The Construction of Cheer

by Liz Isaacson

  Arizona stepped to his side with a box in her hand. “Every year, we hang Grandmother’s ornaments on the tree in remembrance of someone who’s no longer with us.” She smiled though her eyes filled with tears. “Some people say a few words as they hang their ornament. Some just think of the person they love and are missing. I keep trying to get us to go in order by decade of when Grandmother made the ornaments, but I keep getting outvoted.”

  She looked hopefully around the crowd, but Montana could tell she was about to be disappointed again. All of the men were shaking their heads, and Bear said, “We like to put up certain ones, Zona. Please don’t make us go in order,” in a very soft voice. The softest Montana had ever heard him use.

  “Okay,” she said, and she didn’t seem too put out. “If you know someone likes to hang a specific ornament, don’t take it from them.”

  “All are welcome to put up ornaments, as many as they want,” Bishop said. “For your family members who are gone. Maybe for someone who’s far from you that you wish you were closer to.” His eyes danced over to Montana and then away again. “There’s no right or wrong here, other than don’t take the bear. That’s obviously for Bear.”

  “The rocking horse is mine,” Cactus said.

  “I want the bird cage,” Sammy said. “I put that one up for my sister last year, if that’s okay.” She looked only a moment from crying too, and Montana basked in the reverence and spirit that abided in this home.

  Oh, how she loved this ranch, with its rich history and huge family tree. She wondered how in the world she’d gotten so lucky to land here. How had she possibly captured the attention of such an amazing man? How would she live up to the traditions they had here? How could she contribute?

  Others called out the ornaments they wanted, until Bishop held up his hand. “There are plenty of ornaments. Grandmother lived until she was ninety-four, and she made new ornaments every year. She came from the Depression Era, and she was a hoarder.” He smiled and chuckled. “We loved her to the end, and she loved each of us powerfully.”

  Bear nodded like that was the end of the story, and as he stepped back to Sammy’s side, he said, “All right. Let’s decorate it. Then Mother has her iced lemon cake, and I think Oakley brought gallons and gallons of leftover hot chocolate from the dealership.”

  People surged forward, toward the row of boxes that Arizona had put against the wall. They spoke in quiet voices, and Bishop turned back to her when she stayed put. “You don’t want to put one on?”

  “I do,” she said. “But I’m going to wait until the others have taken their favorites.” She grinned at him. “You go on.”

  “Aurora?” He looked at her, and Aurora stepped away from Montana to go with him.

  Aunt Jackie came to her side, and Montana leaned into her side-hug. “He is so wonderful, Montana. This is so wonderful.”

  “I think so too,” she said.

  “I want to put something on for my parents,” Uncle Bob said.

  “Go ahead,” Montana said.

  Aunt Jackie pressed a kiss to Montana’s forehead. “I’m going to find something that represents a baby and hang that for the one and only baby Bob and I lost.”

  “Aunt Jackie,” Montana said. “I didn’t know you lost a baby.”

  Aunt Jackie’s smile wavered, and her eyes looked like polished glass. “Just the one.” She went with Uncle Bob, and they sifted through several ornaments until they both found one they wanted to hang on the tree.

  “You have to elbow your way through them almost all the time,” Cactus said as he approached. He extended his hand toward her, and Montana shook her head at him, her emotions stabilizing. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  He’d scared her for a while there, but as she’d worked with him on his home designs, she’d realized that Cactus was very much like her. Bruised and scarred, with a past hidden behind closed and locked doors.

  He’d been more vigilant in keeping his doors closed, and he’d removed himself from everything in order to heal.

  She’d found in him a kind soul, and someone she absolutely understood.

  “Behind you,” Cactus said, and Preacher moved out of the way. “See?”

  “I see,” Montana said. She peered down into the box and saw at least a dozen ornaments. “Wow.” The skill it must have taken to make these. She reached for a couple and straightened to examine them closer. “How long did it take her to make one of these?”

