Commiseration filled her eyes.
“We went in after a little boy. A little older than Tyler.” He jutted his chin toward the boys. “We got him out before the roof came down, but all the while I kept thinking what would happen to these little guys if there was a fire? An accident? How do parents keep their kids out of danger?” He turned her way more fully. “How could I keep them safe?”
His words might be centered on Todd and Tyler, but Haley knew they reflected the loss of his son, Josiah. She reached out and settled her arms around him in a warm hug. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees, Brett.”
“I know that.” Silence stretched for long moments, but it was a gentle quiet. Soft and peaceful. “I don’t ask God for guarantees, but a man likes to know he’s got a fighting chance.”
“You miss your son.”
He stiffened.
“And you don’t like to talk about it,” she went on, ignoring his reaction. She stayed right where she was, arms around him, her head tucked against his chest, beneath his arm. “I understand that need for privacy even though I surround myself with people to make me feel normal. I push myself to believe that if I just keep doing my best, things will work out.” She leaned back and caught his gaze. “I run myself ragged trying to make that happen.”
His gaze softened. A crooked smile of acknowledgment made her feel like they’d bridged a small gap. “So I need to talk more and you need to talk less?”
She drew back and poked him. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what I inferred. Hey, guys. You ready to go?”
“In a minute!”
“I just have to—”
Brett hauled Todd out of Tyler’s grasp. “Knock it off. We’ve got to hit the road. Stuff to do today. And we’re picking up my mother so you’ve got to be good, okay?”
“The nice l-l-lady wiff the brown hair?” Todd spun his way, an eager smile lighting his face.
“I like her,” added Tyler. He zipped his coat, made a face at Todd, called him a slowpoke, then moved toward the door.
“Am not!”
“Are, too. I could zip anything at your age,” Tyler boasted as Todd struggled with the metal fastener. “Coats. Backpacks. Boots.”
“I can, too!”
Tyler made a face of disbelief, but kept his silence. His scorn was enough to have Todd reaching out, ready to go another round on the floor. Brett pulled a hat over Todd’s ears, hoisted him up and headed out. “On that note, we’re out of here. We’ll see you tonight. And I know it’s Saturday and the co-op will be crazy-busy, but you need to make sure you’re covered there for Monday.”
“The judge’s hearing.” She nodded as she slipped into her coat. “I’m on it.”
“The whole day,” Brett countered.
“But the hearing is in the morning.”
“Yes. But it’s Monday, and the co-op should be quieter. And remember, people rise to the occasion. If you trust them, they’ll earn that trust. Most of them, anyway.”
She’d told him last night that she was learning to delegate. She leaned in and kissed the boys goodbye, then glanced up.
Bad move. Brett’s expression said he was standing in line, just like his more youthful companions. When she hesitated, he didn’t. He swept a soft, sweet kiss to her mouth, stepped back and swung the door wide. “After you.”
Would this be what life could be like? she wondered as she walked around the corner toward the co-op entrance. A family, a career, a balance she’d only known in TV movies?
Make-believe, her conscience scolded.
It didn’t feel like make-believe. When she was around Brett, windows of opportunity opened, but was she just romanticizing the situation? Possibly. But being in his presence did that to her.
She pulled out her phone to quiet the ring tone, and frowned. A missed call from that same out-of-state number. Once inside the co-op she went into the office and searched the internet for the area code.
Central Arizona.
Haley frowned. She didn’t know anyone in Arizona. Not a soul. And sure, it might be a telemarketer, but it wasn’t a toll-free number, making that unlikely.
“Haley, good. You’re here.” Lisa came into the office wearing a Christmas-print florist’s apron over a bright red turtleneck. “The Fosters need the back door opened to bring in more antiques.”
“I’m on it.” She stood and pocketed the keys. “How’s your mom today? Any better?”
Lisa’s expression said no. “We’re on borrowed time. And we knew that, but when the doctor signed the hospice order yesterday, well...” Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back but not before Haley’s filled in sympathy.
“Oh, Lisa.” She hugged the other woman.
“I know.” Lisa rubbed her sleeve across her face, squared her shoulders and met Haley’s look of empathy. “We’re as prepared as we can be, but my mother stood by me through everything. My diagnosis, the mastectomy, chemo, radiation. Evan would make an excuse why he couldn’t get to the doctor’s office. Or the treatment centers. But Mom did. Even with work and the farm, she was always there, always laughing, always joking. And when Evan walked out, Mom’s strength and faith helped get me through. I can’t imagine life without her, Haley, but I can’t stand to see her suffer either.”
Haley squeezed Lisa’s hand. “You are so blessed to have each other.”
“I know.” Lisa wiped her eyes one last time. “And my goal right now is to help her every step of the way, which means me here, doing this stuff.” She pointed to the greens area by the back door. “So Dad can be home, spending time with her while Adam and Caroline run the Christmas tree side of the farm right now.”
Lisa’s brother was a New York State Trooper. Time on the family farm wasn’t part of his hectic schedule, but right now? He was working nights and helping run the garden center and tree farm part of the business during the day. The holidays were a crankin’ busy time for a family-run nursery to deal with illness and death, and Lisa’s words prodded Haley.
