Chapter 5
Toby
“Are you sure we’ve seen all the patients for the day?” I asked.
Brandy looked up from the desk, patience filling her eyes. “You’ve seen them all. There will be more tomorrow.”
“No one called in for any last-minute emergencies or appointments?” I pressed.
“If they had, I would have put them on the schedule,” she sang, returning to what she was doing.
“It’s so weird to be done with work before the sun sets,” I murmured, gazing out the window at the not-dark sky. It was dim, though, having been gray all day, and with the sun setting around four thirty, it wouldn’t be light much longer.
“Tell me you’re a workaholic without telling me,” she mused and waved a piece of paper in front of me.
“What is that?”
“Tomorrow’s list of patients.”
Brightening, I went to snatch it, but she pulled it back before I could get my greedy hands on it.
“Hey,” I admonished. “Didn’t you print that for me?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t print it for me.”
I made grabby hands at it, and she tsked. “I’ll give this to you on one condition.”
“I’m listening,” I said, resting my elbow on the check-in counter and propping my chin in my hand.
“You cannot use this as an excuse to stay late and read through every file of the patients you’re seeing tomorrow.”
I made a face. “Then what’s the point of even giving it to me?”
“Because I know you like to be prepared.”
I reached for it again, but she pulled it away, saying, “But there is a difference between being prepared and using work as an excuse.”
“An excuse for what?”
“For not going to the bonfire with your bestie.”
Oooh, call me intrigued. “What is this bonfire you speak of?”
“One of Winterbury’s newest holiday traditions.”
“Because the eighty-five we have aren’t enough?” I inquired.
She smacked me with tomorrow’s schedule. “There’s always room for more holiday fun!”
I took the paper and ran my eyes over it, noting there were five appointments just like today.
“Is every day like this?” I asked. “Was today not a light day?”
Brandy shrugged. “It was a pretty typical day. Some days are a little busier, though.”
“What do you do with all your free time?” I murmured, still not quite grasping this work-life balance thing that seemed to be going on here. Frankly, I wondered why my father needed a vacation because I was used to working twice this in a single day.
Maybe I was a workaholic. So you can avoid life.
“Tonight, I’m going to the bonfire, and you’re coming with.” Brandy informed me, standing from her desk and pushing the chair beneath it.
“Oh, you’re going to the bonfire?” Brett asked, coming out front from the back. “I’m heading there after work too. Promised my dad I’d help harvest the mistletoe for tomorrow’s raising.”
I paused, eyes flying to Brandy who was actively avoiding my penetrating glare.
“And pray tell, where is this new traditional bonfire held?” I asked Brett. Clearly, Brandy was attempting to withhold need-to-know information.
“Hodge Farm,” Brett replied.
“You don’t say,” I mused.
Brandy threw her arms up like she was admitting defeat.
Brett looked between us and then back at me. “You haven’t been?” he questioned.
“To Hodge Farm? Yes. The bonfire, no. It seems to be a tradition that started after I moved to Boston.”
“Oh, come on, Toby. It will be so fun. The whole town practically turns out.”
“To a bonfire?” I was skeptical. I failed to see how burning wood in my enemy’s yard could be fun and also why the entire town wanted to do it.
I mean, I was all for setting something of Archer’s on fire, but something told me that would only be fun for me.
“It’s not just any old bonfire. It’s a yuletide bonfire,” she emphasized.
“Oh. Well, that changes everything,” I amended.
It, in fact, changed nothing.
Brandy made a face. “We roast marshmallows, drink hot chocolate, and pour warm maple syrup over the snow for sugared snow. They expanded the gift shop with a beautiful display of trees and trinkets. There’s even a bakery now with desserts and apple crumble.”
“This year, they’re having live music,” Brett put in. “And of course, people will be getting their Christmas trees.”
Brandy nodded. “A lot of people get them the night of the bonfire and let them fluff out overnight and then decorate them when they get home from the mistletoe raising and town tree lighting.”
“Isn’t it kinda late in the season for that?” I observed, knowing full well it wasn’t.
“Have you been in Boston so long that you forgot fresh trees don’t last nearly as long as the fake ones?” Brandy admonished.
“Don’t smell as good either,” Brett added.
Yeah, well, I could get a fake one at a big box store and not be reminded of my painful past while doing so—and then go over to aisle fourteen for shampoo. You can’t do that at a tree farm, now can you?
“The answer is no,” I said, grabbing tomorrow’s schedule and holding it against my chest so she couldn’t steal it back.
