2. Harrison #2
“We loved it when we were kids,” Harrison said. “They used to put Santa in the chimney on Christmas Eve.”
“They still do,” Mallory said, her eyes lighting up.
A lady came to the door and pushed it open, giving Mallory a smile and Harrison a slow once-over.
“Hey there,” she said. “How’s it going, Mallory? Who’s your friend?”
He tried not to grimace. Women were constantly looking at him that way, like he was tall and rugged for show, good for eye candy and nothing else.
“Hey, Anya,” Mallory said. “This is Harrison and his daughter Katie. I’m showing them around today.”
“Oh,” Anya said, turning back to him with interest. “Did you need help finding an apartment?”
“We already bought a house,” Harrison barked out too loudly, then snapped his mouth shut, forcing his face into a neutral expression. “We were just looking at the dollhouse.”
Stop being a stereotypical grumpy widower, he admonished himself, not for the first time. She’s only trying to help.
“It’s magical, isn’t it?” Anya said with a gentle smile. “Congrats on your new place. And if you need anything, feel free to call anytime. We keep lists of local contractors for anyone who needs them, not just our clients.”
“Thank you,” he said, feeling chagrined. “That’s really nice.”
Anya nodded to them and slipped back into the shop.
He wondered if Mallory would look at him differently after he’d been sharp with her friend.
“Have you two been over to the old Jones place yet?” she asked without a hint of resentment as they walked on.
“Not yet,” he told her, feeling the same little tingle of excitement he always did when he thought about it.
“I guess it’s your place now,” Mallory said with a smile. “Around here, we don’t seem to refer to a place as yours until you’ve sold it.”
“I remember,” he said with a smile, thinking back to the conversation when he’d told her he was buying the place. “Though Mr. and Mrs. Jones sold to a man called Radcliffe, and he sold it to me. So I guess it’s the Radcliffe place.”
“He doesn’t count,” Mallory said with a smile. “He didn’t own it long enough. So what are your plans?”
“Short-term, I’ll get to know the lay of the land and operations,” he told her. “Then I’m going to bring in more cows.”
“Very nice,” she said, nodding.
He’d told her some of this online, but it was nice to talk to her in person, to see her nod and send that bright ponytail dancing.
“Will you miss working with your dad?” she asked after a moment.
Back home, Harrison had worked a big corporate dairy farm with his father, who was the farm manager.
They’d spent their days working together Harrison’s whole adult life.
But when he had the opportunity to start his own place here, he’d figured he should go for it. And his dad had been super supportive.
He glanced over at Mallory again, impressed that as usual, she had zeroed right in on what made today the most bittersweet.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “But he wanted me to make this move. I think he gets a kick out of the idea that I’ll be working for myself, since he never had the opportunity.”
“That’s great,” Mallory said. “I know it will be a lot of work, but you already know what you’re doing.”
“Farming isn’t easy,” he allowed. “And I won’t have the resources of a bigger operation anymore. But what I’m building will be mine, and maybe Katie’s one day, if she’s interested.”
Katie didn’t react at all to his words.
He felt another twinge at the idea that there would only be Katie. He had always dreamed of a big family.
Maybe if she had a brother or sister, she wouldn’t disappear into herself like this…
But of course he’d promised himself that after Penny he would never marry again, so any chance of that was off the table.
“That’s our veterans center,” Mallory explained, pointing to a storefront with a sign that said Homecoming Heroes, and pulling Harrison out of his worries. “They’ve got a bigger office by the open-air market now, so I’m not sure how long this one will stay open. But in any case, it’s pretty new.”
“This is a good spot,” Harrison said. “They’ve got a view of the whole village.”
“Such as it is,” Mallory joked weakly. “It’s not much of a downtown, but it’s ours.”
“It has everything a kid could want,” Harrison said. “At least it did back when we used to visit.”
“It’s great for kids now too,” Mallory said, glancing over at Katie, who was walking along with her eyes fixed on the sidewalk in front of them. “Katie, what do you like to do when you’re not at school?”
Katie shrugged, her expression impassive.
“Well,” Mallory said, undaunted. “We’ve got a toy store, a bookstore, and a really good library here in town where they have tons of clubs and other activities. And there’s also a ballet school, if you like to dance, and plenty of sports clubs. There’s even a skating rink up on Route One.”
Katie nodded politely, but didn’t latch onto any of it.
To her credit, Mallory didn’t push. They walked on in friendly silence for a few minutes as the snow flurries swirled around them.
