Christmas at the Tree Farm

by Maddy Reeves

  “Levi will have a blast. Sledding is so much fun when you’re a kid.” I’m slowly stirring the chocolate as it melts, thinking about all the times I’d sled on a hill not far from my house growing up. When it wasn’t covered in snow, my dad and I would race each other to the top. I can still hear the way he’d laugh after yelling go, leaving me to scramble after him.

  “I know I mentioned this when I first arrived, but your house is beautiful. In fact, I have another idea I want to run past you. Not anything you need to think about this year, but for the future.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “A bed and breakfast.”

  “Oh,” she says. She stops what she’s doing to take a moment to think about what I said. It certainly isn’t for everyone, but Ed and Frankie are so welcoming and they have so much space out here. “I never thought about that before.”

  “I’m just planting the seed for now. There are so many ways you could make it work, though. It would be a way to bring in money outside of the Christmas season. Willowdale is a small-town, but it has appeal that would draw guests. People who live in the big city day in and day out enjoy a quiet get-away. It’s soothing to the soul.”

  “Consider the seed planted. It’s too much to think about right now, but you’re right. Who knows what could happen?”

  In my head I can picture couples taking weekend trips as the holidays approach. Staying on the farm, and going on a hay-ride, or shopping at the specialty boutiques downtown. The impressive decorations are enough to put anyone in the Christmas spirit.

  “Has it always been your dream to work in marketing?” Frankie asks.

  The chocolate is finally melted. I prep the first sheet pan with wax paper to spread out the chocolate for the Peppermint Bark. “I always enjoyed business, but I don’t know that marketing was ever my dream. Eventually, I can see owning my own business. Working for myself.”

  “What kind of business?”

  I hesitate before I share my ideas. I’ve never actually told anyone for fear they’ll suggest they’re too outlandish and unrealistic. I like holding onto the thought of the dream, even if it never becomes anything.

  “Don’t laugh, but I always enjoyed this.” I motion around the kitchen to the mess of wrappers, chocolate covered spoons, and baking supplies spread over the counter. “My secret dream is to one day own my own chocolate shop.”

  “Why is that a secret dream?”

  “I know it isn’t realistic. Working in marketing is dependable, and I need to be responsible when it comes to my finances. What if I opened a shop and didn’t make any money? If I completely fail, I don’t have anyone to help me now that my parents are gone.”

  “Both of your parents are gone? I’m so sorry. Kendra mentioned you recently lost your dad, but I didn’t know your mom was gone, too.”

  “Yes. My mom died when I was ten. And now my dad just a few months ago. I’ve never been a lucky person, but after losing my mom at such a young age, I figured my dad was off-limits. I assumed he’d live until he was ninety-eight, and pass away peacefully in his sleep. I didn’t think the universe could be so cruel.”

  “It means you’re due for something good to come your way.”

  I glance up from spreading the chocolate to give her a watery smile, and that’s when I notice Clay standing just outside the kitchen. His wind-blown red cheeks and ruffled hair are the only indication that he’s been at the sledding hill.

  “Clay,” Frankie says, “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “Yeah…” He stands awkwardly in the doorway, hesitating. “Sorry to interrupt. Levi wants some hot chocolate. But, if I’ll be in the way, I’ll wait until you two are finished.”

  “It’s not a bother at all.”

  Clay quietly walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a mug. He’s calmer today, again, but because of his change in attitude, I don’t know how to act around him. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to make small talk with someone, but with Clay, I’m always worried I’ll say something wrong, and he’ll snap at me.

  “Did Levi have fun sledding?” Frankie asks.

  “He had a blast,” Clay says. “I forgot how much fun sledding can be.”

  “You did love it when you were little,” Frankie says. “Where is Levi? With your dad?”

  “He’s in the living room watching Paw Patrol, waiting on his hot chocolate.”

  “Is that with marshmallows, or without?” I ask, surprising myself.

