by ID Johnson
Delaney felt awful for being so pushy. “No, don’t go. I’m sorry.” She reached for Melody’s hand again, and this time hers wasn’t shoved aside. “I promise I won’t mention it again. Here, let me get you a refill.”
Melody held her gaze for a moment, then with a deep sigh, returned to her barstool. Delaney picked up the bright red ceramic mug and crossed to the hot cocoa machine, trying to place her emotions back in check. While concern for Melody’s disposition were certainly part of her reason for asking the series of questions that subsequently agitated her friend, she knew she was also being selfish. Not only did she want to spend more time with Melody, to have the girl back she’d known and loved for so many years, she also expected Melody to go out of her way to help her with a mission she really had no obligation to assist in fulfilling. Delaney felt ridiculous for letting her scheme come between them.
She returned to the counter to see that Melody was taking deep breaths and seemed to have calmed down. Sliding the mug across to her, Delaney offered a sympathetic smile, afraid to say more lest she upset Melody to an even greater degree.
“I’m sorry, Delaney. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.” Melody smiled in return and took a sip of the freshly topped-off cocoa.
Shaking her head, Delaney replied, “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I’ve hardly had a chance to speak to you at all since you’ve gotten back, and I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
Melody looked her in the eyes and said, “It’s okay.” She seemed to consider the situation for a moment before she continued. “You know, just because I can’t get my Christmas tree with you doesn’t mean that we can’t go together to pick out your tree. If you still want me to go with you on Saturday, give me a call. We need to spend some quality time together anyway.”
Delaney’s eyes widened. She was shocked to hear her friend come to such a contradictory conclusion so quickly, but she was pleasantly surprised. Deciding to lock her into the agreement before she had second thoughts, Delaney smiled and said, “Thanks, Melody. Oh, I hope you get to meet Josh. He’s really nice.” Thoughts of his beautiful eyes filled her mind, and before she realized it, she was no longer as concerned about offending Melody as she had been a few moments ago, thoughts of Josh consuming her.
“I can’t wait to meet him.” Melody was giggling at her, and Delaney felt the heat in her cheeks again. While she wanted to think of something witty to say in response, a middle-aged woman with a small child next to her was calling for Delaney’s attention and she pushed thoughts of Josh out of her mind for a moment as she turned to attend to her other customer.
A few minutes later, Melody stood and began to gather up her things. Delaney excused herself from a man who was still trying to decide which kind of cookie to try and stepped over. “I’ll give you a call in a day or two and we can work out the details.”
“Okay,” Melody said, still smiling. “It’ll be fun to hang out again.”
“Yes,” Delaney agreed. “I’m really looking forward to it.” It had been so long since she’d had a chance to spend quality time with Melody. Even if she didn’t see Josh, at least she’d get to visit with her friend.
“Have a great afternoon,” Melody called over her shoulder as she headed for the door, and Delaney glanced at the time, wondering where the day had gone. By then, the gentleman was ready to order his treat, and she slid back down to help him, wishing her afternoon help would arrive already so she could go take a short break.
Josh loved the view from the back porch of his parents’ log cabin, particularly when the sky was as clear as it was this evening, and he could see what appeared to be thousands of stars overhead. In the distance, he saw rows of trees covering the hillside, and beyond that, a thin shadow of smoke wound its way into the twilight sky, evidence that someone in the distance was enjoying a cozy fire.
Still stuffed from the delicious dinner of homemade lasagna his mother had made, he found his way out to the solace of the porch, hoping to spend a few moments pondering his predicament. It had been a long week, though he’d gotten little accomplished other than delivering hundreds of trees to different lots in the tri-state area, and while he had a sense of fulfillment at having assisted his parents with that aspect of the farm, he still wasn’t sure what to do about the other lingering questions.
One of the family’s many outside pets, an old bloodhound who was almost as round as he was tall thanks to the scraps he got after dinner each night, waddled his way up the steps and rammed his head into Josh’s hand, insisting he be petted. Chuckling, Josh said, “Hey there, Critter. Have you had a rough day, too?” He scratched the dog between the ears, and when he dropped to his back to have his belly rubbed, Josh complied. “Must be rough living on the land out here, huh?” Of course the dog didn’t respond, and after he’d had his fill of stomach scratching, he flipped over and came to rest on top of Josh’s well-worn work boots.
The door opened and Kent came out, two mugs in his hands. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“No, please,” Josh replied, gesturing toward an Adirondack chair that matched the one he was sitting in.
His father handed him a steaming cup of coffee then sat down, letting out a sigh as he did so. Josh thanked him and took a sip. Like most things in the kitchen, his mother certainly knew how to make a good cup of joe. “What’s Mom up to?” he asked, eyes still focused off in the distance.
“She’s decided that the banister needs some garland,” Kent began, “which means she’s got to make it first.”
Josh chuckled. No store bought garland for the tree lady. “That ought to take her a while,” he replied, resting his mug carefully on the arm of the chair.
“It would take a normal human a while, but your mother will likely have both sides of the railings fully decorated with garland she’s whipped out of the air before you and I can even finish our beverages.”