  Cactus’s eyes shone like the sky surrounding a full moon. Deep, and dark, and navy, but bright and full of light. “She could crochet like lightning,” he said. “Mother can too.” He tossed her a smile, but she just shook her head.

  “Not like Grandmother.” She turned and hung a maple leaf on the tree.

  “She used liquid starch to form them into the three-dimensional pieces she wanted,” he said. “That was quite the process. If it didn’t form the way she wanted, she’d wash the starch out and try again.” He picked up one that looked like a toy car, complete with yellow thread woven through the circles on the front for the headlights. “Then she’d add the detail pieces in thread.”

  He turned away from Montana for a moment, saying, “Oakley, here’s that car Ranger was talking about.” He gave the car to Oakley, who looked like Cactus had just passed her a million dollars. Her cat wove through her legs, every so often giving a loud meow that no one paid any attention to.

  Benny, Sammy and Lincoln’s dog, wisely sat at the top of the steps, out of the fray, and Montana thought he was the smartest of them all.

  She looked at the items she’d picked up. One was a barn, which seemed absolutely fitting. The only detail on this ornament was a green wreath with a red bow done with a single piece of string. “I like this one.”

  “Feels appropriate,” Cactus said.

  Montana returned the pine tree to the box and selected another ornament. This one was an apple, and it utterly charmed her. It was pure white, and reminded her of the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve ate in the Garden of Eden.

  “Grandmother put that around a real apple when she starched it,” Bishop said. “I watched her do it. I think I was ten years old.” He smiled at her and took the apple from her hands. “She added the stem separately.” He laced a hook through the dark brown stem that was done in string, not the thicker white thread the ornaments themselves were made out of, and handed the fruit back to Montana.

  “I love everything about this,” she said.

  “It’s a good tradition,” he said. “Aurora put up an ornament for you,” he added in a whisper.

  Alarm rang through Montana. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Bishop said. “I didn’t mean to overhear her, and I don’t think she knows I did.”

  “What did she say?” She found her daughter down on the other end of the boxes with Aunt Jackie and Uncle Bob. They spoke with each other and then Judge as they selected ornaments. They fit here too, just like Montana had. She suspected anyone who walked through that big front door and made any effort at all would fit in here.

  “She just said, ‘for my mom. I love her.’”

  “Maybe that’s all it meant then,” Montana said. “I feel close to her, but maybe she doesn’t feel the same.”

  “Don’t overthink it,” Bishop said. “I have to go find Ace. Are you okay here alone?”

  “I’m good, yes.”

  “See you in a few.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and ducked out the front door.

  Montana turned back to the tree and marveled at how quickly it had filled. She found a spot she could hang the barn, and she thought, Thank you for leading me to this ranch.

  She hung the barn, feeling closer to the Glovers and God in that moment.

  She pinched the hook on the apple and moved around to the back of the tree. There was a little more space back here, and she closed her eyes. For my family, wherever they are and whatever they’re doing. I love you. I miss you.

&n
bsp; She hung the apple as a wave of sadness rolled over her. She was sad about the current status of her familial relationships. She’d been close to her sisters once, but not anymore. She wasn’t sure how to be close to someone she didn’t trust.

  No matter what, she felt another invisible burden she hadn’t known she was carrying lift from her shoulders. She rolled her neck, and there was nothing riding there anymore. No tension. No guilt. No resentment.

  “Mom,” Aurora said, approaching her. “They have a book.” She handed Montana the book with the brightly colored A B C strung on the front cover. “You need that for the library.”

  “I sure do,” Montana said. “Thank you, baby.” She hung the crocheted book on the tree, gazing at it with such joy. She reached for Aurora’s hand. “We’re okay, right, Aurora?”

  “Yeah, Mom.”

  “You like Bishop?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can tell me stuff. Or him. I’m fine with either. I just don’t want you to ever feel like you’re alone. You have both of us, or Aunt Jackie or Uncle Bob. Heck, any of these cowboys here would listen to you and help you if they could.”

  “I know, Mom.” She squeezed Montana’s hand. “Look at what I got a few minutes ago.” She took her phone out of her pocket and gave it to Montana.

