Sweet Christmas Kisses (140 page)

****

Matthew was keyed up by the conversation and barely ate any lunch. “Mommy, can we go to the farm? I might need to work today.”

“Sweetie, they may not be working since it’s Sunday.”

“Please? Can you call? I miss it when I go to school.”

Although Lillian had insisted she loved having Matthew and he was no trouble at all, we all realized she and Francie needed to spend time getting the Christmas shop ready for the season, so I had decided to find a preschool for Matthew. It was one thing to order the stock and put it on the shelves, but Francie and Carla said their mother had decided to overhaul the whole place this year. She planned to take all the shelving and tables out, give the place a fresh coat of glossy snow-white paint, paint the fixtures, and put them back in. And
then
put all the merchandise on display. With Matthew to care for every day, that chore would have been impossible.

It had been late in the semester, but with some cajoling, I had been able to get Matthew into a preschool three days a week. This had been Matthew’s first week of school, and he had enjoyed it but missed his friends at the farm. So, without giving it another thought, I gave in.

I sent a text to Francie, and she replied they’d love for us to come out. As usual anymore, Jim was right there when we arrived. Daisy trotted along with him as he got off the four-wheeler and approached Lillian’s house. Matthew ran over to them and Jim swung him up into the air.

Once he was back on the ground, Matthew asked, “Mr. Jim, can Daisy and me ride on your four-wheeler? Please.”

Jim looked at me. “Mel, how do you ever look down into those eyes and say no?”

Jim and Matthew sent identical, quizzical expressions my way.

“It’s not easy. But you can’t say ‘yes’ when the right answer is ‘no.’ Just because it’s easier to go along with whatever the request is, doesn’t mean you should do it.” I sighed. “Sometimes it’s just being the bad guy. I feel that way a lot.”

Jim smiled and shook his head. “You’re not a very believable bad guy.” He crouched down to Matthew’s eye level. “Sorry, pardner. We could maybe all go in my truck though.”

“Yay! Miss Lillian too?”

“Sure, if she wants to. How about you ask her?”

“Okay!” Matthew raced to the house, knocked loudly a couple of times, and burst in. As part of the family now, he knew the routine. Jim walked toward me, Daisy milling around him, as if she knew a truck ride was in her future.

“Mel, you up for a tour?”

“Oh. Well, we came out to see if you needed help.”

“I get that. We can always use Matthew’s help. He’s everybody’s bright spot these days. It’d be nice for you to see more of the farm. We’ll have plenty of chaperones, so it should be safe.”

Safe for me—or for you, Jim?

Lillian came out the front door, pulling on her jacket as Matthew chattered encouragement. She was smiling and had a nice pink color in her cheeks. Yep, Matthew’s enthusiasm had done a lot of good for Lillian, it seemed.

“This is a fun surprise on a Sunday afternoon.” She hugged me, then turned to Jim. “I hear we’re taking a drive, son. Matthew seems to think the three of us are going to sit in the cab with Daisy on our laps.” She reached down and touched the boy’s head. “But my guess is that Daisy will be in the bed. How do you see it working?”

“In the bed? Not the truck?” Matthew looked back and forth from Lillian to Jim.

“The back of the truck is called the bed, pardner.” Jim let down the tailgate and Daisy immediately jumped in and ran toward the cab end. He closed the tailgate again with a slam. “There. Now she has plenty of room. Once we get going you’ll see how she rides. Then I bet you’ll be glad Daisy’s not up front with us.” He opened the passenger door and looking at me, raised one eyebrow. “Coming with us, Mel?”

“Mommy! Yes, you ride too.”

Jim helped Mathew up into the cab, and then gave his mom a hand up too. Then it was my turn. I squeezed in and turned to pull the door closed, but Jim was still standing there.

Just looking in my eyes and smiling. I had no idea how long that lasted. A few seconds or a couple of minutes—no idea. Nothing else seemed to exist.

“Hey! We’re burnin’ daylight.”

We all laughed at Matthew’s cowboyism. Jim winked at me and pushed the door gently closed. Lillian was whispering something to Matthew, so maybe that wink was our secret. It was a tiny delight to have that one sweet moment between the two of us, without any snide comment alongside it.