  Clay’s eyes immediately meet mine, so I drop my head back down to focus on what I’m doing.

  “Marshmallows. He’d enjoy equal parts if I let him,” Clay says.

  “Equal parts?”

  “Half of the cup hot chocolate, the other half marshmallows.”

  “I’m with Levi.” I shake my head with approval. “The more marshmallows the better.” As an afterthought, I grab a candy cane and hold it out to Clay. “Maybe he’d like a candy cane with his marshmallows?”

  “Yuck.” Clay picks up the mug and begins carrying it out of the kitchen, but before he’s completely gone, he turns around and smiles at me.

  Oh my God, Clay Harrison is capable of smiling.

  My first glimpse of his dimple makes my insides quiver. I had zero attraction to angry-suit Clay, but this side of him is much more appealing.

  Thankfully, I won’t be here much longer because any more exposure to his dimple and he’ll have claim over my heart.

  Chapter 8

  By dinner time, we have a decent amount of packaged candy ready to go. I’ve been busy making Peppermint bark, toffee bark, holiday truffles, and caramels. Frankie put all of the labels on the packages, added the candies and tied them. Our impromptu candy operation is in full-swing.

  “Let me just finish washing this last pot, and then I’ll be out of your hair so you guys can eat dinner.” Levi popped into the kitchen a little bit ago to tell us his tummy was growling and he needed a snack. My cue to get all of this stuff packed up for the day.

  “You have to stay for dinner tonight.” Frankie takes the pot from my hands and starts drying it with a towel. “We’ll order pizza or something since it’s already getting late.”

  “I shouldn’t—” Before I can finish coming up with an excuse, Frankie interrupts.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re happy to have you, and it beats going back to your empty motel room.”

  She winks at me, and part of me knows she feels bad for me because I shared some of my personal life with her today. I mean, it’s hard not to share. Family inevitably comes up in conversation, and I’ve been dealt a crappy hand. Still, I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. My parents were both amazing people, and I never questioned how much they loved me.

  “You can’t say no.” Frankie tosses the dishtowel on the counter, pointing at me with an authoritative gesture. Then, she grabs her phone. “I’ll order pizza.”

  I’m thankful that dinner isn’t anything fancy. In fact, we sit around the island and eat right out of the box.

  “What’s left on the list of things to do before opening weekend?” Ed asks.

  Simultaneously, everyone looks to me to answer his question.

  “Well…I want to add signs on the main roads, and make sure we mark the drive-way so no one will miss us. I thought I’d ask if you’d like me to hire Santa Claus for the weekends in December? Give kids a chance to sit on his lap, and parents can take pictures.”

  “Santa will come?” Levi asks.

  “Not the real Santa. The real Santa is so busy getting everything ready at the North Pole that he has to have helper Santa’s. But all of the helper Santa’s relay your gift requests to the big man himself.”

  Levi seems pleased as he takes another bite of his pizza.

  “Levi, did you have fun sledding today?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Yeah. The hill was so big, and I was scared to go down at first, but Daddy let me sit on his lap, and then we went down together.”

&nbs
p; “That sounds like so much fun.”

  “Do you want to come with us?” Levi asks. “Dad—Naomi wants to go sledding.” Levi slides off his stool, ready to go back out to the hill.

  “Not right now, buddy. Maybe tomorrow, though, if Naomi has time.” He lifts Levi back up onto the stool. “Finish your pizza.”

  He takes another bite of his pizza, quickly swayed from his plans. Clay ruffles his hair with a smile.

  “You two sure accomplished a lot.” Ed picks up one of the packages of dark chocolate sea salt caramels. “This is an impressive talent, Naomi.”

  I shrug, embarrassed by the attention but still thank him. As if Frankie can sense it, she changes the subject.

  “Naomi suggested something today that got me thinking, Ed,” she says. “A bed and breakfast—here.”

  “For the Christmas season?” he asks.

  “That’s one option. If we tried it in the off season, it would bring in money during our slow months.”

