Mr. Buckley stomped his way in the door, snow flying off his boots.
“Just enough snow to make it messy out there,” he said with a silly grin.
“I’ve got to run and get Caroline,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
Angela picked up Caroline from school and half listened to her day while mulling over what had happened at the office. Would her discovery have any impact on what she had agreed to earlier that morning? It was another impossible situation. She hadn’t asked for this assistant manager job or for any special favors from Mr. Buckley. And the last thing she wanted was to be a part of his dishonesty.
Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. There could be an explanation for what he’s doing. If the school calls with my schedule, I’ll quit the office job and figure out how to pay the higher rent.
“Who’s at our apartment, Mom?” Caroline asked as they got out of the truck and rounded the corner to their place.
In her preoccupation with Mr. Buckley, Angela had forgotten all about the tree.
“Is that Mr. Shafer with another tree?” Caroline asked, running toward him.
“Wait!” She quickened her step.
Angela took a deep breath and walked up to the door. There he was, waiting with that warm smile, like he had in the hospital hallway. Mrs. Shaw was always right, wasn’t she?
“I didn’t know Mr. Buckley had called you,” she said. “We could have moved our other tree. This was nice of you, though. Aren’t you busy just weeks before Christmas?”
“I’m glad to do it. I hope you like this one,” he said, smiling at Caroline.
Angela opened the door and watched Mark carry the tree inside.
He makes it look so easy.
He leaned the tree against the corner of the wall in the living room.
“Thank you, thank you!” Caroline said. “I love it.”
Mark glanced around the empty room.
“It’s not all we need,” Angela said, wanting to explain. “But we’re moving the rest of our furniture this weekend.”
“I see. Did you lose a lot in the fire?”
“No, our apartment had some smoke damage, but not much. This was a temporary apartment until today.”
“My mom is going to be the assistant manager for Mr. Buckley,” Caroline offered in her usual “say-more-than-her-mom-wants” fashion.
Angela stammered to clarify, “It’s just part-time, but this unit is closer to the office.”
“And it’s bigger. I get my own room. Come see it!”
“I’m sure Mr. Shafer needs to get back to the tree farm, Caroline,” Angela said as she walked over and opened the door. “Thank you again for the tree.” She motioned to it and felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
He looked again at Caroline. “Are you feeling better?”
“Lots,” she said.
“We’re having hayrides at the farm tomorrow, and my offer is still good for that tour,” Mark said.
“Can we, Mom? Can we?” Caroline asked.
“I’m not sure when we’ll have time.” Angela paused. “Maybe next year.”
Maybe our life will be less complicated then.
“No. Don’t wait that long,” he said rather gravely. “I have an idea. How about dinner? Would you and your family like to join us on Christmas Day? We have a big meal, and we always like to invite new ... new friends.”
“Can my grandma come? She’s mostly the only family we have, sort of.”
If Angela had followed her instincts, she would have flatly declined his offer. No, they didn’t need to have dinner at the farm, and what did he mean by “new friends” anyway? She wasn’t in the mood to sit at a table with him and his girlfriend. And what was Caroline doing inviting her grandmother?
Like that would ever happen.
“That would be great, yes. Bring her. I’d love to meet her.” Mark smiled.
Why does he have to be so genuine?
Angela opened her mouth to answer, and somewhere between looking at Caroline’s pleading face, the fresh-cut pine tree, and Mark’s eager eyes, her instinct and reason lost the majority vote.
“Sure. That’s very generous of you. I’ll have to ask my mother.” She smiled back at Mark and shot Caroline a look. “But we’ll come.”
“Great! I’ll tell Donna to plan for three more, just in case.” He winked at Caroline. “We’ll eat around noon.”
As soon as Angela closed the door, Caroline squealed and threw her arms around her mom’s waist. “Do you know what this means?”
“Yes. I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“No, whatever that is. It means we get to have a big family dinner for Christmas, like I wanted,” she declared. “Let’s go move our stuff!”
Chapter 14
Mark left the Blackstone Apartments and checked his watch to make sure he’d have enough time to drive back to the farm and get his BMW and then pick up Natalie. He took the turnpike, and as he drove, he planned the proposal. At least, he tried, but it seemed his thoughts had a mind of their own and wanted to sort out this Angela. He didn’t know she was the resident in unit 12 that Brett had told him about. She had been quick to mention that Mr. Buckley called for the tree, but she did let him in and she had thanked him. She had even smiled at him.
So?
The empty apartment had given him no more clues about her.
How long has she been single? Does she have a boyfriend? She must. Why does that matter to me? What am I doing? And what will Natalie say when she finds out I invited Angela to Christmas dinner?
He reached to put in a different music CD, but this was his work truck and not his BMW. No CD player here.
I’ll have to explain that it’s part of our farm tradition—we have neighbors and friends share Christmas dinner with us every year. What can she say to that?
He dropped off the truck, picked up his car and flowers, and raced to where Natalie worked. He arrived a few minutes before five and waited outside her store to surprise her. Temperatures had dropped ten degrees overnight and it hadn’t even reached twenty degrees all day. She walked out with a co-worker.