Though it was a slight exaggeration, picturing his mother waving a wand made of a blue spruce limb and creating perfectly even garlands adorned with pinecones and berries made Josh smile. There was no doubt his mother was amazing, both of his parents were, and he felt very blessed to have each of them.
They settled into a comfortable silence, both content to sit in each other’s company and peer out into the distance without having to say anything at all. Eventually, Critter got stir crazy and lumbered his way off of the porch, which broke the silence enough for Kent to hesitantly ask, “So, how were your deliveries this week?”
“Good,” Josh replied, realizing that was likely just an opening question. “I’m glad we got enough cleared to keep the village fairly stocked. Something tells me we are going to be busy this weekend.”
“It’s nice to have so many customers,” Kent agreed. “This will definitely be our most profitable season yet.”
It was difficult to manage a business that really only made money one time a year, and though his parents worked hard all year long, November and December saw the vast majority of their income. Hearing that this season would set them up nicely for the new year was reassuring. “People seem to be full of Christmas spirit right now, that’s for sure.”
Kent cleared his throat, and without responding to Josh’s remark, he asked, “Have you given what we talked about much thought?” Josh didn’t answer right away, not sure how to continue, so Kent added an unnecessary clarification. “Do you think you might want to take over in a year or two?”
There was so much to consider. He had a life in Washington, one he hadn’t planned on discontinuing for the foreseeable future. While he’d managed to save quite a bit of money since he’d started working at Stokes and Stokes, he wanted to make sure he had enough to provide for a potential family before he took over such a volatile business. Whether it was one year or two really would make a big difference, but Josh wasn’t sure he would even be ready five or ten years from now. With a sigh he hoped didn’t sound too frustrated, Josh replied, “I’ve been thinking about it, Dad. I’m just not cer
tain yet. I think… I think I need some more time to make sure I do what’s best for all of us.”
Saying nothing, Kent took a sip of his coffee and nodded his head. He stared out into the trees, and Josh’s shoulders slumped. His father loved those trees, loved this place. How could he possibly put him in a situation where he might lose all of it? “I’m sorry, Dad….”
“No, don’t apologize,” Kent cut him off. “I understand you need more time. Take all the time you need. It’s not an easy decision. And your mother and I want you to do what’s best for you. If you decide the tree farming business isn’t for you, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
“I can’t imagine all of this being gone,” Josh exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. “I want to do what I can to make it work. But… I love my career—not necessarily my job, I guess, but working with computers, building programs and helping people find solutions to problems they don’t have the information to understand. I have friends in DC, not a lot of them, but some good ones. It’s just hard for me to imagine what I might do with myself the other ten months out of the year.”
“There is always work to be done on the farm,” Kent reminded him, “but maybe you could do both. I know Shepherdstown isn’t as fancy as Washington, DC, and folks around here can’t pay like they can there, but believe it or not, some people here actually do own computers.”
Josh couldn’t help but laugh at his father’s joke. Shepherdstown was small, and people held on to the culture of their hometown life, but of course there were business that needed IT support, people who had home computers that needed fixing. There was a possibility he could find extra work in that capacity to make ends meet and fulfill his need to work with technology. Not to mention, he’d have lots of extra time to work on his app. It might be nice to be his own boss and not have to answer to anyone, particularly people who didn’t understand his work well enough to truly appreciate him.
“Take your time, Son,” Kent assured him, patting his arm. “I’ve got a year or two left in me, I reckon. If I can hold out a while, maybe Payton will want to take over the farm.”
Josh’s eyebrows raised; Payton wasn’t old enough to drive yet. There was no way his father could continue to work as hard as he did now until Payton could take over, if he even wanted to. “Dad, we’ll figure something out, I promise,” Josh said. “I hadn’t really thought about trying to find time to work with computers locally, but let me see what that might entail. If I could make that work, maybe I could find a way to balance the two. And if I have a year or two more to continue with the firm, maybe I can feel more confident financially.”
“All right, Son.” Kent offered him a warm smile and then refocused on the hillside, adjusting his glasses as if he was straining to see a particular tree, and after a long gaze in his father’s direction, Josh turned to look off into the distance as well.
The solace of the country evening may have been interrupted by weightier considerations, but hopefully he could find a way to return his thoughts to more relaxing subjects—such as the app he was mentally designing and a way to solve his mother’s cocoa problems while simultaneously relieving a certain compulsion he was having himself. Josh remembered that Delaney mentioned the fact that she rarely worked on Saturdays, so he knew traveling into Charles Town tomorrow wouldn’t do him any good, but he had checked his schedule and he was set to make a few trips in that general direction early in the week. It might be a few miles out of his way, but surely he could justify the extra time and gas money so that he could inquire about securing some of that award winning cocoa for the village. It seemed like a valid reason to him. As he settled back into his seat, taking a sip of his cooling coffee, he replaced thoughts of the farm and his father’s failing health with visions of deep brown eyes and a warm smile that made his heart skip a beat.
