Page 15 of This Christmas
Besides, seeing Zane makes me want to cry, and I don’t want to cry in front of him.
Because of the amount of traffic on Main Street, I have no choice but to circle the block twice. Years and years ago, we used to be able to drive behind the buildings and park in the alley for deliveries. One too manybusted-in doors, scraped vans, and drunks sleeping off their alcohol-induced stupor from the Marching Soldier, our local watering hole, put a stop to that. The town council suggested gates go up at each end of the alley, with only the business owners, sanitation crew, and local law enforcement having a key. This effectively made deliveries a pain in the tailpipe because parking is at a minimum on Main Street.
On my third time around the block, I’m about to give up and head to my office, but a spot opens right in front of Whitaker’s. I drive forward and over the white line meant to box each vehicle in, so I have space to drop my tailgate.
“Good afternoon, Evangeline.” Mr. Wharton, the high school principal says. “I’m on my way to your place now to buy a tree. Do you still have some?”
“Hi, Mr. Wharton. Of course we do. Dad is there. If not, I’ll be back after I drop these off for Mr. Whitaker.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you there soon.”
Before I even drop the tailgate, people ask me if the trees are for Whitaker’s. After I tell them they are, a group of them line up. Most of the people waiting are unfamiliar to me, which brings a smile to my face. I love that people are shopping with Mr. Whitaker. While he’ll never ask for help, we know he needs it. I make a note to see if Noelle can come up with a marketing plan for him.
I take a tree from the back, set it against the stand, and head into the store. Inside, Christmas music plays; it’s warm, and the scent of cinnamon from the baggedpine cones wafts through the air. After saying hi and moving around people, I stand at the end of the counter and wait for Mr. Whitaker to finish with a customer.
As soon as he says goodbye, he turns toward me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the difference in him already. His son is back, and as a result Mr. Whitaker’s normally dark bags under his eyes are gone, his cheeks are rosy, and his smile is bright. My heart soars for this man who has never done wrong in my eyes.
“I’m so glad you came,” he says to me as he walks over. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Are you going to tell me Zane’s back?”
His eyes show so much surprise. He nods slowly, unsurely. I take his hands, ones I considered frail until now. Now they seem strong, confident in the way they move around to grip mine.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve called you last night.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mr. Whitaker. I’m happy for you. It’s been a long time since Zane’s been home.”
“Yes, it is. This may be a Merry Christmas after all.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
Although, I’m not sure how I feel about Zane bringing his girlfriend to my house for Christmas dinner, assuming plans won’t change and Bernie is still intending on coming to the farm on Christmas day, as he’s always done. It’s something to discuss later. Right now, I want to be happy for Bernie.
“I’m sorry he brought his fiancée with him, though. I’ve always hoped . . .”
Whatever Mr. Whitaker says after fiancée is nothing more than muffled gibberish. How foolish of me to assume Caryn was his girlfriend. It never crossed my mind that they would be anything more. I never expected Zane to have a fiancée.
That is . . . wow.
I do my best to keep my expression normal. I nod when I think I’m supposed to nod and excuse myself to go stack his order of trees. Outside, I find Jake conducting tree business like he’s some conductor at a concert. I stand aside and let him sell the trees my dad works so hard to grow. He gives directions to the farm and tells the patrons about the other goods we sell, and how they can cut their own trees.
“Or come back in an hour and we’ll have more here,” he tells each one of them.
“We will?”
Jakes looks at me sheepishly.
“It’s good, Jake. I’ll make another run.” I turn and look at the door of Whitaker’s General Store. “You just keep taking care of Mr. Whitaker for me.”
“Of course, Eve.”
I honk as I pull away, rounding the corner and driving down the road until I can circle back around and stop by my office. If things were falling apart here, Noelle would have let me know. As soon as I walk in, I sigh at the warmth. It means the furnace is working and I’m not going to freeze to death tonight.
“Go grab lunch,” I tell her when she looks up. “I’ll cover for a bit.”
“You’re the best boss ever.”
“Yeah, yeah.”