  “I don’t think you have any idea what you’d be getting into with a bed and breakfast,” Clay says. Quickly turning to me, he continues. “That isn’t what they’re looking for—why would you even suggest it?”

  I want to say something to defend myself, but when I’m put on the spot like this, I can’t think straight. Frankie and Ed are quick to come to my defense, but all I can focus on is how to get out of here without making too much of a scene before he gets too angry.

  “It was just an idea,” I finally say. “I didn’t tell them they had to do it.”

  “The last thing they need are to have strangers wandering around the house.” He brushes his fingers through his hair, a clear indication that he’s agitated.

  “There’s nothing to get so upset about,” I say. “I was spit balling.”

  “Spit balling?” The condescending look on his face makes me want to slap him. Maybe this is the way he talks to people at his fancy job in New York, but I’ve had enough of his patronizing attitude. “Please. Just admit you’re trying to exploit my parents for your financial gain.”

  “What?” I wouldn’t be surprised if steam started coming out of my ears. Numerous foul words pop into my head, but then I look at Levi. His eyes are so huge they look like they’re going to pop out of his head as he looks around at all of us. Instead of getting into an argument in front of his son, I decide to make a get-away. “I should go.”

  Without waiting for anyone to respond, I grab my purse and march through the front door. I’m outside when I realize I don’t have a ride. Frankie drove me around today, and unless I want to go back inside, I’ll need to call a cab. What I wouldn’t give for a car rental service somewhere close by.

  Before I have a chance to call, the gravel crunches behind me, and I’m afraid to turn around in case Clay has followed me outside.

  “Naomi.”

  Ed’s walking toward me with keys in his hand.

  “I want you to borrow my truck for the rest of your time in Willowdale. It doesn’t make any sense for you to take a cab back and forth every day.”

  “Isn’t Clay using your truck?” I take the keys but I don’t want to do anything else that’ll give him reason to hate me.

  “We have other vehicles he can borrow while he’s here.” He looks uncomfortable now that he has the job of smoothing things over with me. He motions for me to follow after him. Seeing as I don’t have many other options, I do what he says. “You can’t let Clay get to you. He’s going through his own stuff, and he’s taking his frustrations out on you. But, he’s not a bad person, I promise you that.”

  “It’s okay, Ed. Thank you for letting me borrow your truck. I’ll be back tomorrow to put the finishing touches on everything.”

  Ed waves as I drive away. His truck is old, but it starts, and the heat works. I’m exhausted from a full day of candy-making, so I’m not far from the Harrison’s farm when my composure breaks. My dad always commented on how sensitive I was. Not that it’s a bad thing, but sometimes it makes things harder.

  Clay makes me feel inadequate. He treats me like I’m crappy at my job and have an ulterior motive instead of genuinely wanting the Tree Farm to succeed. Not to mention, I know he heard me tell Frankie that both of my parents are dead. And still, this is the way he chooses to treat me.

  I’m driving along the country highway on my way back to the motel, doing my best to stop thinking about what he said to me. But I can’t just let it go. His insult is too fresh, and it’s becoming a troubling pattern. I’m not going to be his punching bag anymore…I don’t care if he’s Frankie and Ed’s son.

  Chapter 9

  When I pull up to the farm the next morning in Ed’s beat-up truck, the farm is already bustling with activity. Opening day is tomorrow so today is all hands on deck to get everything ready on time.

  “I took the scenic route through town today,” I tell Ed as he opens the door of his truck for me. Then it’s around to the back to help me unload a few more boxes. “Now we have signs throughout town showing people the way.”

  “Don’t be too disappointed if we aren’t as busy as you hope. The busiest days hit after Thanksgiving.”

  “The weather is on our side. With all this snow, people are more likely to be in the Christmas spirit.”

