Chapter 11
Elizabeth
CHRISTMAS TREE FARM
He smirks down at me, his stupid face with stupid stubble and an even more stupid chin.
“Well, if it makes you feel better…” He leans closer to me and I can smell his musky scent.
My hand itches to grab his jacket and pull him closer to me, to see if the kiss I remembered vaguely is as good as I think it is.
Or is it maybe going to be horrible and I won’t want to kiss him anymore.
“I would sacrifice myself and get naked with you if it meant keeping you warm.” I have imagined a bunch of words coming out of his mouth.
But I never in all my life imagined him saying that to me.
His words leave me in shock, my mouth hanging open, while other parts of me tighten, and if he wasn’t looking straight at me, I might even fucking shiver at his words.
“Your glasses.” His hand comes up to hold up my glasses. “Wouldn’t want you to trip.”
I snatch them out of his hand and hiss, “You better watch where you are going.” I try not to sound like I’m panting from his words.
“Hey, you guys,” Jack says, running to us, “have you found anything you like?”
“Does it look like we’ve found anything we like?” I ask him, putting my sunglasses on so I can stare at him without him actually knowing.
“Someone is grouchy today,” he notes, trying not to laugh.
“Today?” Nate says, shaking his head. “How long has she been in town? She got grouchy probably the day before she landed.” He puts his hands on his hips, his jacket unzipped, showing the beige knitted sweater under it. You can see how soft it is, and I find myself wanting to touch it.
“Long enough to be tired of being harassed every single morning about my nipples,” I hiss at him, and Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at Nate, who holds up his hands.
“Relax,” he placates. “I haven’t seen her nipples out in the open, but she wears thin shirts, so I see what I don’t want to see.”
I tilt my head to the side. “It’s good to know you don’t want to see them.”
“That isn’t what I said,” he defends his words.
“This looks like fun,” Evie interrupts, coming to stand next to Jack, “are you guys arguing over which tree you want?” She wraps her arms around Jack’s waist.
“No, baby,” Jack says softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him before he then leans down to kiss her. “It’s about Nate not wanting to see Elizabeth’s nipples.”
“Oh, will the two of you get a room already?” I urge, walking past them and over to the other displays of trees that are now in a row from smallest to biggest.
I walk down and in between the different rows, looking at the trees with him following me. “Why are you following me?” I look over my shoulder.
“I’m following you because we are going to be getting one tree,” he tells me, “and we are going to agree on which one to get.”
“And I’m going to be the one to cut it down,” I declare, stopping at one that isn’t too tall but is full, and I run my hand over the pine needles.
“If you think you can cut down a tree”—his tone is condescending—“then I will watch you cut down a tree.”
“Oh, I’m going to cut it down all right,” I assure, “and it’s going to be this one.”
“Really?” he asks, walking around it. “This is the one you like out of all of them?”
I look at the tree again, second-guessing my choice as he walks to the one beside it and then the one next to it. “You didn’t even see them all.” He looks around some more.
“What is wrong with this one?” I ask him and he comes back.
“Absolutely nothing, but I don’t want you to argue with me later that we should have taken another one.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I want this one”—I point to the tree—“and I want to cut it down.” I look around and then spot a guy on a tractor with a red wagon behind it. I wave my hand in the air to flag him down and he comes over to us.
“Did you find the tree?” he asks, coming off the tractor and looking at the tree we are in front of. “This is a good one,” he says, “lots of green needles.”
“Yes.” I admire the tree I chose. “This is the one,” I tell him, “and I want to cut it down myself.”
He smiles at me, his white hair shining in the sunlight. If his beard was longer, he could pass for a Santa. “The lady is cutting down her own tree?”
“I’m also a doctor,” I inform him. “I did surgery rotation for a full six months.”
“Because cutting into flesh is the same thing as cutting into wood?” Nate asks me and I take off my glasses so he can see my glare.
The man walks over to the wagon and I’m expecting him to come back with a chainsaw or something along that line. What I’m not expecting is for him to come to me with a metal saw with a wooden top and a green metal handle. “Here you go, girlie”—he hands me the saw—“have at it.”
“Um,” I say, grabbing the saw from him by the handle and looking down at it and then back at Nate, who is smirking at me, and I know that I’m not going to let him win.
“Okay,” I say, getting on my knees, then lying on my back to see the bottom of the tree.
It’s a lot thicker than I thought it would be.
Nate comes over and squats down beside me. “So what are you thinking?” he asks me, and I can feel the wetness from the snow seeping into my black yoga pants.
“I’m thinking you shouldn’t be poking the bear,” I snap, “when the bear is holding a saw in her hand.”
“Um,” the guy says from behind Nate. “Not wanting to poke the bear”—he holds up his hand—“but I have a tarp in my wagon that we can put down so you aren’t soaking wet.”
“I will take the tarp,” I agree, moving to a sitting position, which just makes my ass even wetter.
As he walks over to the back of his tractor, he takes out a folded beige tarp.
“Here you go, young lady.” He hands me the tarp and I get up to grab it from him, putting the saw down on the ground and then unfolding the tarp.
“That is better,” I state, looking down at the tarp and then getting on my knees and reaching over to grab the saw.
“Um,” the guy starts again. “If you want, I have a pair of gloves,” he offers to me, taking a pair of work gloves out of his back pocket.
“Thank you.” I reach for the yellow gloves. “See? He’s helpful, unlike you, who didn’t even try to help.”
“I offered you my gloves when you got here,” Nate defends himself, then looks at the guy. “I offered her my gloves.”