  Her heart skipped and stopped, and she looked up at Aurora’s face first. She wore excitement there, so it couldn’t be a bad thing she’d gotten.

  She turned on the phone and Aurora said, “Ollie texted. Read it.”

  Montana tapped on the texting app and then Oliver’s name at the top—which was Most Amazing Boyfriend (Ollie)—in Aurora’s phone. She almost rolled her eyes at that nomenclature, but she managed to refrain.

  Rory, I have to see you. I’ve made a huge mistake, and I need to apologize. Are you home? When can we get together?

  Aurora had asked: What’s the mistake?

  Saying yes to Izzy.

  Montana looked up. “Bishop was right.” Another text came in, and she read it quickly. “Oh, dear. He’s at the house right now.”

  “He is?” Aurora took the phone back from Montana and giggled when she saw Oliver’s newest text.

  “When did you start going by Rory?” Montana asked.

  “I don’t,” Aurora said. “It’s just something Ollie calls me.” Her fingers flew across the screen. “Mom, how much longer are we going to be here?”

  “You came with Aunt Jackie and Uncle Bob,” Montana said. “But I don’t want you leaving before they’re ready.” She looked over her shoulder and saw them laughing with Bishop’s mother and aunt. “They love it here. It’s the huge family they’ve always wanted.”

  “Yeah.” Aurora didn’t sound happy. She looked up from her phone again. “Mom…could he come here?”

  Surprise lit through Montana, but she found herself nodding. If it were her most amazing boyfriend ready to apologize for his huge mistake, she’d want to talk to him as soon as possible too. “All right. Is he driving?”

  “He says his dad will bring him if we can give him a ride home.” She possessed so much hope in her eyes. “Please, Mom?”

  “I already said yes,” Montana said, not understanding where Aurora got her dramatic streak from.

  Aurora squealed, and she tapped once. “I’m going to call him. Be right back.” She darted across the foyer and outside, and Montana sighed.

  “Everything okay?” Bear asked.

  “Yes,” Montana said, smiling at him. “Thank you for having us here, Bear. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever participated in.”

  He nodded and hung a rocket ship on the tree. “You’re always welcome here, Montana. Even if Bishop can’t get his act together, you’ll be welcome here.”

  “He’s got a good act together,” she said.

  “Well, you tell me if he doesn’t,” Bear said. “I’ve looked out for Bishop for years, and I can thump him good for you.”

  Montana laughed, glad when Bear at least smiled. She suspected this angel tree ceremony was as hard as it was wonderful. After all, they were missing their fathers and uncles, their grandparents and aunts.

  “Let’s light it,” Ranger said. “Then it’s time for dessert.” He stepped behind the tree and waited until Ida had hung her last ornament and hurried back to Brady’s side. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” everyone chorused.

  Ranger plugged in the cord, and the tree burst to life with pure, white lights. Montana pressed one hand over her heart and ahhh’ed along with the others.

  The party did move then, but Montana didn’t go with it. She cast a look toward the front door and escaped that way instead. Aurora sat on the front steps in the stiff breeze. “They’re serving cake and hot chocolate,” Montana said. “Sitting out here isn’t going to make him arrive faster.”

  “You’re right.” Aurora got up, shivering, and followed Montana back inside. They got their desserts and joined Oakley, Etta, and Ida at one end of the table.

  “All right, ladies,” Montana said. “We have a dilemma and we need real advice.”

  “Oh, I love dilemmas,” Etta said with glee. “What is it?”

  “Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Montana asked Aurora.

  “I guess you better. I didn’t know there was a dilemma.”

  “Oh, there’s a dilemma,” Montana said. She quickly told the story of Oliver and Izzy and Aurora. “The boy is on his way here right now. He wants to quote—apologize. Does she take him back instantly? Or make him work for it?”

  “This is a real dilemma,” Ida said.

  “I once had a boyfriend who danced with someone else,” Arizona said. “While we were on a date. He didn’t get why it was a problem to have a job interview on the dance floor with another woman.”

