Page 30 of This Christmas
“Oh, don’t be silly. They want to see your beautifully decorated tree.”
“Putting strings of lights on a tree doesn’t make it beautiful,” I tell him as I park in our designated space. “The person charged with lighting it does.”
“Evangeline, you sure know how to make an old man feel special.”
“Pfft, you’re not old.” I get out and go to his side. “Now, come onold man. Let’s go light a tree.”
Mr. Whitaker laughs hard. Within seconds, he has tears falling from his eyes and he’s holding onto his side. “You’re a funny one.”
“Yep, I’m a laugh a minute.”
Zane rushes over to us, out of breath. I expect to see Caryn with him, but he’s alone. The nosy person in me wants to ask where she is, but the realist doesn’t want to be involved. It’s none of my business.
Our Mayor, Ms. Jordyn Obermen, steps to the podium. “Good evening, friends and family of Deer Ridge. I thank you all for coming out on this fine, calm night. Don’t forget we have the food trucks in the parking lot serving pizza, nachos, and of course, Reindeer Ridge’s finest hot cocoa.”
Applause rings out because who doesn’t love food.
“Each year, you’re asked to nominate the person who you believe exudes the spirit of which Deer Ridge stands for. This person must be active in our community. This person helps others before themselves. They’re kind, trustworthy, and have our lovely town’s best interest at heart. We thank you for taking the time to send in your nominations. Like with past years, each name went into the ballot, and you voted. It’s with distinct honor and pleasure, I give you this year’s Grand Marshal of the Deer Ridge annual tree lighting festival, Mr. Bernard Whitaker.”
I pat Mr. Whitaker on the back and hand him over to Zane. They walk to the podium together while I sneak behind them. I promised this tree would light and I’m not going to let him down.
“On the count of three, Bernie. Are you ready?” Mayor Obermen asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She holds her finger up and everyone starts counting. “One, two, three.”
Like magic, as soon as Bernie presses the button, the tree lights up. At the top is a yellow star. Everyone claps and then they move forward to congratulate him on the honor. His duties aren’t done, though. Next, he’ll have to make an appearance at the kids’ Christmas party with Santa.
For the next hour or so, I stay in the shadows, watching. Zane smiles, he laughs, and never leaves his dad’s side. Notably absent is Caryn. I’m not one to speculate; I’m sure she has a valid reason for missing the event.
Later, as people leave, I walk around and pick up trash that somehow didn’t make it into the garbage cans.
“It’s a nice night out.”
Zane’s voice startles me. I place my hand over my rapidly beating heart and take a couple deep inhales.
“It is. Where’s your dad?” I say as I look around.
“Out to dinner with your parents.”
“Good for them.”
“Care to join them?” He motions toward the parking lot.
“Nah, I think I’m going to head home. My soaking tub and I have a reservation.”
“Lucky tub,” Zane says with a smile. He looks off into the distance and then back at me.
Do not linger.
Get inyour truck.
Go home.
“I’ll see ya later, Zane.” I turn away from him.
“Eve.” He says my name with such softness it makes my heart thump with anticipation.