Brandy groaned. “Pleaasseeee, Tobes. You probably won’t even see him. He’s too busy running the place. He’s never that social anyway.”
I drew back. “Since when?” I questioned.
Growing up, Archer was always Mr. Popularity. He played football, was in like three different after-school clubs, and later worked at the town grocer as a bag boy. All the ladies loved him because he carried their bags to their cars.
“Since forever. He’s grown the farm a lot in the past few years. He hardly ever comes to town. He’s a workaholic just like you.”
“I guess today was my lucky day,” I muttered, thinking of before when Ms. Keystone mentioned how much tourism Archer had brought to town with the farm. Maybe the yuletide bonfire was one of the ways he was doing that.
“So, like, what happened between you guys?” Brett wondered, and honestly, I’d forgotten he was there.
“What?” I asked, feeling like a deer in headlights.
“Everyone seems to know you two don’t get along, but no one ever really says why.”
“Because nothing really happened.” I lied. “We grew apart. Kids do that sometimes.”
I was saved from being questioned even more when the front door opened and a burst of cold winter air announced a visitor.
I brightened, hoping it was a last-minute walk-in and I could go back to work and not think about bonfires or Archer or anything to do with Christmas.
“Oh, good! I made it in time,” a very familiar voice called as I was turning. “I was worried you’d already be locked up for the day.”
“Mom,” I said, taking in her long wool coat with gold buttons, wind-blown blond hair, and gloved hands holding her beloved chihuahua against her chest. Teacup was tan with short hair and large brown eyes.
Her ears were bigger than her face, and she was wearing a pink Christmas sweater with a gingerbread man on the back.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to come to see how your first day at the clinic went. Your father tried to come as well, but I told him taking a break from work did not mean coming in here to see how you were running the place.”
“Well, it is his clinic,” I allowed. It was probably killing him that he wasn’t here to see how it was going.
“And I can tell it’s being taken care of just fine,” she said, glancing around. “Oh. Where is the Christmas tree?” she asked, scanning the room as if she’d missed it. “And why wasn’t there a wreath on the door?”
“Dr. Thomas said there was no need for them this year since he was taking time off,” Brandy replied.
“Ugh, that man! Always trying to cut costs. But you can’t put a price on Christmas spirit. I should have come by sooner. I’d have taken care of it. But I’ve been so busy getting ready for Toby’s arrival.”
I really wondered what she had to do to get ready for me. My room was still the same as when I moved out, and it wasn’t like I required anything special. I mean, I could see maybe a trip to the grocer, but that could be done in one afternoon.
“Don’t worry about it, Mom,” I said. “A tree isn’t essential to good veterinary care. You can put one up next year.” Never mind that when I arrived, I’d also been a little put off by the lack of decorations around here.
Mom gasped as if I’d broken her favorite holiday ornament. “Animals like Christmas spirit too.”
As if to agree, Teacup gave a little growl.
“Just listen to her, Tobias. She’s positively depressed that there’s not one ornament or bow to be found here.”
I glanced at Teacup, who was positively suffering in her pink sweater and my mother’s arms. As I stared, Mom reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small treat. Teacup ate it in one bite.
“I know!” Brandy announced. “You can pick up a tree and a wreath for the clinic at the bonfire tonight. We can decorate it tomorrow between patients.”
Mom gasped again. She was a gasper. “That’s the perfect idea! I had no idea you were planning to attend tonight, Toby.”
“I’m not,” I deadpanned.
“Just wait until you see how much the farm has grown. It’s just beautiful.” She went on as though I didn’t even speak.
“You and Dad are going?” I questioned.
“Of course,” she said. “We’ve been there every year since Archer started the tradition.”
If we talked about Archer any more, I was going to hurl myself into his fun, amazing, and traditional bonfire.
“Great. Then you and Dad can pick up a tree and wreath,” I said. Look at me being a problem solver. I held up the schedule, waving it around. “I have client files to go over.”
“Oh, please. You’ve known these people all your life.”
“But their pets are new,” I pointed out.
Mom waved away my words. “You can go over them in the morning.” To Brandy, she said, “Do you know he wakes up before the sun?”
“He’s a workaholic,” Brandy told her like it was some official diagnosis.
Mom made a sound of agreement. “And I thought George was bad.”
I glanced at Brett for help.
“Don’t look at me. My dad is making me harvest mistletoe with him. In the dark.”
“That’s a town tradition too,” Mom told him. “And if you go now, you’ll get there before the sun is completely set.”