Lisa and her family delegated the work to make everyone’s life easier. While Haley might not have family to help balance her schedule, there was an array of people showing her she wasn’t alone, that she had backup as needed. She opened the loading door, shared good-mornings with the Fosters and then hurried back to the ground level, right before she pulled up short.
Water trailed across the floor, pooling around her feet. Alarmed, she pushed open the downstairs bathroom door.
Flooded. And each time someone used the upstairs bathroom, more water gushed forth.
“Uh-oh.” Mr. Foster took one look and moved to the utility room to shut off the water.
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Foster stared, round-eyed as the water crept across the tiled floor.
“I’ve got the mop.” Practical and pretty, Lisa maneuvered the rolling mop bucket down the hall. “I’ve got this. You call the plumber.”
Haley pulled out her cell phone and hit the number for the guy who installed her brand-new septic system less than two months before, certain it was going to be a very long day. And when her cell phone buzzed her moments later and her mother’s number flashed into the display, she was even more convinced. “Hello.”
“Haley.”
“Hi, Mom. I’m kind of busy right now, I’m at work. Can I call you back in a little while?”
The aggrieved sigh said no. “I only need a moment. I just wanted to remind you about the annual Christmas ball being held at the club on the seventeenth.”
“Because?” For the life of her, Haley couldn’t imagine why her mother felt the need to call her attention to the high-brow charity event.
“A lot of good, solid, respectable families will be represented at the ball. Not only could it further your connections...”
Haley was pre
tty sure that furthering her connections meant an arranged marriage to someone whose fortune and friends would prove advantageous to her mother and stepfather.
“Lots of the young people come home for the holidays.”
Score a direct hit on the financial-trading-matchmaking scheme. “Mom, I appreciate the offer of a ticket, but I can’t come.”
“Why not?”
Haley sighed, knowing the time had come to explain Todd and Tyler’s presence. She was equally certain her mother wouldn’t understand. “I’ve got Anthony’s two boys living with me.”
Silence followed, a thickening quiet, the kind you feel while awaiting imminent disaster. Then, “Why?”
“Why do I have the boys?” Haley headed into her office and prayed the septic guy would arrive quickly and give her an excuse to end the call. “Angi passed away last spring and they were with an elderly aunt outside of Trenton.”
“They couldn’t stay there?”
Breathe, Haley. Breathe.
“Their aunt found Anthony’s will that named me guardian.”
“Refuse it.”
“Mother, I—”
“Haley Monroe Jennings, there is no reason in this world why you should feel the need to take on a half brother’s kids, a half brother who never made anything of himself. Like father, like son.”
“Anthony died in Afganistan, serving our country,” she corrected her mother as she fought rising anger. “He’s a hero.”
“He joined the service because he couldn’t get into a decent college, most likely. I will never understand your desire to surround yourself with people who fail to seize every opportunity they have to better themselves.”
“You mean to make more money.”
“Romanticize things all you want, Haley. Money makes the world go around.”
It wasn’t, but she’d been down this road with her mother before. “In any case, I have Anthony’s boys and I won’t be able to leave them to come to the ball.”
“I’ll hire a sitter for you.”
Haley sighed inside, knowing she’d never approve of the kind of sitter her mother would deem appropriate. “The boys have been through a lot. I’m staying here with them and having a quiet, kid-filled Christmas.” Her words were a mockery. She knew that. She hadn’t done one thing to prepare for a sweet, quiet Christmas with the boys because her days were filled with work.
“Ted will be very disappointed.”
Haley had managed to disappoint her stepfather regularly, so this was nothing new.
“And we’re out of town from mid-December until mid-January, so have a nice holiday.”
Their leaving was no surprise either. She hadn’t had a family Christmas since entering college ten years before. But one way or another, this year she was determined to have a sweet, God-filled, child-centered holy day. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
The soft click said her mother hadn’t stayed on the line long enough to hear the good wishes.
The septic system excavator came into the office just then. “I’ve got the truck out back, we’ll troubleshoot this and get you up and running. I think the rain backwashed your tank and caused it to flood. Yours isn’t the only system suffering this week.”
“But you can fix it?” Haley asked. Begged, actually.
He nodded. “One way or another we’ll get it taken care of. And if it needs a pump, we’ll install that, no labor charge. No one expects this much rain this time of year, and the amount of business you’re doing here means constant use of the plumbing.”
“Which is a good thing,” Haley told him.
“It is, but I should have done an auxiliary pump from the beginning, because you have to be prepared for the unexpected in business.” He waved a hand and headed out back. “I’ll let you know when we’re up and running. Should be within the hour.”
Which brought them to opening time, and that would be a wonderful thing, to have working bathrooms when she unlocked those front doors in forty-five minutes.
* * *
“First, we need this base,” Joanna announced. She lifted a round, red-and-green tree holder from the middle of the sprawling seasonal display midmorning. “It’s got a nice, deep reservoir. Lots of water keeps the tree healthy.”
