit.
“I know you miss him,” Delaney said, a sympathetic look on her face. “He loved Christmas, too. Didn’t he?”
“Oh, yes,” Nana said, the smile returning to her face. “He would go out and chop down a tree, bring it in, and we’d decorate it. He loved picking out presents for the kids. He got you a doll once, when you were just a little thing. Do you remember that?”
“I do,” Delaney nodded, the thought brightening her mood. “I loved that doll. I think it’s still up in the attic at home.”
“You know, when I was little, we didn’t have much, but my papa—that’s what I called my father, Papa—he would always make sure us kids had something to unwrap Christmas morning. There were twelve of us, you know?”
While she did know that, hearing it always made her shake her head. “I know,” Delaney said, not able to imagine having so many brothers and sisters.
“Sometimes it was just a corn husk doll, or a used book. Once, he gave me and each of my sisters a new ribbon for our hair. Oh, but we treasured those items, we really did. Because we knew how hard he worked for them. Nowadays, kids just expect their folks to give ‘em whatever they ask for, no questions asked. And I suppose most parents do just that. But those kids miss out on learning the value of a gift. It’s real sad, now ain’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Delaney agreed, thinking of Cameron and his family and how he was doing everything he could to make sure his younger siblings had some nice gifts for Christmas.
“At Sunday school this morning, Brother Mitchell talked about how important it is that we concentrate on the gift of Jesus this time of year. I think we’re beginning to lose that, as a country. Don’t you?”
Her class had discussed a similar topic, and Delaney couldn’t help but nod along. “I do think it would be nice if things were simpler. People are so busy now. Sometimes I wonder if they even slow down enough to notice what’s going on around them. That’s one of the nice things about having those tables in the bakery though,” she mused. “Seeing families come in and spend a quiet moment together over a special treat warms my heart. I hope that the children will remember those times for many years to come.”
Nana beamed at her proudly. “You’re such a good girl, Delaney,” she said. “I know someday you are going to make someone a loving wife, and you’ll be one of those mothers who takes time for the important things in life.”
Though she wasn’t quite sure how her grandmother had made the leap from her comment to such an accolade, Delaney said, “Thank you, Nana. I hope so.”
“I know so,” Nana confirmed. “I know you’re still a bit down about that boy—what’s his name?”
“Bradley,” Delaney supplied, the smile gone from her face. She was fairly certain Nana could remember his name and just chose not to speak it when she could get away with it.
“But you just wait and see. There’s someone so much better out there for you.”
“Thanks, Nana,” Delaney said again. “But I don’t think it’s Viola’s grandson Mervin.” Pulling herself out of the chair, hoping to alter the conversation, Delaney approached the mantel. “Now, where shall we place the next Frosty?”
“How about you put that one with the green scarf over there next to the one holding the candy cane?” she directed.
Delaney pulled the requested snowman out of the box on the coffee table and put him where she supposed Nana wanted him to go. Once adjustments were called out, she made them, trying to hide her smile. Someday, she’d see a snowman and miss these moments.
After the last of the snowmen was placed—at least tentatively, barring any changes in Nana’s perception—Delaney went back to the rocking chair. “Do you want me to get the tree down from the attic next?” she asked. Sunday was about the only day Delaney had to work on projects such as this one. Even though the day before she hadn’t had to cover any shifts, and she’d let Cameron pick up some hours as well, most Saturdays she was working on other bakery related tasks—such as advertising, accounting, and ordering, just to name a few—and though she tried to save Sunday for church and family, it was also her big home project day.
“You know, sitting here reminiscing about the trees your grandfather used to bring in, I think I might want to have a real tree this year,” Nana said, her face puckered up in deep thought.
Delaney was surprised. She could never remember Nana having a real tree. She’d always said she didn’t like the sap or the needles, and as soon as the fake trees started looking remotely like real ones, she’d been the first to pick hers up from the Montgomery Ward catalog. “Really?” she asked. “I’d love to have a real tree if you’re sure you’re not worried about it making a mess.”
Nana chuckled. “Sometimes life gets messy. I guess I’ve learned that by now.”
“Well, all right then,” Delaney smiled. “A real Christmas tree it is!”
“Do you know some place where we can get one? It doesn’t have to be today, I suppose.”
Suddenly, Delaney realized exactly where she needed to get her Christmas tree. “Yes, Nana, I do know where we can get a real tree,” she replied, trying to keep the grin off of her face.
Nana was not fooled. “Delaney? What’s that expression, dear? Your eyes are gleaming like an old alley cat in the full moon.”