So long ago there had been many little moments like that—a secret smile, a wink no one else saw. Shared dreams. It had been a long time since anything positive had existed between us.

****

In preparation for our senior prom night, some of the moms got together and organized a party for afterward. Back then the junior class had the job of decorating the gymnasium, and only juniors and seniors could attend the dance. This year’s junior class had done an outstanding job of transforming the place into a tropical paradise. Grass huts, a semi-believable waterfall, and big colorful raffia flowers everywhere. To go along with the theme, these moms had convinced Mr. and Mrs. Osborne to host an after-prom party for a bunch of us kids. There were some other after-prom parties at houses in town too, and a lot of kids went to restaurants in Louisville afterward instead, which was way cooler, but parents didn’t like it because of the distance and safety concerns. But I wasn’t one of the cool kids, just brainy. Jim was smart and handsome and very cool, partly because he was quarterback of the football team. But since Lillian was one of the organizers, and she and Harry were good friends of the hosts, he was pretty much forced into the event at the Osborne house.

Jim and I were an item, and had been our whole senior year. Alice Campbell was in our class and was going to prom with Dean Campbell after a brutal breakup from hunky Jamison Kincaid. Jim and I were in the prom king and queen competition. Fortunately, the couple that won actually ended up getting married and still are as far as I know. It would have been awful to look at yearbooks down the road and be faced with yourself and Mr. Wrong, wearing matching Prom Royalty crowns. Jim’s sister Carla was a junior, David a sophomore, and Francie was a freshman.

The Osbornes were a really nice, middle-aged couple. Their kids were older than us, out of college, and living their lives someplace interesting. Jim and I, and Carla and her date, whose name I’ve forgotten, drove the few blocks from the high school to the Osborne house and arrived a little after some of the others. I was surprised to see Diana Reynolds there. Sure, she was a senior too, but the crowd she usually ran with had ditched the end of prom and headed for Louisville. Diana’s date was also a member of the football team. Greg was known as being a hard-hitter, and though he didn’t always abide by the rules, he consistently got results the coach wanted. I didn’t like or trust him and felt the same about Diana. I’m afraid it probably showed on my face or in my demeanor. There were thirty or so of us kids, playing music too loudly, eating lots of junk food, and swimming in the beautiful heated pool. At that time, there wasn’t a pool house, so you had to change in a little bathroom just off the kitchen.

When Diana emerged in her bathing suit, it was as if angels started singing and playing harps while aiming a spotlight at her. Anyway, that’s the way Jim acted. He followed her and that barely-there bikini the rest of the night. It was disgusting. I was beyond angry, and Lillian and Carla took up for me with Jim. And if you know anything about teenage boys, you know that pressure from his mother and sister did nothing for me and everything to ruin the evening more thoroughly.

Well, Diana and her date headed for his car about the same time the four of us started out. Diana was still in the bikini, which clung damply to her, but had put her high heels back on and draped the shawl from her prom dress provocatively over one shoulder. Who knows where the rest of the dress had ended up. With that going on just a car length away, it’s a wonder Jim was even able to remember how to get his car started.

He managed to drive me home and left me on the doorstep with a peck on my cheek. I felt like slapping him, but Carla and what’s-his-name were in the car watching. Prom was on a Friday or Saturday, and I didn’t hear from Jim the rest of the weekend. On Monday at school everybody was talking about what had happened at the Osborne’s party. Not just those of us who were there or even those who’d been at prom, but every single occupant of the entire school building was talking about the awful way Jim had treated me and salivated after Diana. I heard whispers all day long that Jim was getting ready to break up with me. By the end of the school day, I was nearly in tears, and whom did I meet in the hall near the art room door? Oh yeah, Ms. Bikini.

She just leered at me and said, “I guess you know he’s mine.”

Yes it was childish, and yes, if the relationship had been important to Jim and me, nothing would have come of any of it. But he called me that night and broke up with me. On the phone.

Pretty lame, huh?

Diana’s dad was the circuit court judge. He had been a friend of Harry Standish for years, and they’d been on the football team together back in the stone ages. Jim had told everyone all through high school that he wanted to be a lawyer, and it worked out that way. Jim and Diana got married, her dad was a mentor to Jim, and when he graduated and passed the bar, he got a job at the law firm Judge Reynolds had helped establish before running for judge.