  Montana sucked in a breath, the weight of every woman’s eye on her now.

  “Sounds ridiculous, right?” Arizona said. “I made him work for that apology. I vote you make him work for it, Aurora. Just because he’s fifteen doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

  Montana giggled, because she couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew it, Arizona was laughing too, and everyone else had joined in, even her daughter.

  “What’s so funny over here?” Duke Rhinehart asked, grinning at Arizona.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said casually. “Did you find that leftover pecan pie? Bishop likes to hide it in the back of the fridge.” She got up and led Duke away before Montana could dissolve into laughter again.

  “Make him work for it,” Oakley said. “You want to know why, Aurora?”

  Montana wanted to know why herself.

  “Why?” Aurora said.

  “Because it teaches him how to treat you,” Oakley said. “Never let a man treat you casually. If he wants to be with you, it’ll just be you. Not you and his wife, or you for lunch and someone else for dinner.”

  “Oakley,” Sammy said, shock in her voice. “You and his wife?”

  “You make him work to earn a place at your side,” Oakley said, scooping only frosting off her lemon cake. “Because that place? It’s worth a million bucks, and you’re worth it.” She nodded like that was that, and Montana couldn’t disagree with her.

  She met Aurora’s eye, and Aurora nodded. “So no waiting on the front steps.”

  “Oh, no.” Sammy clucked her tongue and shook her head. “No waiting out front. He has to come in here and get you from the party. In front of everyone. He has to want it.”

  “I wouldn’t squeal,” Montana said. “Just a suggestion.” She shrugged like she didn’t care if Aurora listened to her or not.

  “Absolutely no squealing,” Oakley said.

  “You wear a mask until he’s said he’s sorry at least three times,” Ida said. “Maybe four. Then you ask him what he’s going to do to make sure this doesn’t happen again, because your heart is precious, and it doesn’t deserve to get broken again.”

  “Four apologies?” Brady asked.

  “Sometimes five,” Ida said
coolly.

  “Only when you’re sure he’s desperate to be with you can you smile,” Etta said. “And make sure he asks before he kisses you. In fact, I usually initiate that make-up kiss. It’s soooo good.” She pointed her fork at Aurora. “Make sure that make-up kiss blows his mind. Then, next time he thinks it’s okay to say yes to another girl to be nice, he’ll have that to remember.”

  “Okie-dokie,” Montana said. “I think we’ve gotten all the free advice we need.” She glanced at Etta and shook her head.

  Etta only grinned. “What? I wish I could have a make-up kiss right now.”

  “You could call Jericho,” Ida said casually, but Etta scoffed.

  “Can you imagine?”

  “Yeah, I can,” Ida said dryly. “That’s why I suggested it. You liked him, Etta. Just because he wore a black jacket with brown boots doesn’t make him lame. You broke up with him over nothing.”

  “Hmm,” Etta said. “Maybe I did….”

  “He’s here,” Aurora said, holding up her phone.

  “He texted you to say he was here?” Oakley snatched the phone from Aurora’s hand. “You’re going to thank me for this.” She tapped while Aurora looked at her phone in horror. “There.” Oakley grinned and passed the phone back to Aurora.

  “Read it,” Sammy said.

  “She said, ‘Great, you can come ring the doorbell and ask for me like a Texas gentleman.’” Aurora looked up, her eyes wide. “I’m going to die.”

  Montana looked toward the wide, arched walkway that led into the foyer. Everyone else did too, Aurora included.

  “He’s not going to do that,” Aurora said. “What if—?”

  The doorbell rang, and Oakley pumped her fist into the air. “Now, you stay here. Let one of the cowboys get it. In fact.” She twisted, and called, “Cactus. Can you get that and give whoever it is a hard time for interrupting our party?”

  “Oh, Dear Lord,” Montana said at the same time as Etta and Sammy.

  “Sure thing,” Cactus said, leaving the kitchen.

  “Mom,” Aurora whimpered.

  “Put your mask on,” Ida said.