  Ed and I carry the boxes to the Christmas cottage, as I’ve dubbed it. It’s unrecognizable now when we step inside. The shelves are full of Christmas products as well as the beautiful wooden rectangular table in the middle of the room. We have a second counter at the back where we’ve stocked the refreshments—apple cider, hot chocolate, peppermint tea, popcorn, caramel corn, and a big batch of Santa Munch popcorn. I’ve made all of the treats, and had a little too much fun doing so.

  “I’ve got the rest of the staff here today,” Ed says. “Almost all of them worked here last year, so it won’t take much to get them up to speed.”

  As soon as we get back to the truck, I pull out my portfolio so Ed and I can go over where the staff will be stationed. Running a tree farm is a huge operation, and I want things to run smoothly. Ed and Frankie know what they’re doing, but now that I’ve added so many additional things, we need to make sure we can adapt.

  “Clay is on stand-by to help you out with anything you need today.” Ed and I carry the last load of boxes into the already-full cottage. “And he won’t give you any trouble.”

  I almost laugh at that last bit, but it’s clear from Ed’s tone that he’s had a conversation with his son. I can only imagine how that must have gone.

  I want to tell him that it isn’t necessary, but it isn’t Ed’s fault that his son is such a tool.

  “Thanks, Ed. I can handle the last of the work in here. Go ahead and meet with your staff—I’m good to go.”

  As soon as I’m alone in the cottage, I begin unpacking the last of the boxes. Whatever doesn’t fit on the shelves now will go behind the counter for when we need to restock.

  I’m on my way back to my truck for the last box that I forgot on the front seat when I spot Clay walking toward me from further down the path. Without thinking, I turn and hurry back into the cottage, closing the door behind me. Sure, it’s childish, but I’m not in the mood to deal with Clay and all of his issues today.

  My heart hammers in my chest while I wait like a coward behind the door. I keep myself busy unpacking the boxes, while keeping an eye on the window, waiting for him to walk past. I don’t doubt that he saw me turn tail and run, but I’m not going to let myself be embarrassed about it. He should know the effect his behavior has on other people. It makes us all want to run away from him and hide.

  I give it time, and after he’s had ample time to get to wherever he was headed, I resume my original task. I’m not prepared to see Clay leaning against the front of his father’s truck. I pause, mid step, but then trudge forward. At this point it would be way too obvious if I turned around again.

  “Hey there,” he says when I reach the truck. “Looks like I’m all yours today.”

  I s
top in front of him and cross my arms over my chest so I don’t fidget. His mood swings are seriously a cause for concern at this point. He snaps at me, and then acts like nothing happened. I, on the other hand, stew about it all night.

  “I’ve got everything under control.” I walk around to the passenger door, and grab the box sitting on the seat. Inside are beautiful, glass ornaments from a trinket shop downtown. So many shop owners were beyond excited to sell their products at the tree farm. All except for Gloria.

  “Let me help you with that.” He stands in front of me, reaching out to take the box from my hands.

  “It isn’t heavy. Just ornaments.”

  He drops his arms, but doesn’t move out of my way.

  “Look—I’m sorry I keep snapping at you.”

  “You’ve been a jerk…continuously.” His eyes widen for a second, as if he’s amused that I’ve called him out so bluntly.

  “You’re right.” His hands are up in front of him, indicating surrender. “There are other things in my life that I’m frustrated with, and I’ve been taking it out on you.”

  “I don’t deserve it,” I continue.

  “You’re right. You don’t deserve it.”

  “Your mood swings give me whiplash. It’s one thing after another with you.”

  “I’m working on it. It’s why I came home for Thanksgiving. I thought being back on the farm where I grew up would help me remember what things used to be like. Having you here, with all of your ideas about how to change the place…I reacted without thinking.”

  I’m still holding the box of ornaments, staring into Clay’s eyes that shine a little brighter today from the sunshine reflecting off of the snow. From what I can tell, he’s being genuine, but based on my short experience with him, this sweet side of him won’t last.

  “Look, my parents told me to help you today. I’m to do whatever you need. Even I know better than to disobey them the day before we open. So, what do you need?”