It was all very cozy and happy.

And that Monday after prom, I could see the handwriting on the wall. I wasn’t going to stay in Serendipity or come back after college and have to witness any more antics from Jim and Diana “Bikini” Standish. I was going to make my own life.

****

Jim started the truck and Daisy began running from side to side, barking joyfully.

“Boy, is she happy.” said Matthew, twisting around to see.

“Yep. I don’t take her along very often.”

“She likes to go, Mr. Jim.”

“Sure. But Daisy is Miss Lillian’s dog. She stays there most of the time.”

“Daisy is a good dog. Does she take care of you, Miss Lillian?”

“Yes, she does.” Lillian sighed and looked out the windshield. “Pretty much everybody takes care of me these days.”

“That’s ’cause we love you,” said Matthew, patting her hand.

Lillian turned back and kissed Matthew’s cheek. She looked near tears.

“And ’cause you make great cookies. Right, Mr. Jim?”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, pardner. On both counts.” He smiled at his mom and she wiped a tear away, smiling too.

“I haven’t been out this way in too long. Jim, you’ve kept everything looking wonderful. These trees are shaped just right.”

“I haven’t done it alone, of course.”

She shook her head. “Most everything has fallen to you, honey, and I appreciate all you’ve done. Your father would be so proud.” Maybe she’d been about to say more, but her voice broke, and we just rode along the track in companionable silence, except for Daisy’s happy barks and the complaining truck springs when they hit the deeper ruts.

“What do you do to the trees, Mr. Jim?”

“Oh. Jim, honey, can you show him?”

“Sure.” He stopped the truck and took a pair of pruners out of the big plastic toolbox in the bed. Daisy sat down, wagging her tail, likely wondering if the ride was over already. Jim let the tailgate down in case she wanted to run around, and then the rest of us piled out and followed him to a huge tree.

“This blue spruce is just going to grow and grow. We let some of them do that because it’s so pretty. But to take home, people need trees that are smaller than that. And they want them to be shaped a certain way.” He led us a few yards further. “Now, this tree is about your age, Matthew.

“Looky at this tree, Mommy! It’s four like me!”

“Yes, I see.”

Jim led us to a white pine, which had always been my favorite because of the soft needles.

“This one is growing really well, but when they’re smaller I have to cut some out of the top so the tree grows fatter instead of growing up real skinny. Most people don’t like skinny Christmas trees.” He gestured with the pruners to a cut he’d made that summer. “See this? It’s healed over, but that’s where I had to trim this branch a little bit, to improve the shape of the tree.”

Matthew examined the tip of the branch, touching it with one finger, and then ran his little hand along the needles. “It’s soft. And it smells good.” He took a deep breath and then stood silent for a bit, seeming to listen. “The trees are singing.”

A strong breeze had begun to blow through the trees, creating a soughing sound. Lillian and Jim and I exchanged knowing smiles.

“That song is pretty,” he said, looking at me for confirmation. I nodded. “This is the beautifullest farm, huh Mommy?”

Lillian gestured to the vista below us. “You just wait ’til there’s snow on these trees, Matthew. And when people start coming here for their Christmas trees. That’s when it’s the very most beautiful.”

“Christmas is fun!” Matthew was animated again, and grasped Lillian’s hand. “You like Christmas, Miss Lillian?”

“Yes, I do. I love it. My husband loved it too. Jim and Carla and Francie and David’s dad, he was my husband. And he loved Christmas more than anyone I’ve ever known. He worked hard all year so people could have the prettiest trees. And when it was almost Christmas time, he worked even harder, but the whole time he was smiling and happy because it’s what he loved to do.” She sighed.

“Now Mr. Jim does that?”

“A lot of it. But he has another job too, so it’s hard on him.”

“Oh, Mom.”

“Well, it is. I don’t want you having a heart attack and dying like your father, Jim.”

“Mom, I’m perfectly fine. And besides I’m twenty years younger.”

Matthew had been listening intently. “Mr. Jim needs a helper. He needs elves, like Santa.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Lillian said, smoothing Matthew’s dark hair. I wonder where we could find some good elves.”