Harrison let himself forget the present and remember what it was like to race his brothers down Park Avenue while their mom shouted out for them to be careful on the icy sidewalks.
Life had been so much simpler then.
“Here we go,” Mallory said, indicating a sweet little cottage with a sign out front that said Carla’s Place.
“This was Carla Bell’s house,” he realized out loud. “Wasn’t it? Her grandkids lived with her. My Aunt Alice was telling me they had turned Carla’s house into something.”
“They sure did,” Mallory said, getting a funny look on her face and hurrying up the front walk without telling him exactly what it had been turned into.
Katie looked over her shoulder at her dad, as if to say, What’s her deal?
Harrison winked at his daughter, glad she had actually been paying attention, even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.
“Mal,” a couple of voices cried as Mallory let herself in the front door.
“I brought some leftovers,” Mallory said. “And some new friends.”
Harrison and Katie caught up, and he gestured for his daughter to go in first, but she predictably shook her head, so he stepped inside, trusting her to follow.
“Oh, you did it again,” an older gentleman said fondly, his eyes locked on the box Harrison was carrying.
“I always make too much,” Mallory said. “You never know when it’s going to get busy.”
She pointed to a short hallway and Harrison headed back to a cozy kitchen with a big pine table and pretty Christmas towels hanging on the rings by the sink and folded over the stove handle.
“Here we go,” Mallory said, patting the table.
Harrison set the box down and watched as Mallory swiftly unpacked it, with Katie hanging by his shoulder.
There were bakery boxes of fresh glazed doughnuts, bran muffins, and fruit pastries, as well as a couple of loaves of bread that looked like they had been pre-sliced, unlike the loaves in the display at the bakery.
“I try to bring different things every day,” she explained quietly. “That way hopefully everyone gets something they like.”
“I thought it was just leftovers,” Katie said.
Harrison turned to his daughter, surprised that she was engaging.
“It is,” Mallory said lightly. “But since I end up bringing my leftovers here most times, I try to have some variety when I’m making extra inventory.”
Katie narrowed her eyes, like she didn’t quite believe Mallory, but she didn’t say anything more. Mallory continued her work, grabbing trays from one of the cupboards.
To be fair, Harrison didn’t really believe her either. It was clear that Mallory had a soft spot for these folks. And based on their reaction to her, the feeling was mutual.
He’d been wondering why she had wanted to visit a place like this, but she’d obviously been planning to stop by anyway, and maybe she was hoping he’d want to volunteer too.
Between Katie and the farm, he knew he would barely have time to sleep. But maybe he could stop by now and then to help out with handiwork if there was a need.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” a pretty older lady in a pink blouse said, rolling up her sleeves as she headed in to help. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mallory. Do you see how she spoils us? I’m Mrs. Ying.”
But Harrison had no chance to answer or introduce himself, because the lady kept up a cheerful stream of conversation all by herself as she got out napkins and small plates and started the electric kettle for tea.
“How were the biscotti yesterday?” Mal asked.
“Absolutely scrumptious,” Mrs. Ying replied with a friendly smile. “Thank you for bringing us so many treats.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Mal said.
But for some reason, Harrison thought she looked a little disappointed.
“Would you like to help me carry everything out to the dining room table?” Mrs. Ying asked, holding out a tray of doughnuts to Katie and another of muffins to Harrison.
He was proud to see Katie take the tray and hurry out to deliver it. He followed her with his, much to the delight of the people out in the living and dining room area, who were already fussing over Katie.
Katie handled it better than he’d expected. She wasn’t exactly eating it up—she didn’t even smile. But she nodded and gave quiet answers to most of their questions. Harrison felt another burst of quiet pride in his chest as he headed back to the kitchen for the tray of fruit pastries.
“Now aren’t you glad that thoughtless boy is marrying the Rodman girl?” Mrs. Ying was saying in a very loud whisper. “You’ve got a much better fellow right here, and he’s so nice and tall.”
Harrison stopped in his tracks, not meaning to listen in, but genuinely wanting to hear what Mallory would say to that.
“Oh, he’s not… he’s just a friend,” she explained, sounding awfully flustered.
“Well, not for long, let’s hope,” Mrs. Ying said firmly. “A nice-looking man like that won’t stay single forever.”
“How do you know he’s single?” Mallory asked.
“No ring,” Mrs. Ying said indignantly. “You’ve got to pay attention to these things, Mal.”