“Good point,” Brett noted. “And how many strings of lights will we need? Two? Three?”
She looked affronted. “Ten.”
“That’s a thousand lights, Mom.” It was Brett’s turn to make a face. “Haley’s apartment’s pretty small, so the tree can’t be too big.”
“Lights make the tree, Brett. A well-lit tree smiles from within.”
“It does, huh?” He didn’t recall seeing many smiling trees lately, but if she suggested ten strings, who was he to argue?
“I wuv Christmas twees.” Todd pointed to his right. “And I fink I like Christmas twees wiff...”
“With.” Brett stressed the “th” sound for the little guy.
Todd puckered and tried again. “Wi-i-th.”
“Got it. Good boy.”
Todd’s smile made Brett feel ten feet tall. “Wots of colors the best.”
“Colored lights it is.” Brett counted out ten boxes of lights. “Now how about decorations?”
“Well.” Joanna led the way to the stacks of decorations, but her expression said she wasn’t enamored.
“What are you thinking, Mom?”
“Two things.” She smiled at the boys. “We can make some decorations.”
Brett pretended shock and fear. The boys laughed. His mother sent him a look of overdone patience until he said, “I’m listening.”
“Well, we could take a few pictures of the boys and they could make some of their own ornaments as a gift for Haley. I did this for Sunday school preschoolers about ten years ago and they were easy for the kids to do and the parents just loved them.”
Her words reminded him that she’d stayed sober for a decade and a half while he was in the service. She’d probably accomplished a lot in that time frame, so he nodded his encouragement. “I like that idea. What do we need?”
“Canning jar lids, ribbon, glitter, popsicle sticks and glue. And then we’ll stop at the Tractor Supply store in Wellsville for some country-themed ornaments.”
Country-themed ornaments?
Brett couldn’t imagine such a thing.
“And we need a Nativity set.” Joanna twined fingers with each little boy and turned them around. “I saw those over here.”
Brett had served in multiple nations. He’d spent Christmas on every continent except Antarctica and Australia. He’d seen his share of magnificent Nativity scenes and these boxed sets couldn’t compare with the majesty of those, but the light in Todd’s and Tyler’s eyes as they gently lowered the box holding Mary, Joseph and Jesus into the cart?
Priceless.
“Hey.” Tyler tugged Brett’s arm. “We need a star, right?”
He pointed to the top of the decorated tree display. “For the top.”
“That’s a great idea.” Brett let Tyler pick out which star would be the most perfect, and smiled when the five-year-old picked out a blue-and-silver star with three dimensional points that lit from within. As they added the star to the cart, Tyler stopped Brett’s hand.
“Wait. Can we get her instead?”
He pointed to an angel tree topper toward the back of the display. The angel had soft brown hair. Her pale skin set off deep blue eyes and she was wearing an ivory gown with feathered wings.
Todd stared and gulped. “She’s so beautiful.”
“She is.” Tyler peered up at the angel, then grasped Brett’s hand. “I’d rather have her than a star. Really.”
Brett exchanged looks with his mother, then nodded. “Sure. Whatever you want, fellas.” He hunted for a b
oxed angel, but couldn’t find one. A clerk stopped by and offered his help. When the boys explained their wishes, he offered reassurance, grabbed a stepladder, climbed three rungs and removed the angel topper from the tree. “Looks like this is the last one, sir.” He went behind a counter, bent and procured a box. “I can discount it because it’s been on display.”
“Even better,” Brett declared.
The clerk reboxed the angel with care and handed it to Tyler. “Here you go, son.”
“Thank you.”
“Fank you!” Todd climbed the side of the cart and stretched over the edge to see the angel up close. “She’s so pretty.”
“She is.” Joanna laid a hand on Todd’s head. “And you hang on if you’re going to ride there, okay?”
“Okay.” He beamed up at her, two rows of tiny white teeth showcasing his happiness. Joanna’s eyes grew misty, just a little. She turned her gaze up to Brett. “These two are sure easy to love, aren’t they?”
Brett couldn’t disagree. “I’m kind of fond of them,” he teased.
Tyler grinned, smug. “I know you are. We like you, too, Brett.”
The big guy’s heart dared to open a little more. He knew that children could grow attached easily, especially in Todd and Tyler’s circumstances. He didn’t want to break their hearts. Let them down. Disappoint them in any way, shape or form. Haley was right in that regard, that they needed to move carefully, putting the boys first.
They stopped at Tractor Supply and bought the ornaments Joanna recommended. As they were checking out, Brett asked, “Mom, do you put up a tree?” It seemed silly not to know that, but she hadn’t asked him over since he’d been home and he’d spent the better part of two years in relative seclusion. But those days were gone.
She shook her head.
“Would you like to?” Brett asked. “I’d be glad to help.”
Joanna shrugged. “Not much sense in doing it for one person.”
Brett understood her reasoning. He hadn’t decorated or recognized Christmas in any way other than making donations and helping with the fire department’s community projects. And going to church, sitting alone in a back pew, wondering why he’d made the choices he did.
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