He approached them on the sidewalk before they crossed the parking lot to their cars. Her friend pointed to him, and Natalie turned and froze. He quickened his step, excited by the look of surprise on both their faces. She turned to her friend, said something, and turned back. Her friend took off speed-walking across the parking lot.
“What are you doing here?” Natalie asked.
“Happy Friday!” Mark said. “I came to pick you up so we could ride together. It’s out of the way, but I’ll bring you back after dinner. There’s something I want you to see.”
He handed her the bouquet. She hesitated before she took it.
“You’re not allergic to roses, are you?”
“Yeah—I mean, no. They’re beautiful. Sorry, I’m just shocked to see you here.” She looked over her shoulder in the direction of her friend.
“I didn’t embarrass you, did I?” Mark started to doubt his attempt to be more romantic, or whatever Dave was.
“No, I told Erin I’d call her later.”
“Good. Let’s go, then.”
The sun had set and the roads were slick. Natalie asked Mark about the sale of the farm and how it was coming along. He told her about the tentative close date for February.
“So this will be the last Christmas that the Shafer tree farm will be open?” she asked.
Did she have to state the obvious? “Yes, I guess so. Unless Papa and Donna decide to continue operating the craft barn. You wouldn’t believe how much her business has picked up in the last few weeks.” His stomach tightened again. He still hadn’t told Donna about the sale.
“And you’re sure your grandfather doesn’t know what you’re doing? What will he do if he finds out? Would he try to stop you?” she probed.
“I hope not. What can he do now that I own the farm? Don’t worry,” he said. But he did worry. Even as he tried to reassure her, he felt the
doubt press upon his plans. What will this really mean for Papa? Am I doing the right thing?
“At this point, you’re so close, I’d hate to see anything get in the way of your dream.” She said as she smiled.
They arrived at the house, and Dave was on the porch waiting.
“Come on in, you two. You picked the coldest night in December to be here.”
Mark and Natalie walked from room to room. He showed off the studio in the basement, and they returned to Dave in the kitchen.
“What do you think?” Dave asked.
Mark waited to hear what Natalie had to say. She looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Oh, what do I think? It’s a nice place. A great space with four bedrooms. Wow!” She looked at Mark. “It fits you,” she offered sweetly.
“Hey, I’ve got a call. I’ll take it outside in my car.” Dave nodded to Mark.
He took the cue. “Natalie, I forgot to show you something downstairs in the studio.”
They walked back down to the finished basement and he opened the door to the studio. He pulled out one of the cushioned stools and motioned for her to sit. He glanced at his watch. Could he do this before Dave returned?
He slipped off his gloves and his coat and pulled out the ring box.
“You’re wearing a suit!”
“I told you we were celebrating, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but what?” she stopped.
He inadvertently glanced at his watch again, opened the box, and asked, “Natalie, will you marry me?”
She stood up, her mouth falling open. “Mark, are you serious? We haven’t talked about this.” She looked at him and back at the ring. “I didn’t expect this. One minute, you’re showing me this house—”
“Wait, I was going to kneel. Should I kneel?” This wasn’t going at all like he’d planned.
“No, you don’t have to kneel.”
He knelt anyway. “After I met you, I felt like my dreams became possible. You’ve understood my passion for music and you’ve supported the steps I’ve taken to make that dream become a reality. I want you to be a part of that future with me,” he said, gaining confidence as he finished.
Natalie sat back down and stared at the ring. This was the moment where he planned she’d say “yes” or some version of it, and maybe be excited. He took the ring from the box and held her hand.
“May I?”
She nodded.
“There. I love you, Natalie.”
“I guess you do. I love you too.”
They hugged, and Mark started to kiss her.
“Are you down there, Mark?” Dave called from the top of the stairs.
That could not have been fifteen minutes.
“Let’s go to dinner,” Mark said. He grabbed his coat and took her by the hand.
As they left the house Mark thanked Dave. “I owe you one.”
They finished dinner, and Mark took Natalie back to the store where her car was parked. He felt like he carried the conversation most of the night—Natalie was quieter than usual. The few times she did talk, she asked questions about his family.
“Did you say you have a sister in LA?” she asked.
“I do. She usually calls around this time of year to say she isn’t coming to visit for Christmas. Who knows, maybe this year she’ll come. Do you want to meet her? She’s very artsy, and very southern Californian.”
“You’re not that close, then. Does she know about me?”
Mark was confused at first, and then it clicked.
“Not yet, but don’t worry. I love you, and my family will too,” he said.
“I doubt it,” she muttered.
Yeah, it may take Papa and Donna a while before they love her like I do.
He leaned across to her seat and kissed her good night. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Engaged. Where was the relief he expected to feel? Or at least the excitement? Instead, Natalie seemed shocked, and rightly concerned about the family.
Maybe we should wait a few days before we say anything.
