Love Finds You in Frost, Minnesota

by Judy Baer

  “Tell me what?” Jack’s gaze caught Merry’s.

  “What are you doing out of bed?”

  “I’m not a child, Merry! I’m a grown man and if I feel like being here . . .” Jack swayed a little. “Right now I feel like sitting down.”

  “Take him in the kitchen, Vince,” Merry suggested. “I’ve got pork chops in the oven. Maybe he’ll be less dizzy with some food in his stomach.”

  “I hate it when you’re right,” Jack muttered to her.

  She grinned and patted his arm. “Just wait till you hear what I was right about now.”

  She wouldn’t tell the pair anything until she’d set the table, dished up the food, and said grace.

  “Now will you tell me?” Jack demanded. “I’ve been ill. It’s not healthy to keep me in suspense.”

  “Now you admit you’ve been sick? It’s certainly taken you a long time!”

  Vince grinned but said nothing. It was obvious he enjoyed the repartee.

  “Those watercolors you did today?”

  “What about them? You can just toss the bunch. I was trying to paint what I saw in my head, but they didn’t come out quite like I wanted them to.” Jack dug into a bowl of squash and grabbed the bit with a hunk of butter melting on top.

  “After I framed them, Abby sold some of them. We made nine hundred dollars.”

  Jack’s fork clattered to the table and Vince’s jaw dropped in amazement.

  “Nine hundred? For what?” Jack finally managed.

  “For some lovely pictures of winter scenes.” Merry watched him with amusement. Dumbfounded was the best way to describe him at the moment.

  “But I just looked out the window and painted what I saw.”

  “You have amazing natural ability, Jack. Don’t you know that?”

  “How would I know? The last time I remember painting or drawing was in grade school. Before . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. “My brother, Jamie, was the one with the artistic talent. My parents were always raving about the things he drew. Far be it from me to rain on his parade, I guess. I was always better with numbers, so we each had our own skills.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re good at numbers.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of money. “I’ll tell you the cost of the frames I added, take ten percent commission, and the rest is yours.”

  Vince chuckled. “It sounds like you are well acquainted with math yourself. If I were you, I’d ask for at least twenty percent commission. After all, without you, this talent would have remained hidden forever.”

  Jack was still staring at the pile of bills. “This is crazy. You take the money, Merry.”

  “I certainly will not! I don’t do business that way. Besides, now you’ll have to paint more pictures for me. Do the smaller ones this time. I’m sure I can sell them all.”

  “What have I gotten myself into now?” Jack asked Vince.

  “You’ve gotten yourself into very good hands, my friend, and also a new career. Tonight you can brief me on what you’ve been doing so far, and I’ll take over from here. You don’t look very well, for one thing, and for another, the demand for your paintings is obviously high and you need to strike when the iron is hot.” He turned to Merry. “Don’t you think so?”

  “Absolutely.” Merry was relieved that Vince would take some of the burden off Jack, who was not nearly as strong as he insisted he was.

  “But you can’t work tonight until after the Parade of Lights. I think we’re going to have our best participation ever.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Which reminds me, I’d better get going. I’m supposed to help the entries line up. You can watch from the front window. Just turn the rest of the lights off in the house so you can really see the parade well.”

  “I don’t want to . . .” Jack began.

  Vince lightly punched his shoulder. “But I do. You’re going to watch this if I have to tie you up to get you to do it. I’m in Frost and I’m determined to enjoy it.”

  “Traitor,” Jack muttered. “I thought you came here to help me.”

  “I did,” Vince assured him. “Believe me, I did.”

  * * * * *

  A hodgepodge of people and their parade entries greeted her at the edge of town.

  Merry pulled a sheet of paper out of her pocket and walked up to a John Deere tractor outlined in small white lights. The driver was dressed in a Santa costume, but Merry still recognized him. “Hi, Doug, you are entry number three. Line up over there and leave room for two other tractors ahead of you.”

  Next sat a plow with a snow scoop full of elves. “Number four. Behind Doug,” Merry called out.

  A group of tiny carolers waited in a clump. “You kids will be last—except for the horses, of course—we don’t want you stepping in anything . . .” Her voice trailed off. “So get ahead of the miniature horse and Jeff and his Percherons. He’ll go slow or stop if you get behind.”

  And so it went until Merry had given everyone their position in line.

  “Okay, folks, it’s time to start. We’ll go up and down every street in town. People are lined up on the street and in their cars. First entry can go. Everyone follow at a suitable pace. You know the rules. There will be cider and treats at the community center after and music by Frost’s very own musical group, The Frosties.”

  Her job was done. Nearly everyone in the parade had done this before and it was old hat to them. She walked along the entries smiling at the pickup truck decorated to look like a gingerbread house and the “Santa car” that resembled a sleigh.

  “Hey, Merry. Looking for a ride?”

  Jeff had his favorite sleigh out tonight, the one he used on special occasions. It was just right for two people. Merry imagined the original owners of this vehicle wrapped in warm furs and blankets, heating their feet with bricks wrapped in rags at the bottom of the sleigh.