Bursting out into a fit of laughter over her grandmother’s comparison, Delaney took a moment to regain her composure. “It’s nothing, Nana. We just had a Christmas tree farmer come into the bakery last weekend. I think it would be nice to get our tree from a small business if we can.”
Not being one to miss a thing, Nana said, “I see. And who was this tree farmer?”
Trying to keep her face composed and the color from her cheeks, Delaney cleared her throat and said, “I think his name was… Josh or something. I’m not sure. He was from Shepherdstown. I’ll have to look into it.”
With a broad smile, Nana asked, “And was this Josh a good-looking feller?”
Giggling at the phrasing of the question but trying to feign disinterest, Delaney replied, “You know, I didn’t really notice. He was nice, though. We just chatted for a few minutes. It’s been over a week. It just stuck in my mind because I don’t get to talk to too many small business owners from surrounding areas.”
Delaney laughed, picturing her grandfather holding a giant wad of tangled up Christmas lights. “I put them away very carefully last year, so I’m sure they’re just fine,” she assured her nana.
“Good. Now, where’s that remote? I want to see if there’s any good Christmas pictures on yet. I sure hope they play White Christmas soon. I love that movie.”
“Nana, the remote is on your lap,” Delaney replied, her forehead crinkling in concern.
“Yes, of course it is,” Nana said with a dismissive shrug.
Delaney eyed her carefully but didn’t say anything more as she went about taking the snowman box back to the attic. Nana had forgotten her show again one day this week. She’d also forgotten to feed the barn cats, a job she still insisted on doing, even though Delaney didn’t like her stooping down to fill the bowls on the back porch, and one day she’d come home from the bakery to find Nana’s pocketbook in the refrigerator. She said she’d gotten it out to check her wallet for a business card for a local flower shop that made deliveries she’d gotten from a friend at church and was carrying it with her when she went about making dinner. She must’ve set it down in the fridge by mistake. Delaney understood that everyone had mental slip ups from time to time, but the more frequently they began to happen, the more concerned she became, and she wondered if it was about time to go visit a doctor about Nana’s memory and focus.
She made her way up the narrow steps to the small attic space and slipped the box over the lip onto the floor, thankful that she wouldn’t have to haul the Christmas tree down from its corner this year. The smell of mildew and dust was overwhelming, and she rushed back down the ladder and shut the door attempting to hold her breath the whole time. She knew people who loved old things, and while Delaney appreciated memories of days gone by, she would rather avoid that smell when given the choice.
Making her way to her room to get out her laptop and look over the month’s budget, Delaney thought about her grandma’s suggestion. Surely, she would be able to find Taylor Tree Farm online and go there to pick out a tree. While it was tempting to stray from her work and look it up right then, she decided not to. What if the website was full of pictures of Josh, a wife, and smiling children? She wasn’t ready for something like that—not now anyway. Besides, she’d need to enlist someone to go to the tree farm with her; approaching a man she’d just met on her own seemed a bit scary. This mission called for a best friend, and since it was time for her and Melody to do a little reconnecting anyway, Delaney resolved to question her oldest pal first to see if she might be up for a bit of recon—and Christmas tree shopping. She decided to talk to Melody later and started looking over the budget, impressed with the bottom line she was seeing. Assuming that Melody had something to do with that as well, she made a mental note to ask her about her advertising campaign. If Melody’s ads had brought Josh into her bakery, then her friend definitely deserved a lifetime supply of cocoa and all the muffins she could eat. And with these figures, Delaney could afford it!
The week after his excursion to Charles Town passed quickly for Josh as he made his deliveries during the day and helped his father tend to the trees in the evenings. The village was only open on weekends, so they had all week to make sure that there were enough trees available for the next weekend, but since they’d sold most of the supply they had on hand the day before, his Sunday afternoon was full of trips to the village from the various locations around the farm bringing in fresh trees. He also used his tractor to bring in load after load of trees that families had cut down themselves from the selection of trees closer to the village. At least he could listen to the Redskins on the radio.
The farm opened for business after church on Sundays, and just as they had been busy the day before, the parking lot was practically full by the time Josh returned with his second load of trees. He wasn’t sure where all of these people were coming from, but he loved to see the smiles on their faces when he dropped off the trees they’d picked out themselves. One little girl was so excited, she couldn’t stop jumping up and down, shouting, “This is the best Christmas ever!”
Josh truly hoped it would be, though he felt like his Christmas was getting lost a bit in the hustle and bustle of helping out at the farm. He’d yet to watch a Christmas movie or hang an ornament, though his mother had done a spectacular job of decorating the cabin, as she always did.