Chapter 15
Mr. Buckley had asked Angela to come in on Saturday. She only agreed because Caroline was able to play with a friend from school. She could put in some extra hours so he wouldn’t mind if she took a few days off around the holiday. Maybe the phones and office traffic would be light.
“Good morning, Angela.” His voice was cooler.
“Hi Mr. Buck—uh, Don. How are you today?”
“I’m fine, sort of.”
Okay, then. That cafeteria job looks better all the time.
“Hey, did you help Mrs. Carlson with her lease renewal yesterday?” he asked with the same cool tone.
“I did. She came in right before I left. You weren’t here, so—”
“Where did you put it?”
Oh, no. Did I put it in the wrong place?
Angela walked over to his file cabinet, cringing. She avoided getting any closer to where he worked than she had to. “I put it right back in this file.” Her voice wavered as she answered. When she opened the folder and flipped through the contracts, it wasn’t there. “Unless I forgot to file it ...”
“Did you put it in this folder, by chance?” He sat in his chair with the home office folder in his hand and held it up for her to see. Angela put the other file away slowly.
“I don’t know. Did I?”
“Well, would you look at that? Here it is,” he said dryly.
What’s with him?
“I was thinking, Angela, that if you are going to be working here at least twenty hours a week, we should have a little talk about our office procedures.” He closed the folder and pushed his chair back from the desk. “You’re pretty quick, the way you pick up on things. I should have known. I mean, if I’d known how helpful you were going to be, I would have been more specific.”
Angela walked over to her desk and pretended to be interested in the paperwork on it.
“I’ll take care of the lease renewals and the maintenance calls. You’re here to handle the phones and the filing and a few other things during our first-of-the-month crunch.”
He spoke with a scolding tone she hadn’t heard from him before. And she didn’t like it.
“That’s fine.” She swallowed some of her pride and continued, “Sorry if I filed that lease in the wrong place. I won’t do that again.”
“Mistakes happen. Let me just say this—we’re in this together. You keep my secrets, and I’ll keep yours.”
What?
“I don’t have any secrets. What are you talking about?” she asked, dumbfounded. She stopped shuffling papers and glared at him. The office felt small; couldn’t someone walk in and need something?
“Don’t play dumb now. It’s too late for that. If you keep to yourself, I won’t mention our deal to home office, all right?”
“What deal? Look, Mr. Buckley, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I never asked for any special treatment. There’s been some misunderstanding. I won’t do any more lease renewals, okay?” Angela’s heart pounded, her palms wet.
“Simmer down now. I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.” He continued, “We’re still going to get along fine. Do the work I ask you to do, and you and your daughter can keep a roof over your heads.”
Was that a threat? Her stomach twisted into knots. She fumbled for her coat. “I’ve got to go pick up Caroline,” she said.
She didn’t wait for him to ask if she was coming back later. She left the office and took deep breaths of the chilled air as fast as she could to ease the swelling nausea. She muttered things under her breath, things like “how dare he?” and “who does he think he is?” And a few other words like “obnoxious” and “cheat” while she was at it.
When Angela picked up her daughter, all Caroline talked about were hot dogs, hot chocolate, and hayrides.
“Please, Mom, please let’s go. We can unpack later.”
Angela checked the gauge on her dash and hoped they
’d have enough gas to make it there and back. “I think that’s a great idea, Caroline.”
At least I can put Mr. Buckley and that office behind me.
The sun shone bright in a clear, cloudless sky, and it had warmed up to fifty degrees. They passed the dairy farm, and Caroline said something about the cows.
“Did you hear me? I wonder what it’s like to milk a cow,” she said.
“I couldn’t say. We didn’t have any of those in the Elliott home.” Angela looked across the snow-covered pasture and off to the ridge of trees behind it. “We didn’t have views like that, either.”
They took the right turn after the Shafer Tree Farm sign.
“I like this part of the trip,” Caroline said.
“Why is that?”
“This road looks so cool, with all the trees on both sides,” she said. “It feels like we’re in the middle of the forest. Doesn’t it feel ... enchanted?”
Angela glanced at her daughter’s raised-eyebrow expression. She looked into the dense wood as far as the sunlight allowed and shook her head.
“Look at the trees. It’s like they’re guards.” Caroline continued.
“Guarding what?” Angela asked.
“I don’t know. Secrets?”
“What an imagination you have.”
The farm buzzed with families. Caroline and Angela walked over to the tent set up next to the craft barn where they were serving hot chocolate and hot dogs. They ate at a picnic table, and Caroline recognized a girl from her school class. Angela visited with her mother for a few minutes until Caroline asked to see the craft tables.
They browsed the specialty decorations—everything from gorgeous handmade Christmas quilts to alphabet blocks that spelled NOEL. Angela looked up from a table of ornaments and saw Mark Shafer walking through the maze of customers. She turned her attention back to the crafts and hoped she’d go unnoticed.
No such luck. He approached the table where they stood. “Glad you made it today,” he said to Angela. “Looks like another hayride is about to start.” He pointed the wagon out to Caroline. “Papa’s driving this one. You’ll get an extra-long ride.”
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