Kristmas Collins (35 page)

“You’re scaring me, Mom,” Robbie said, standing next to his father.

She lit up when she saw her boy.

“It just wasn’t Christmas without you, Rudi,” Herm said.

Then he caught a glimpse of her face. “What happened to your nose?”

“It’s nothing. I got gooched.”

“Gooched?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you’re running around your apartment with a shotgun?”

“It was a long night, Herm. Can we talk about it later?”

Robbie ran to the kitchen, and returned with a mug, holding it steady with both hands. “We made your favorite, Mom.”

She smiled lovingly at him as she took hold of the cup of hot chocolate. It hit the spot. She wasn’t kidding with the “long night” stuff, and now that the run used up her last energy reserves, it was really starting to hit her.

Robbie pulled out the phone his father had got him for Christmas, and showed it to her. “It has video call, so Dad I can talk no matter where he is!”

She smiled, but it was bittersweet, thinking about Herm once again taking off to parts unknown.

The dogs began barking in the other room. “Why don’t you go feed them, Robbie,” his father instructed, and the boy headed off.

“Thank you for my Christmas gift,” Alyson said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t given it to you yet.”

“The one that was left in the helicopter? Feel like explaining how you just happened to make a trip to the city, and landed next to my roommate on a train?”

“It’s been a long couple days, Rudi. Can we talk about it later?”

He flashed a sly smile—the one that had hooked her like a small-mouth bass the first time they’d met. The innocent farm-boy mixed with the hotshot fly-boy—for Alyson it was a lethal combination. His face was now lined with his travels and his buzz-cut had thinned, but he still had the same strong presence.

They were both thrill-seeking daredevils back in those days. But after Robbie was born, she’d lost her sense of adventure—last night notwithstanding—and became the protector, deciding to leave the nomadic military life behind. Herm never lost his, and continued on with his career, which took him to all parts of the globe. When the situation grew unworkable, they divorced. It was the best way to provide a healthy, stable environment for Robbie.

“Sure, we can talk about it later, but I’ll accept my gift now,” she said.

“I’m not gift enough?” he said with the same grin.

“You said you hadn’t given it to me yet. Since you were already here when you made the statement, that must mean that it’s something other than you.”

“How about I show you?”

They put on their winter hats and coats, and headed out with the dogs. Robbie tagged along in his own world, wearing his music-blasting headphones. Alyson’s first thought was that they were headed to the Promenade, one of their favorite spots, but she soon found herself walking through Fort Greene and Williamsburg, before reaching Greenpoint, the most northern portion of Brooklyn. Between her run and now hour-long walk, Alyson figured she wouldn’t have to work out for a month. But still no word on their destination.

“I have something to tell you,” Herm finally said, sounding serious.

“What is it?”

“I decided that I’m not going to re-enlist when my commitment is up in the spring. I’m going to become a civilian.”

She was caught off guard. But felt a twinge of excitement. “I thought you had decided to sign up again?”

“I guess I just started to think about what’s really important to me. I’ve given most of my adult life to my country, and I don’t regret a minute of it, but it’s time for some stability. I’m not getting any younger.”

“What are you planning to do?” she asked, feeling like everything had changed in a few precious seconds.

“I’m a farmer. That’s what I was born and raised to be. And it’s what I’m going to do.”

She stiffened her upper lip. His family’s farm was about a nine-hour drive from New York, but at least now there would be a consistent second home for Robbie. And Alyson knew that Herm’s mother was getting to the point where she could no longer take care of the farm.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you,” she said, and she was, even if she secretly hoped the thing that made it worth leaving the military for would be moving back with her and Robbie.

“There’s no chance you and Robbie will move out to the farm in Pohio?” he asked.

“I can’t, Herm … we’ve been over this. My job, Robbie’s school …” She sighed. “I guess a city girl and a farm boy were never meant to be together.”

“Just checking to be sure,” he said as they kept walking. To where, she had no idea. Every time she asked, he told her it was a surprise.

Alyson’s feet were frozen, and she was getting ready to decline whatever gift/surprise he had in store, when Herm suddenly stopped. If she was expecting the prince to take her to the castle, she would have to settle for her ex-husband bringing her to what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

“What is this place?” Alyson asked.

“What do you say we go in and find out?”

Anything to defrost her feet. Robbie must have been thinking the same thing, because he was already running toward the front door. They followed him into a cavernous room that appeared to be under renovation.

All Alyson saw was dust. But beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and Robbie exclaimed, “This place is cool! I could ride my bike in here!”

They climbed a winding staircase up three stories to the top floor, which looked like it was once office space. If nothing else, with its large windows, it had a sweeping view of the East River and the Manhattan skyline.

Herm opened a door that led to the rooftop, and he helped them through. Waiting for them was Libby’s boyfriend, Ned. Now she was thoroughly confused.

When she looked out over the expansive rooftop of the warehouse, her confusion changed to amazement. “What is this place?”

“It’s going to be called Rudingo Farms—a 5,000 square foot green roof organic vegetable farm right in the heart of the city. I said I was going to become a farmer, I never said I was going back to Pohio.” He grinned. “Well, unless you and Robbie agreed to go when I just asked. I wasn’t signing the papers until I was sure.”

“You’re going to be a vegetable farmer in Brooklyn?” she asked.

“Merry Christmas.”