  “I said, are you looking for a ride?” Jeff called. “You can come with me. There are blankets to wrap up in.”

  Willingly she crawled aboard. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  * * * * *

  “Are you sure about this?” Vince asked Jack as they made themselves comfortable on the front porch of Merry’s house. “I think you should be inside.”

  “Fresh air is good for a person. Isn’t that what everyone says? We’re dressed properly for the weather. Besides, how are we going to see this parade Merry is so excited about if we have to stare through glass? We can’t get the ambience of the event inside the house.”

  “Since when have you cared about ambience or mood or whatever? Don’t blame me if you get sick again.”

  Vince was silent for a moment then added, “She’s beautiful, you know. And kind. A really lovely woman.”

  “Yes, I’ve realized that.”

  “You aren’t getting any younger, and it’s time you had someone in your life besides me and the very few others you allow in. I’ve seen you smile more today than I have in the last six months.”

  “Is that so?” Jack hadn’t realized that, but he knew he was happier here than he’d been in a long time—despite the legal hassles and his hospital stay. “To what do you attribute that?”

  “Merry, of course. If you let her slip through your fingers, you’re a fool.”

  “You talk like I even have her in my fingers. She’s an independent woman who thinks for herself. And who says, other than you, I want someone in my life?”

  “Don’t kid me, Jack. You’ve punished yourself enough. Quit denying yourself the things you really want. It’s not going to bring Jamie back.”

  Jack didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. He didn’t disagree with Vince, but he’d lived this way a long time. He’d grown accustomed to refusing himself. Some people resisted change, even in bad situations, because they were afraid of what the future might bring. That was him. Jamie’s death had been the center of his existence. Without that, where would he be?

  The first of the f
loats drove by the house. On a flatbed pulled by a tractor were several children sitting around a Christmas tree, gazing up into its branches. Christmas music played from inside the cab of the John Deere.

  Two more tractors passed and then a fire truck polished to a glossy sheen. The fireman driving it and the Dalmatian hanging its head out the window both wore Santa hats.

  And so it went—machinery, cars, trucks, the occasional flatbed, all playing carols and decorated for the season. Finally the children’s chorus came by. Jack looked hard at the children and spotted little Greta walking along, looking proud and singing at the top of her lungs.

  Jack stood up when he spied the miniature horses. “Time to go in. I’m getting cold.”

  “Don’t you want to see Merry go by?” Vince asked as he pointed to Jeff’s sleigh with the two of them perched high on the seat and sitting very close together.

  Jack stopped and turned toward the street. There was Merry, in a red-and-white Cat in the Hat top hat, beside Jeff. She was rubbing her hands against the chill and talking animatedly. Then she saw the pair on her front porch and waved. Her smile lit the night as brightly as any of the parade lights.

  Jack spun around and stomped inside.

  As he followed, Vince said nothing, but Jack could feel his speculating gaze burning though his shirt.

  “You don’t like it much, do you? Seeing Merry with other men, I mean.”

  “It’s a free country. She can be with anyone she chooses.” Jack knew his tone was short but he couldn’t help it.

  “And you’re comfortable with that?” Vince probed. “Wouldn’t you rather just have her with you?”

  Jack was suddenly furious. It wasn’t because Vince was prying into his affairs but that what he’d said was true. He would like to have Merry all to himself—and she’d never let on that the feeling might be mutual.

  He was relieved when the door opened and Greta ran inside.

  “Miss Merry invited my family over for hot chocolate before we go to hear the music at the community center,” she crowed. “Did you hear me sing?”

  “Like a songbird.” Jack didn’t feel like smiling but he did so for the child.

  “It was fun.” Greta shed her jacket, boots, hat, and mittens before running to the chair in which Jack was seated and crawling into his lap. “Feel my cheeks. They are so cold!”

  At that moment Greta’s parents entered with Merry right behind them. To Jack’s relief, no Jeff followed.

  Merry also went directly to Jack. “You were outside. You should have stayed in.”

  “Fresh air and all that.” He tried to be flippant, but the genuine concern in her eyes touched him.

  “Just don’t get sick again, that’s all I ask.” She turned toward the others. “Who’s ready for cocoa?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  • • • • • • • • • • • •

  When Merry left for the kitchen, Greta and Vince followed her, leaving Stephanie and Wayne alone with Jack.

  “Merry has been awesome,” Stephanie commented. “She’s been so generous including us in these Christmas events we otherwise wouldn’t have had. And the pastor has offered help as well.”

  “No family? Either of you?” Jack could identify with that.

  “I’ve been estranged from my family for years,” Wayne admitted. “I didn’t have the healthiest upbringing.” Pain flickered in his eyes. “I don’t want Greta to have a repeat of my childhood. That’s why I’ve been so worried since I lost my job . . .”

  “She has two sane and sober parents who love her!” Stephanie interrupted. “Don’t forget that.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s more than I’d hoped for.”

  Jack looked at her curiously.

  “My first husband, Greta’s father, passed away,” Stephanie said. “When he did, I totally fell apart. I went into a deep, destructive depression. I didn’t function at all for months and tried to hide from everyone and everything. I’m not sure what would have happened to me had it not been for Wayne.” She reached out and touched his arm. “He was God-sent, I’m sure of it.