He stands back and tries to not laugh at him.
“Okay.” I put on the worn yellow gloves.
“Here we go,” I declare, getting on my stomach and then moving the bottom branches of the tree out of the way and they bounce back and smack me in the face.
“Motherfucker,” I swear at the sting of the branches making my face burn.
I place the saw across the trunk of the tree and start moving it back and forth.
I move the saw back and forth for what feels like an eternity. A fucking eternity, and my breathing is coming in pants as I move it back and forth.
“If you want,” Nate offers, “I can take over.” I blow the hair out of my face. “Just saying, I could do my part.”
“I’m fine,” I assure, feeling the sweat rolling down my back from exertion and the cashmere sweater I’m wearing.
“Sometimes, the tree can bind the saw,” he says as I huff out, and it feels like I’m running full steam ahead down a road that goes on forever.
“Well, how do we stop that?” I ask him, trying not to show how exhausted I am. “Are you going to give me another saw?”
“No.” He chuckles. “It means the trunk is pressing into the blade.”
“And how do we remedy this?” I ask, the saw stuck in the trunk.
“I’ll hold the trunk and pull it back,” he explains. “Usually it’s the helper who does this.”
I look at Nate, who is just watching me. “My helper is broken,” I huff out as I continue cutting down the tree. “Where do I find another one?”
“I can hold it,” Nate says to him and stands beside him as he holds the tree.
The saw goes in easily now as I push through the rest, by the end of it my arms feel like they are on fire.
The tree starts to fall to the side and I look up at the two men.
“I told you I could do it.” I drop the saw on the snow and then get up on my knees. “And you said I couldn’t.”
“No one said that,” Nate refutes, trying not to smirk at me as he looks down at the tree with his hands on his hips.
“What you can do,” the man says to us, “is cut the dead branches on the bottom. It will make putting it in its stand easier once you get home.”
“Stand?” Nate asks. “It doesn’t come with a stand?”
“No, sir”—he shakes his head—“but you can buy one inside.”
“I have to do everything.” I get up on my feet and hand him back his gloves. “Why don’t you clean it up a little bit, and I’ll go and buy the stand.”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Here.” He tosses me his wallet and not just his card.
I catch his wallet in my hand as he walks over and bends down to take the saw. “What do you want me to do with this?”
“Pay for the things,” he explains. “The PIN is my birthday.”
“You know you aren’t supposed to tell anyone your PIN,” I remind him.
“You aren’t anyone,” he states, squatting down and sawing off the pieces of wood without breaking a sweat.
“Yeah, you got the easy part,” I tell him and turn with a huff to start to walk back to the cabin.
“Hey,” I say, walking in and seeing my parents there with my aunts and uncle.
“Honey,” my mother says, coming to me, “you have tree needles all over your hair.” I pull the hat off of my head and shake it. “Did you fall into a tree?”
“No.” I snort. “I was cutting down my tree.”
She gasps, “What? There was a guy going around doing it for you.”
“Yes, but I wanted to do it myself”—I dust myself off—“and I did.”
“You were always so independent.” She puts her hand on my cheek. “Never wanted me to do anything for you.” She blinks away tears in her eyes. “So much so, you moved halfway across the world.”
“Well, to be fair, that is where my job is,” I remind her and she shakes her head.
“You can work anywhere and you know it.” The words hit me to the core for the first time.
“I have to pay for the tree,” I segue, my mind twirling around and around. I step up to the cash register and look at the woman. “I need a stand for my tree.”
“They are all on that side.” She points to the wall and I walk over to the side. I’m starting to pick one when I feel Nate beside me.
“What is taking you so long?” he huffs out and I see his jacket is now zipped.
“I was talking to my mother, and now I am deciding what kind of stand I want.”
“Just take any one,” he urges, picking up the first one that is on his side.
“What about decorations?” I ask him, looking around at all of the trees decorated. “Do you have decorations?”
“I do,” he says softly. “I have the ones from Grandma and Grandpa,” he mentions the grandparents he moved in with after his parents were killed in a car accident when he was sixteen.
They were coming home from an evening out when they were hit by a drunk driver.
They died on impact and the driver died the day after.
His grandfather passed away when he was eighteen and then his grandmother a year later.
It’s why he’s so close to my family, they practically took him in when his parents died.
He sometimes would be over at our house every single day.
It would be a rare day when he wasn’t having dinner with us.
I think it was then I fell in love with Nate, but that was before he broke my heart.
“Do you have enough?” My voice gets soft, and he just nods his head.
“I have lots of ones from my childhood.” He looks around. “But if you see something else you want. Just get it.”
“No,” I reply, smiling at him, “I think it’ll be perfect.”
“Did you pay?” he asks me and I shake my head, and he holds out his hand for his wallet.
“What were you doing this whole time while I was putting the tree in the truck?” His voice is tight, and the soft moment is gone. I know I should handle him with a little bit of care since it probably brought up sad memories for him. I can’t even imagine what it must be like.
“You put the tree in the truck already?” I ask him, shocked.
“Yeah,” he huffs out, “you did the easy work.”
“Easy work?” I hiss out. “I will have you know that I about killed myself cutting down the fucking tree.”
He hands the girl his credit card and she smiles at us. “You did that yourself.” He points at me. “You could have let me help, but noooo, she had to do it herself.” He looks around. “You know it’s okay to not be the best at everything.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I’ll let you know when I find something I’m not the best at.” I grab the stand from the counter. “Thank you and have a blessed day.”