Anna looked down at her to-do list and quickly tallied up what it would cost to create what she hoped would be a wonderful Christmas. Not that Anna thought money could buy happiness. She knew better than that. But she did want to do all she could, whether it was food or decorations or gifts, to make this year truly special – and memorable. Of course, she knew her biggest challenge would be that expensive car engine. How could she make some extra money quickly? She considered tutoring, but it really wasn’t the best time of year for that. She knew that some retailers were looking for part-time workers, but she’d have difficulty explaining something like that to Michael. Besides, spending time with him seemed more important right now. And with him working so much overtime lately, their time together had been diminishing steadily as it was.
Perhaps she should’ve told her brother that she would sell that nursery furniture after all. But, no, that just seemed wrong. Besides, she knew that David and Celeste’s finances were tight just now. Plus it had been Michael’s idea to share the baby furniture in the first place. It would be nice to see that pretty set put to good use, as well as kept in the family. She might’ve given the pieces to Meredith for baby Jack, but Meredith had already been set on a very contemporary nursery with sleek designs and bold colors. Meri thought that babies preferred bright primary colors, claiming that it increased their IQs. Well, no offense to her nephew, but Anna wasn’t too sure about her sister’s theory, and besides, she preferred calming pastels for baby nurseries herself. Still, what did it matter now?
Anna looked out the kitchen window to see that it was just getting dusky outside. It was that purplish-gray time of evening, with just a bit of haze in the air. Probably leftover smoke from a smoldering leaf pile. Anna knew it was the perfect time to turn on the Christmas lights. She went out to the porch and unceremoniously stuck the plug into the outlet, catching her breath as her house burst into cheery light.
She went down the steps and into the front yard to step back and admire her handiwork. Very, very nice. Happy and bright and inviting. She smiled as she wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm. There was a definite nip in the air, and she wouldn’t be surprised if it froze tonight. Perhaps if this cold spell kept up they might even have a white Christmas this year. She sighed to think of how beautiful their little bungalow would look all lit up like this, with a fresh white blanket of snow all about. She imagined how sweet that front window would look with a tall Noble Fir standing in front of it, glowing with colored lights and her collection of old-fashioned ornaments – things that had remained in the attic the past two Christmases. Well, that would not be the case this year. Anna knew that she would do whatever it took to make this a truly remarkable Christmas.
5
“You want to get a tree today?” Michael frowned over his coffee at Anna. “It’s still November.”
“Barely.” She set down her mug of green tea. “Monday is December 1.” She reached for the calendar behind her just to be sure.
“Yes . . . but it’s four weeks until Christmas.”
“More like three and a half.” She flipped the page and pointed out the day. “Besides, a lot of people get their trees right after Thanksgiving. Loraine Bechtle, a third grade teacher, told me they usually put theirs up even before Thanksgiving just so the grandkids can enjoy it that much longer.”
“That seems crazy.”
“Not to Loraine.”
“But won’t the tree be all dried out by Christmas? And what about fire hazards? Don’t forget this is an old house, Anna.”
“I know, Michael. You just have to take care of the tree correctly. Loraine was telling us about it last week. Did you know you’re supposed to cut the trunk again before you put it into the stand? And then you simply make sure the water never runs out. She also suggested you mix the water with 7UP.”
“7UP?” He tossed her a skeptical frown.
“Or Sprite . . . it probably doesn’t matter which brand. But Loraine said that the sugar helps to keep the tree fresh.”
He sighed as he set down the newspaper. “Look, Anna, I think it’s great that you’re excited about Christmas this year. And I’m glad that you put up the lights yesterday. I’d been thinking about doing it myself except that things are so hectic at work these days.”
“I know you’re busy.” She smiled. “That’s why I did it.”
“And it’s great seeing your enthusiasm about getting a tree. I have to admit that I’ve missed that. But the fact is, I really need to get some work done today. I plan to work at home, but it’ll take most of the day to rework a design that has to be done by midweek. How about if we get a tree next weekend? We could even go to a tree farm and cut one ourselves.”
She looked at the calendar. “That would be fun . . . except that Saturday night is the school Christmas concert and the dress rehearsal is at two.”
“How about Sunday?” He looked hopeful. “After church?”
She pointed to the date. “The Christmas bazaar is that afternoon – remember it’s a fundraiser for Darfur this year?” She shook her head as she realized that she’d completely blanked out that commitment over the past couple of weeks. “And that means I need to get some more sewing done sometime before then.”
In October, Anna had agreed to do a craft project with her sister and their mutual friend Nicole Fox. Meredith had gotten a great deal on a bunch of willow baskets, which she thought would be perfect for mini picnic baskets. Anna had agreed to sew colorful napkins and small tablecloths, which were mostly done. And Nicole was providing sets of colorful plastic plates and utensils that she’d bought with a deep discount from her mom’s craft store. They’d only put one basket together so far, but it had turned out really cute, and Meri was certain they could pull at least thirty dollars apiece for them.