Chapter 8
Delaney pulled her Dodge Charger down the winding lane that led to the top of the hill and her parents’ farmhouse. Though it wasn’t too much bigger than Nana’s, it was made of brick with a large wraparound porch. Driving this road made her remember the long trudge from the school bus every afternoon, usually in the snow it seemed—though she supposed there were plenty of snowless days—and the relief of finally making it to the door where her mother always greeted her, often with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk.
Today, as she pulled in beside her father’s old work truck, her parents were in the yard, a tangle of Christmas lights around their feet wending their way up the porch railing next to a ladder she assumed her father had scaled at some point since the porch seemed to be about half-done. Even though they lived out in the middle of the countryside, the house was situated atop a hill, which not only meant the long walk home ended in an incline, but cars could see the house from several of the country roads in the distance, so her parents always put up a fair share of lights. Besides, her mother loved the twinkling, multi-colored lights, so even if she would’ve been the only person in the world to see them, Delaney was certain the house would be fully decorated each season.
She stepped out into a crunch of snow. While the flakes were no longer coming down, the sky warned more was to come. Delaney was just fine with that, but she pulled her red winter coat closer around her and grabbed her hat and gloves from the car before she joined her parents. “Why didn’t you call? I would have come to help.”
David Young was a big man, but a gentle giant, and as Delaney approached, he dropped the lights he’d had in hand and wrapped his daughter in a hug. “Good morning, honey. We didn’t want to make you get up early on a Saturday and stand in the snow while we worked out all the knots in the lights. Besides, you just hung Nana’s lights all on your own.”
Hanging Nana’s lights was not a big deal since she only asked for them to be placed on the roofline of her front porch, which wasn’t nearly as large as her parents’ nor as high or steep. It had only taken her about an hour. This looked like it might take her parents all day. “I still would’ve helped.”
“Good morning, darling.” Delaney’s mother, Maggie, had the same color of brown hair as her daughter, but Maggie’s was wavy, unruly, she said, so she kept it short and often pulled back with clips on either side of her pretty face, as it was today. When her cheek brushed Delaney’s it was freezing cold, an indicator they’d been standing out here longer than she’d first expected. “Are you excited to go pick out your Christmas tree? How is Melody?”
Ignoring her questions at first, Delaney exclaimed, “Mom, you’re freezing.”
“I’m fine,” her mom assured her. “I’ll go in and warm up in a few minutes.”
“You need a warmer hat,” Delaney suggested, looking at the thin one her mom had on that barely even covered the tips of her ears.
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” her father agreed. He was dressed as if he were about to summit Mt. Everest.
“Maybe Santa will bring me one for Christmas,” Maggie chided. “Now, tell me again where you’re going.”
Delaney felt the color rush to her face but tried to play it off. The last thing she needed was for her parents to know there was a young man involved. “Melody and I are driving over to Shepherdstown. It’s called Taylor Tree Farm. It’s quite the quaint little Christmas village.” Delaney had finally gotten around to searching for the farm online after she’d spoken to Melody earlier in the week, and she was pleasantly surprised at all the farm had to offer. She was honestly shocked she’d never heard of it before.
“And is Melody doing all right?” Maggie continued.
Glancing back at her father, who seemed to be listening though he was now wrestling with a ball of tangled Christmas lights, Delaney replied, “I think she’s doing okay. We haven’t had a chance to spend a lot of time together, so I’m hoping that we’ll get to chat some more today.”
“You work too hard,” Maggie noted, shaking her head, her forehead creased.
Stifling a sigh, Delaney replied, “Melody has been w
orking a lot, too. It’s just a busy time of year, Mom. Besides, both of you taught me that hard work is important, you know?”
“Yep—nothing like a full day’s work to make you feel proud,” David chimed in, the lights now threatening to consume him.
Chuckling, Delaney asked, “Do you want some help, Dad?”
“I’ve got it,” he asserted rather quickly. “Now, about the truck. Remember, don’t go over sixty, and if any lights come on, you pull over and call me immediately. Got it, kiddo?”
Delaney’s true purpose for stopping by was to borrow her father’s pride and joy—a ’64 Chevy pickup he lovingly referred to as Bertha the Beast, Bertie for short. She sat in the driveway next to where Delany had parked her Charger. Though she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be selecting a tree so big it couldn’t fit on the roof of her car, she worried about the sap, and she thought they may as well take the truck, just in case. “You got it, Dad,” she replied, knowing how much the truck meant to him. She was surprised he’d even said she could take it.
“And when you bring it back, maybe you could stay for supper?” Maggie requested, her eyebrows indicating Delaney had better say yes. “It’s been a while since we had the chance to sit around and talk.”
Some time had passed since she’d really visited with her parents. She saw them often enough, but she didn’t really get the opportunity to chat. Thinking she should mention her concerns about Nana to them, Delaney nodded. “That sounds like a great idea, Mom.”
“Good. I’m making your favorite chili tonight, so come hungry.”
With a giggle, Delaney replied, “Sounds delicious. Thanks, Mom.”
Her mother wrapped her in an embrace one more time before wishing her a good trip and turning to assess the lights again.
“Keys are in it,” her father said as Delaney squeezed him and gave him a peck on the cheek. His hands were so full of Christmas lights, he could do little in return. “Be careful.”