  “I’d gone from being a loved, pampered wife to a heartsick, desperate woman in the blink of an eye. Meeting Wayne was the first flicker of hope I’d had in a long while.”

  “I wanted nothing more than to provide a good home for both my girls, and I had a pretty good job until the economy tanked.” Wayne looked pensive. “But we’ll make it. Somehow . . . we’ll make it.”

  They all turned when they heard someone clear their throat.

  “Sorry.” Vince stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Merry told me to come and get you. Food’s ready.”

  “Sorry.” Wayne jumped up and held out his hand to his wife. “We don’t want to keep our hostess waiting. We still have to go to the community center to hear the music.”

  Vince lingered while Jack rose slowly from his chair.

  “Tired?”

  “I hate to admit it, but yes.” Jack put his hand behind his neck and massaged it wearily. “I’m worthless these days. Merry keeps ordering me to rest, but there’s so much to do.”

  “Leave it all to me. Pretend you’re on a cruise ship heading somewhere without Wi-Fi or cell service. You’re out of touch unless I say so, okay?”

  “What if you do something I don’t agree with?”

  “Then you can fire me.” Vince wasn’t joking.

  “I’d rather not, so don’t do anything that will destroy families or ruin the family name.”

  “I just hope,” Vince muttered, “that those two goals aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  * * * * *

  When Greta and family put on their coats, Merry was reluctant to see them leave. She’d grown deeply fond of this little family in the time she’d known them.

  “Have you got plans for Christmas Eve?” Merry inquired.

  “Not yet. I imagine we’ll go to church somewhere,” Stephanie said.

  “Then you’ll come here. Jack and Vince will be here, and my neighbor is coming over. I’d love to have a full table. Please?”

  “Wouldn’t that be a lot of extra work?”

  “For a woman who loves the holidays? Hardly. The more the merrier.”

  Stephanie glanced up at Wayne. “Greta would love it.”

  Wayne grinned. “So would we.”

  “It’s settled then. We’ll eat at six. Come early for appetizers and games.”

  “Games?” Jack said weakly from across the room.

  “Yes, games,” Merry said firmly. “You’ll have fun.”

  “Whether you like it or not,” Vince added with a chuckle, obviously enjoying seeing his boss unable to compete with a force of nature like Merry.

  “Our church lutefisk supper is coming up in a couple days,” Merry said to the young couple. “It’s the same night as our living Nativity. Please come to that too, if you can.”

  “What’s lutefisk?” Wayne asked. “Sounds like a musical instrument.”

  “Codfish soaked in lye. That is how the Scandinavians preserved it. It’s served with boiled potatoes, peas, and melted butter.” Merry laughed out loud at the expression on Wayne’s face. “It’s better than it sounds. See you there?”

  “If I come—and I won’t promise—I’ll bring antacids.”

  After they left, Merry turned to Jack and Vince. “Vince, you don’t look so good.”

  “Codfish and lye? Do people really eat that?”

  “The lye is rinsed away before you eat it.” She smiled beneficently. “Granted, it may be an acquired taste, but I’ve learned to enjoy it.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” Jack said, “but I don’t think I’ve ever eaten it.”

  “I don’t want to learn anything new,” Vince muttered, “especially that.”

  Jack burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Vince growled.

  “You’re learning plenty, my friend, whether you like it or not. Merry has that effec
t on people.”

  After Merry excused herself to go to bed, Vince and Jack remained downstairs amid the twinkling lights and holiday ornaments.

  They both stared into the fire, lost in their own thoughts.

  Vince was the first to speak. “That little family’s situation is pretty heart wrenching.”

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve been living in an ivory tower. You hear about people who have lost everything but never really take it in—until you meet them. Is there anything we can do for them? Find them a house, a job, something.” He’d always been generous with his money but usually left it to Vince to decide where the company’s charitable contributions went.

  “I’ll do it, but I have other things to do first.” Vince stretched lazily. “I have been looking at stuff at the courthouse. Your suspicions are correct. I’ve found serious errors in the recording of your property, including homes in town that are yours as well.”

  “Houses people are still living in?”

  “I don’t know yet, but if there’s an empty one, there’s no reason not to allow Stephanie and Wayne to live in it.”

  “Do your best.” Jack yawned. “I just want this over.”

  “Then I have your permission to move ahead with everything?”

  Jack rubbed a finger on the point between his eyes. “I’m too tired to hear any more tonight. I trust you.”

  “Good. I’ll get things moving tomorrow.”

  * * * * *

  “You’re looking better today,” Merry commented the next morning as she poured Jack a second cup of coffee. Vince, in a very professional looking shirt and tie, had eaten two hours earlier and headed out.

  “I finally had a good night’s sleep.” Jack scraped his fingers through his hair, which left it tousled. “I told Vince to handle the business with the land around Frost. I don’t want to worry about it anymore. I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train and I might as well admit it. Is there anything you’d like me to do around here? I’m pretty handy with a hammer and nail and I’ve been known to change a lightbulb.”