“See,” Michael said, as if this settled it. “We both have a lot to do during the next two weeks, so why not just wait and get the tree . . .” He paused to study the calendar, then pointed to Saturday the thirteenth. “Then!”
Anna felt her lower lip jutting out, just like one of her second grade boys after being informed that recess would be inside due to rain. “But that’s not even two weeks before Christmas.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Perfect.”
Anna knew that it was somewhat crazy, not to mention obsessive, to get all bent out of shape over when they got their Christmas tree. After all, they hadn’t even gotten a tree for the last two years. But perhaps that was just the point. She wanted to make up for it this year. And less than two weeks was not going to cut it. “What if the trees are all picked over by then?”
“That probably won’t happen.”
“But why take a chance?”
He just shook his head, clearly exasperated.
“I just want this Christmas to be special, Michael,” she said. “We haven’t done much these past few years. I just hoped this could be, well, the best Christmas ever.”
His brows lifted slightly. “The best Christmas ever?”
She shrugged. “Sounds corny, huh?”
“Or maybe just a case of bad timing.”
Anna looked down at the table. She had already imagined the two of them decorating the tree this weekend. She had even considered making popcorn and stringing it with cranberries, the way Great-Gran used to. And Michael could make them a crackling fire in the fireplace, and she’d make mint cocoa and . . . well, Anna just knew that she couldn’t wait two long weeks before getting a tree. She needed it now. And somehow she would get it.
She stood, took her empty mug to the sink, and slowly rinsed it. “You go ahead and work today if you need to, Michael. I’ve got some errands to run anyway.”
“You see,” he said, picking up his newspaper again. “It makes sense to wait on the tree, doesn’t it?”
She forced a smile and nodded. “Yes . . . very sensible.” Of course, she didn’t admit that just because it made sense didn’t mean she agreed. Christmas wasn’t something you celebrated with your h
ead . . . but with your heart. And before the sun went down today, Anna intended to have a tree in the living room. Already she could imagine that sweet piney smell.
–––––
Anna tried not to indulge in self-pity as she drove by herself to a tree farm about twenty miles out of town. She had considered bringing Huntley but wasn’t sure how tree farmers felt about pets. But she was determined to enjoy this – cutting down a tree would be fun. And wouldn’t Michael be surprised. Besides that, it was a perfectly gorgeous day. Yesterday’s overcast skies had completely cleared up, and although it was crisp and cold, the sun was shining brightly. She had brought along an old pair of boots and hoped that the tree farm would provide things like saws and ropes to tie the tree to the top of her old red Toyota. As she drove, she even started singing Christmas carols, really trying to get into the spirit of things. Still, she felt slightly sneaky, and she missed having Michael along with her. But it would be worth it later . . . when they were decorating the tree together, sipping cocoa, and enjoying the fire. She would make sure to have the camera out and ready to go. She wanted Michael to have plenty of photos for later . . . happy memories for when she was gone.
The tree farm was busier than she’d expected. After hearing Michael going on about how it was too soon to get a tree, she’d almost started to doubt herself. But seeing the muddy lot nearly full of cars, trucks, and SUVs, she knew that it was probably a good idea after all. She walked over to an area where people seemed to be waiting. She’d never been to a tree farm before and wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“The next wagon will be here in about ten minutes,” announced an old man wearing overalls, a red plaid hunting jacket, and a Santa hat. “There’s complimentary hot drinks over there by the wreath booth. Come get your ticket for a tree, then go ahead and help yourselves to refreshments, if you like.”
Anna waited in line to buy her tree ticket and was slightly stunned to discover that an eight-foot Noble Fir would be $72.
“And, boy, are the Nobles pretty this year,” the woman assured her. “Plus we’re having a great deal on the wreaths when you purchase a tree that’s more than fifty bucks. You can get a gorgeous evergreen wreath with holly sprigs for just an extra twenty dollars. Normally they go for thirty, so you save yourself ten bucks.”
“Okay,” Anna said slowly. Then she quickly did the math and realized that this little expedition, by the time she calculated in her gas mileage, would probably be close to a hundred dollars total. Still, this Christmas needed to be special. And by getting the tree today, she would have three and a half weeks to enjoy it. What was a hundred dollars compared to that?
She picked out a nice, big wreath and put it in the backseat of her car, then got a cup of cocoa, which wasn’t very hot and tasted slightly watery. But she sipped it and pretended to enjoy it as she waited among parents and squealing children for the wagon to come and pick them up. She tried not to feel sorry for herself as she realized that she was the only person who appeared to be alone. Besides, she reminded herself, it had been her choice to come without Michael today. She smiled as she watched a pair of preschool-aged brothers playing tug-of-war with a length of rope until the younger one finally gave up and let go, causing the older boy to plunge backwards right into a muddy spot. Anna chuckled, but the boy’s mother did not look amused.
