Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
OLIVE
W e’re about to leave Brant’s home office on the main floor of the old farmhouse when Liam says, “Wait, Olive?”
I turn back. “Yeah?”
“Let’s not tell anyone about this yet.”
I level his gaze. “We aren’t very good at keeping secrets. Your mom saw us kissing.”
He laughs. “She has eyes everywhere.”
I wrap my arms around him. “I won’t say anything. It’s not my news to share.”
“I just—” he sighs— “I don’t want to get Lacey’s hopes up. This changes things . . .but it doesn’t change everything .”
“Right.” I nod. “You’ve changed your mind about your job, but not about the farm.”
He gives me a soft shrug. “There’s a lot to consider.”
I try to cover my disappointment with one forceful nod.
He kisses my forehead, and I lean into him a little longer than I should.I want to give him my list of reasons he should run Pine Creek with Lacey, but I don’t. Because he still has dreams and things he wants to do. The game we worked so hard on to design.
And I’d never ask him to give that up.
He’s not going back to Indy, but that doesn’t mean he’s moving back home. Remember that, Olive. Where we’re concerned, nothing’s changed.
We’re still on borrowed time.
We walk into the kitchen and find Jo wrapping Christmas gifts on the counter.
“Oh, should Liam not come in here?” I ask, covering his eyes.
“It’s fine,” Jo says. “These are for a Pine Creek angel family.”
Liam and I each sit in a stool across the counter from her. There’s a big box of new toys on the floor next to her, along with some clothes, three shoeboxes, and another box behind her that I can’t see inside of.
“You guys still do that?” Liam asks.
“Oh, yes!” She beams. “We haven’t missed a year since we took over.” She walks over to the built-in desk and pulls a big envelope out of the drawer. She hands it to Liam.
“I haven’t heard about this,” I say.
“We don’t advertise it.” Jo walks back to the half-wrapped gift.
Inside the envelope, there are countless handwritten notes and letters and cards. Liam and I flip through the notes, all thanking “Mr. B and Jo.”
He explains it to me. “Every year, Mom and Dad quietly put out feelers to find families in need, then supply them with a full Christmas spread—dinner, gifts, a tree, the works.”
Jo pulls a piece of tape from the dispenser and sticks it on the box to secure the paper, while my eyes scan the letters—heartfelt, overwhelmed, grateful people—every single one so blessed by something Liam’s parents do without anyone knowing.
I take out a small, folded piece of paper with a kid’s drawing of a tricycle on the front and the words “Thank You” in large, blocky letters.
“I keep them right here in the kitchen, and whenever things start to feel really hard, I take them out and read them. Partly because it reminds me that no matter how difficult things get, some people would love to have what we have. But also it reminds me that even in our most challenging times, we can find ways to help other people. It’s the Pine Creek way.” She yanks at the tape and finds herself at the end of the roll. “Well, shoot. I’ve got more in my room. Be right back.”
After she’s gone, I look at Liam, who’s holding a folded sheet of paper a lot like the one in my hands. “What are you thinking?”
He sets the handmade card back on the pile. “Just that there’s no way this Warner guy is going to do right by the people of this community.” He sighs. “I’m not sure we can match his offer though.”
I fill in the blanks and come to the conclusion that “this Warner guy” is Travis’s buyer, a man Liam has told me almost nothing about, but who, I can already tell, is not someone any of us want to associate with.
I cover his hand with mine. “But look at the legacy they’re leaving behind. I mean, maybe things are changing, but your parents aren’t. I bet they do this for families in Colorado too, or wherever they end up.”
He nods. “I know. But it won’t feel the same. Or right.”
Jo returns with another roll of tape. “Do you guys want to help me wrap?”
I stand. “I’d love to.”
She smiles.
Liam doesn’t. “I have a few things I need to take care of if it’s okay with you, Ma?”
“Of course.”
He looks at me. “Catch up later for dinner? ”
“I’m having dinner with Lacey and Phoebe.” I smile sweetly. “We’re going to talk about you the entire time.”
“Don’t tell me you’re becoming friends with my sister.” He grumbles, and he reminds me of a grumpy, old man.