As busy as he was, Josh had spent a great deal of time during the week in solace, and in those quiet times, making deliveries or moving trees across the property, his mind wandered to that pretty girl he’d met the week before. Unfortunately, none of his transports that week had brought him anywhere near Charles Town, with most of the lots he visited being in the opposite direction, into Maryland and Pennsylvania, but he decided if he didn’t see Delaney soon, he’d have to stop by for another mug of cocoa. After all, there was simply no replicating that taste.
“You wanna go help Mom out in the shop for a minute?” Josh’s dad called as he pulled the tractor to a stop near the shaking station. “I think she sold that giant Santa—the one that dances and sings—and the little old lady who’s purchased him is going to need some help getting him loaded into her vehicle.”
Josh knew his father’s back wasn’t in the best shape, so most of these types of activities fell to the younger man, which was no problem. Recalling when her mother had put that Santa on display a few years ago, Josh gave a chuckle. His father said she’d never sell that thing, and though it took her a while, clearly he was wrong. “Sure, Dad,” he said. “I guess there really is a customer for everything.”
Lydia was chatting with an older woman Josh didn’t recognize as he made his way into the shop. “Here’s my son,” she said, walking over to rest her hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be happy to help you get Santa in your car.”
“Oh, goody,” the older woman replied. “This is such a lovely place. I’m so glad I happened upon it. Everything is just so festive. It really reminds me of a time gone by.”
“We’re so glad you stopped in,” Lydia said with a smile.
“There’s just one thing,” the woman continued, gesturing with one hand at the Styrofoam cup she held in the other, “this cocoa is not nearly as tasty as the rest of your baked goods.” She held out the cup for Lydia, who took it from her promptly.
“I’m sorry,” Lydia said, clearly a bit embarrassed. “It’s just the ready mix kind.”
“I understand, dear,” the woman said with a smile. “And it only cost a quarter. Still, your cookies were divine and I loved the cinnamon almonds. Just needed something tastier to wash them down with.”
Before she could say anything more, Josh asked, “Shall we get Santa loaded into your sleigh?”
The woman giggled. “If my old station wagon is a sleigh, then I guess so, son.”
Catching his mother’s eye, Josh winked and approached the unboxed Santa, trying to determine the best way to go about picking him up. He decided to wrap his arms around Santa’s midsection, and Lydia rushed to get the door so that he could squeeze through, the older lady following.
All the way to the car, the customer chatted about her grandchildren and how much they would enjoy seeing this dancing Santa when they came to visit for Christmas in a few weeks. By the time Josh had Santa snuggled into the backseat, he felt he knew all there was to know about the Chambers family and their traveling plans. He didn’t mind though; getting to meet new and interesting people was a part of this job he truly enjoyed. It certainly beat sit
ting at a desk in an office building surrounded by the same few dozen people all day long.
“Have a Merry Christmas, Mrs. Chambers,” Josh said, waving as the woman climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You, too, son,” she replied, smiling broadly. “I hope you have some Christmas magic in your life this year. You’ve certainly help spread some!”
Josh thanked her and watched as she pulled out of her parking spot before making his way back toward the shop to speak to his mom. He hoped he had half the energy Mrs. Chambers displayed when he was her age.
Lydia was rearranging some items to fill in the space left by the Santa. “Now, what in the world can we put here that will be as eye catching and interesting as that Santa?”
“I’m not sure we have anything that meets that description,” Josh admitted stopping beside her to survey what she’d done so far. He definitely didn’t have an eye for displays and would have to leave that to his mom. “She sure was nice,” he added as his mother puzzled over the placement.
“Yes, although the comment about the cocoa seemed a little unnecessary,” Lydia agreed. “It’s more of an ambiance setter than an actual refreshment. That’s why it’s only a quarter.”
Josh chuckled. He’d wondered if the remark hurt his mother’s feelings. Certainly it had. “Well, maybe some people are used to drinking higher end hot chocolate—like from Starbucks or whatever.”
Lydia waved at him dismissively. “I wish we could charge the three dollars they do for a drink then.”
While he was wondering what size drink his mother was ordering from Starbucks that only cost three dollars, Josh didn’t ask. “I had the best cup of cocoa in Charles Town last Saturday when I stopped by on the way to Winchester.”
She turned to face him now. “You did? I didn’t know you’d stopped in Charles Town.”
Remembering that he hadn’t mentioned it to her for fear he’d accidentally slip up and reference stopping by the antique store and eventually spoil her present, Josh shrugged. “You suggested it. I just wanted to see if your flyer was accurate.”