Ned explained the details. He made them close their eyes and picture the greenery of summer, or the fall harvest with red tomatoes bursting to life with the sun rising over the East River. Radishes and lettuce flourishing on the rooftop. And while it looked barren and snow covered on Christmas day, there was a modern greenhouse, which would allow lettuce and other produce to be harvested through the winter, when many of the restaurants in the area struggled to get fresh local produce.

Alyson remained flabbergasted. “But how can you afford this?”

Ned spoke for him, “The farm received a hefty grant from the DEP’s Green Infrastructure Grant Program, which will help. As will the fact that Morzetti’s restaurant is waiting to sign an exclusive contract with Rudingo Farms to provide them fresh produce each day. An upscale restaurant like that only wants to use the freshest foods, which isn’t easy to do in the city.”

Herm added, “And the law firm of Wainwright-Collins & Rudingo purchased the bottom floor. They will be moving here after the construction is finished, and will be hanging out a shingle. That will cover a lot of the expenses for the farm.”

Her mouth dropped open. “We’re moving here?”

“Not until you sign off on it, since you’re a partner in the firm,” Ned added.

“Libby would do that for me? Her commute will be utter hell!” She looked at Herm and something hit her. “That’s why you came—the helicopter.”

More grinning. “I was supposed to meet with Ned and Kris to finalize the details. When Kris no-showed, we eventually tracked him down on his daughter’s cell phone. Turns out he was in quite a predicament over at Macy’s and needed some immediate help.”

“So what do you say?” Ned asked.

She grabbed the pen and approval sheet, and signed it before anyone could change their mind.

When Robbie returned, Ned said, “Come on, let me show you the third floor. Herm will be turning it into an apartment, or I guess in this case it would be called a farmhouse.”

“You’re going to live here? Talk about taking your job home with you.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” he said and looked intently at her. “But it’s really expensive living in the city.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I was hoping to find a roommate to help cover the costs.”

It took her a moment to realize he was talking about her. But when she did, she ran and jumped into his arms. With the sun going down behind the cityscape in the background, he swung her around as they kissed. The city girl was about to become a farmer.

Just as I’d remembered it, the anticipation and excitement of Christmas morning slowly dissipated like a balloon losing its air, until it finally settled into an early afternoon malaise. But to be fair, the fun-factor of most parties plummets after Alexander and Beatrice Wainwright hightail it away in their limo.

My mother had received a special invitation to tour the twins’ castle, so she ventured out in the cold like a trooper, while Taylor and Alex lay like lumps on the couch in the living room, fighting over control of the television. There were ten TVs in the house, give or take, but I guessed it wouldn’t have been as much fun to find their own. Alex wanted to watch a basketball game, but Taylor preferred the ongoing coverage of the Santa Burglar. I was rooting for Alex to win out, but when it came to these battles of will with his sister, he tended to be the hopeless underdog.

The phone rang, annoying Taylor, as it interrupted her viewing of the news coverage. By the bounce in Libby’s voice, I knew it was Ned. And suddenly I was very interested in this call.

When she hung up, Libby looked in my direction. “It’s a done deal—I guess we’re going to be moving.”

This got the kids’ attention, and they were finally unified. “What do you mean moving?” Taylor asked with an edge. “I’m not going anywhere for my senior year!”

“Not that you’d have any say in it, young lady, but I’m referring to our law office. We’re transferring to Brooklyn.”

Once they were convinced that this didn’t affect their daily lives, Taylor and Alex returned to their struggle for television superiority.

I had run into Herm at a Labor Day picnic that Libby held for the employees of the law firm, and their families—all five of us—and he confided in me that he was thinking seriously about leaving the military next spring when his obligation was up. He’d asked that I not say anything to Alyson, since he hadn’t yet made up his mind, and didn’t want to get Robbie’s hopes up.

So fast-forward to earlier this month, when I was searching for a special Christmas gift, as a thank you for her support the last few years. I didn’t know where to start, so I asked Libby for advice. And as we discussed possibilities, Herm’s words from the picnic came up. We both agreed that there would be no better gift than the opportunity for their family to be together again now that Herm was leaving the military, and we needed to find the bridge between New York and Pohio. Whether or not they chose to rekindle their love, which I’d long suspected was still there, would be up to them—I was the least qualified person on the planet to play matchmaker.

At that point, Libby got her boyfriend involved—still a strange concept for me. And in his words, he had “the perfect bridge to bring them together. And what place is more famous for a bridge than Brooklyn?”

Since all my assets had been turned over to Libby prior to my sentence, and she would be the one to sign on the dotted line in any purchase, she came along with Ned and me to view the warehouse farm. And that’s when she fell in love with the possibilities of the future.

The building required a lot of work, and portions would need to be rebuilt from the bottom up. But it more symbolized Libby’s vision of the law office than the glitzy building in Midtown. And it was more than just a fresh start—which remains the story she’s sticking to—it was about the thing that was most important to Libby … keeping family together. Even if it was somebody else’s family, as it was in this case. And once she decided she was all in, there was no way Ned or I could talk her out of it.

“So are you ready, Dad?” Taylor asked.

If she meant ready to go to sleep until next Christmas, then the answer was yes. But since she had a backpack slung over her shoulder and kept nervously checking the time, I realized she had something else in mind.

“The soup kitchen?” she said with a sigh, assuming correctly that I’d forgotten.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I said, pulling myself off the couch. It wasn’t easy.

Taylor tossed me a set of car keys. “Mom said you can take the Ferrari.”