“Oh, it’s a done deal,” I say. “I got her a best friend’s necklace for Christmas.”
Jo laughs.
Liam shakes his head. He kisses me on the cheek, then starts to go. I follow after him, just out of Jo’s earshot, and ask, “You okay?” Because what if he’s having second thoughts about quitting his job?
He smiles. “I’m good. But you don’t get to be nosy at Christmas.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you going shopping?!”
He kisses me. It feels comforting and familiar, but entirely new all at the same time.
“Okay, love you!” I turn around and freeze, realizing too late what I’ve just said. I cringe so big he can probably tell just by looking at the back of my head. I close my eyes and take a step—hoping we’re going to pretend I didn’t just say that—but before I can make another move, he says my name. I slowly turn back, the cringe still evident on my face.
I smile. It’s awkward. “Sorry—I . . . it just slipped . . .”
“Love you too.” His eyes pin me in place, and my pulse quickens.
“You do?” I whisper.
“Always have,” he says.
I press my lips together and do a little curtsy, because my embarrassment turned my face into a hot ball of fire, and I don’t know how to walk back into the kitchen gracefully.
I resist the urge to kiss him again, instead choosing to plaster on a smile and walk back into the kitchen.
Jo is smiling, but she doesn’t look at me. I hold back my own smile, pick up a Barbie doll and start wrapping, thinking that this might be the happiest I’ve ever been.
The busyness of the season winds down. Liam and I help deliver the angel gifts to a single mom and her four kids. I haul in wrapped presents, many of which are necessities like school supplies and new shoes, while Liam and his dad set up a small Christmas tree in the window.
A young boy watches as Liam pulls presents from the box and puts them under the tree. One gift, clearly a skateboard, catches the kid’s eye. Liam looks at the tag on the gift. “Are you Noah?”
The boy nods.
“Looks like Santa did right by you this year.” He tucks it under the tree, and the kid jumps up to help with the rest of the gifts. “Is there one for Sadie?”
Liam searches the box as I carry another box over to where they’re kneeling. “Looks like there are a few for Sadie.” He picks one up and hands it to Noah.
Noah shakes the box, then whispers, “Do you think that’s a Barbie?”
Liam glances at me, then back to Noah. “I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.”
“Sadie!” Noah calls out. “You’re getting presents!”
Jo is going over cooking instructions with the young mom, who’s bouncing a baby on her hip. The house is small and sparse, and Lacey is filling it with twinkle lights and a few well-placed Christmas decorations.
The mom offers us all a hot cup of wassail, telling us it’s a family favorite that she makes every year, which we’re all happy to try.
I make a note, because this warm, apple-y, cinnamon-y, spice-y goodness is so tasty. I wish we’d found it sooner—it would’ve been a great addition to the Christmas menu in the café.
We spend about an hour chatting and hearing her story, and then, when it’s time to go, Noah tugs on Liam’s sleeve. Liam kneels and Noah whispers something in his ear.
Liam’s eyes go wide, and then he presses an index finger over his lips. “Our secret.”
Noah winks over-dramatically, and I smile. How someone who initially seems as grumpy as Liam comes across can be this good with kids is a mystery to me.
But everything about my life lately has been a surprise. A surprise I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Once we’re in the truck headed for my house, I scoot over so my thigh is pressed against Liam’s. It’s how two high schoolers might ride in a pickup truck on the day he asked her to be his girlfriend, but I don’t care.
He drapes his right arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. We drive like this for a few minutes, and then I whisper, “What was the secret?”
I don’t have to look at Liam to know he’s smiling. “Sadie got her Barbie.”
I sit up. “How does he know?”
“He opened the end of the present, then stuck the tape back on.” He chuckles to himself. “Good kids.”
“Really good.” I don’t say so, but it was nice not to think about Pine Creek or the sale or our last Christmas or where Liam’s going to move or what’s going to happen with us for a little while. It was nice to set all my problems aside and bless someone else.
I decide at that moment that even if Pine Creek no longer exists, this tradition can carry on.
I’ll make sure of it.