By the time they got onto a wagon, which was loaded with hay and pulled by a pair of draft horses, Anna was feeling like maybe this had been a mistake. She sat on a corner of the wagon bed, observing the couples happily interacting with their children, talking about what kind of tree they wanted and who would get to use the saw and where would they go for lunch later . . . and she suddenly felt very sad. She fumbled for the sunglasses in her purse, quickly slipping them on so that no one would see her eyes filling with tears as she realized that this – happy families with children – was something she would never experience. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that at least she had Michael. If only he had wanted to come here with her today!
“This is the Noble Fir section,” the young man who was driving the wagon announced. Anna and another family climbed down off the wagon, and, taking the handsaw that had been loaned to her, Anna made her way to a small sign that said “8 Ft.” She tried not to watch the other family – a dad and mom about the same age as Michael and her, a boy who looked about the same age as her second graders, and a girl who was probably still in preschool. They had on matching red sweaters, and the parents took turns getting photos of them with the trees. But the best they could do was one parent with the kids.
“Want me to take one of all of you?” Anna said.
“Oh, would you?” the mom said.
“Sure.” Anna went over and waited as the dad explained how the digital camera worked, although it wasn’t much different from the one she and Michael had at home.
The mom arranged the kids in front of a tall tree. “If it’s a good shot, we might use it on our Christmas card.”
“Okay,” Anna said. “I’ll count to three and everyone smile big.” So she did. And they did. And she thought it looked pretty good. “Just to be safe, I can take another,” she called out.
“That would be wonderful,” the mom said as she adjusted the little girl’s stocking cap. “We really appreciate it.”
Anna’s eyes got blurry as she snapped the second picture. Still, it was probably just fine. “Here you go,” she said, quickly handing the camera back to the dad as she replaced her sunglasses.
“Thank you so much!” the mother said.
“No problem.” Anna turned, blinking back tears. “Happy tree hunting!”
Anna walked into the thicket of trees, going down one row and then the next, but without really looking at the trees. She mostly just wanted to get away from that happy family, wanted to block their smiling faces out of her mind. Finally, realizing that she might get lost in this maze of trees, she paused and took in a deep breath, then looked up at the clear blue sky. She stood there for a long moment, just staring up past the branches and toward the heavens. “Why me?” she whispered to God. “Why?”
She stood there for several minutes, as if waiting for an answer, but other than the sound of some crows cawing back and forth not far off, all was quiet. Then she took in another long, deep breath and, getting her bearings, made her way back to the edge of the Noble Fir section, where she examined some of the eight-footers more closely until she finally decided on one that seemed to look just about perfect.
Of course, sawing it down turned out to be a challenge of its own. She hadn’t counted on the thickness of the trunk or her lack of skill when it came to using a handsaw. She tried to recall if she’d ever cut down a tree before, then remembered back when she’d been a girl and had gone out with her parents and siblings to cut a tree from the woods a few times. And, since she was the oldest, her dad had finally let her use the saw. But that tree’s trunk had been much narrower, and she’d had Dad there to help her. It had seemed easy. Still, she continued sawing, pushing the blade back and forth and trying to keep it from sticking. When she was only halfway through, she decided to try cutting it from the other side. Perhaps that would be easier. So she sawed and sawed some more, and then, just as she paused to catch her breath, down came the tree, flattening her smack down in the damp dirt.
She fought to push the tree away from her, and although she wished she could make light of her lack of lumberjack skills, she felt close to tears. She stood and brushed the dirt and debris from the back of her jeans, then picked pine needles from her wool jacket and even a few from her hair. She gathered up her purse and the handsaw and reached down to pick up the trunk of the Noble Fir. But it was much heavier than she’d expected. She gave it a hard tug, but it barely even moved. How was she supposed to get the tree back to the road where the wagon would be returning? And how in the world would she get the heavy tree on top of her car? Oh, why hadn’t she saved this holiday errand to do with Michael? Why had she been so stubborn? N
ot only was it excruciatingly lonely getting a tree on your own, but it was downright difficult too.
She gave it a couple more tugs, then finally gave up and went to stand by the road. At least she could flag down the wagon, and maybe someone would take pity on her and offer to help.
“Where’s your tree?” the mom from the photo session asked. She and her husband and kids were lugging an even taller tree to the side of the road.
“It was too heavy,” Anna said.
“We can help,” the woman said.
“Sure,” the guy said. “Come on, kids, let’s help the lady with her tree.”
They all went back to where Anna’s tree was lying like a fallen soldier, and together they carried it back to the side of the road. Along the way, they exchanged names, and Anna, feeling somewhat self-conscious for being alone on what it seemed should be a family outing, explained that her husband was busy today but this had seemed the best weekend to get a tree.
“Oh, I definitely agree,” the woman said. “We always get ours on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.” She smiled at her husband. “It’s a tradition.”
“And we make a gingerbread house too,” the boy said, using his hands to show how big it was. “It’s more like a castle, really,” he explained.
“With a gingerbread princess,” the little girl said, her brown eyes wide with excited anticipation.
“Wow,” Anna said, “that must be fun.”
“Do you want to help us make it?” the girl offered.
The Joy of Christmas Page 18
