Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Luke
By the time I got back to the farm and replaced the belt on the riding mower so it was ready for tomorrow’s final orchard mow of the season, I was nearly an hour late for dinner.
This was the one night I hadn’t wanted to be late, as Addie was calling it daddy-daughter date night.
I jogged through the rain from the large-equipment outbuilding toward the house, beyond exhausted.
The day had been extra busy as we transitioned from putting the orchard to bed for the winter and gearing up for the holiday onslaught Christmas-tree season would bring.
The morning was spent removing any diseased pine trees before the infestation could spread.
I’d split the afternoon between helping Scotty repair some of the deer fencing, teaching Gage to maintain the roads the public would use to access the tree farm this year—and now possibly weddings—and squeezing in one more interview to round out our seasonal crew.
The trip to town for errands was supposed to be short and sweet, but then I’d made the mistake of delivering that check to Magnolia in person. Had I known the bombshells she would drop, I would’ve figured out how to pay her electronically.
I hadn’t had the opportunity to think through anything she’d told me, as I’d rushed home and immediately immersed myself in the mower repair, but the weight of what she’d explained pressed down on me.
Later. I’d allow those thoughts in much later, when the day was over and my little girl was tucked in for the night.
I opened the back door to the house and was instantly hit by two things—the mouthwatering aroma of tacos and my daughter coming at me full speed.
“Daddy!” She hugged me around the waist before I could take my wet flannel shirt off.
“Hey, doodlebug, you’re going to get drenched.”
I bent down and hugged her tightly anyway, laughing at her giggles because she was indeed not staying dry.
“We waited for you. Pops said the taco meat is gonna be dried out, but I don’t care.”
“You haven’t eaten yet?” I asked as I peeled the wet outer layer off and hung it on a hook. Layer number two, a thick Henley, was also damp.
“It’s daddy-daughter date night, silly,” she said. “And Pops too, but just for dinner because he doesn’t like The Little Mermaid.”
“It was fine the first four or five times,” my dad said from the kitchen.
Addie had seen it probably twenty times and knew all the songs by heart plus half the dialogue. I was just in it for her and would need to work to stay awake during our date. I’d also need to work not to let my mind go to Magnolia and all that business.
“Thanks for holding dinner,” I told my dad as Addie and I walked into the kitchen.
“We waited until you got home to start cooking,” my dad said. “At your daughter’s insistence.”
I knew that was true. Though my dad had spent his life being the one who was late to dinner due to chores that made for extra-long days, now he was devoted to his role as Addie’s main caretaker.
He sometimes forgot what it was like out there hustling to get everything done, because he was caught up in here, practicing spelling words and addition problems, monitoring screen time, and keeping Addie busy in between it all.
As irritating as my dad could be about the barn, he was a godsend when it came to my daughter.
“I need three minutes to shower,” I said to my dad. “And Addie, how about you change into a dry shirt. Or better yet, pj’s and we can make it a pajama party.”
My daughter skipped off singing one of the Mermaid songs, and I headed for my bathroom.
Five minutes later, I returned to the kitchen.
“What can I do?” I asked my dad.
He turned around with a large bowl of taco meat, and I carried it to the table. Bowls of chopped onions, tomatoes, avocados, cheese, and salsa were already set out, and plates were waiting.
“Did you set the table for Pops?” I asked Addie as we all sat down.
“Mm-hmm, it’s my job.”
“She also helped with the salsa and the cheese,” my dad said as he passed me the tortillas.
“You’re a great dinner assistant,” I told my daughter. “How was school today?”
I listened to Addie’s tales of her school day, from one of the kids getting in trouble for purposely saying words wrong during read-aloud to a Halloween-themed scavenger hunt and the substitute bus driver who brought her home.
“Why were you so late today, Daddy?”
“My errands in town ran longer than I thought they would,” I told her.
“What errands did you do?” she asked as I refilled my plate.
“Well, I went to my bank appointment to finalize financing for the barn, stopped by the farm store, picked up a few items at the Country Market, then dropped off a check for the wedding planner.”
“Are you getting married?” she asked, her eyes wide as she held her taco up, ready for her next bite.
I laughed. “No. Who would I be getting married to?”
Addie shrugged as my dad shook his head. I was sure that was directed at me somehow, and then he confirmed it.
“If you’d drop this barn nonsense, you could’ve been here on time,” he said.
“That barn nonsense is going to make a difference to the bottom line,” I told him, keeping my voice as even as I could.
“What barn nonsense?” Addie asked.
“Remember I told you we’re turning the barn into a place where people can have their weddings?” I said.
“Oh, yeah.”
My dad shook his head again, and I did my best to ignore him.
“Mr. West and Miss Presley are getting married in our barn on Christmas Eve,” I told Addie. “Mr. West is helping me build walls next week, so I’ll probably miss dinner every night.”
“Can I help?” she asked.
“It’s pretty heavy work. Are you ready to learn how to use a hammer?”
“Yes!”
“One day we’ll show you how we build walls, and then maybe when it’s time to decorate the barn, you can help with that too.”
“For the wedding?”
“You never know. That’s a long way off, and I’ve got a lot of work before it.”
“During our biggest season of the year, no less,” my dad mumbled.
“Pops, why are you being so grouchy?” Addie asked.
I eyed my dad, waiting for him to answer his granddaughter. He finished a bite of food first.
“This is a working farm, sweets,” he said as he helped himself to more tacos. “A busy one with three harvest seasons.”
“Strawberries, apples, and Christmas trees,” Addie said, her voice going gleeful when she got to her favorite, the trees.
“That’s right. It’s a lot of work,” my dad continued. “Adding weddings in the barn will be even more work. There’s nothing wrong with hard work. That’s what we do on a farm. But your daddy should be focusing on his crops, not chasing some modern trend that’ll die out in a year or two.”
“Barn weddings aren’t going to die out,” I said. “People will always get married, and they’ll always need venues. Besides, we hope to host other events too, like family reunions, corporate parties, private parties, whatever people need room for.”
“Weddings will be my favorite,” my daughter declared. “Just like in The Little Mermaid. I can’t wait!”
Though it worried me to find out from Magnolia about at least two competitors in the area, it also told me this was a viable endeavor.
“That old barn is a piece of history,” I told my dad, even though I knew everything I said would likely fall on deaf ears again. “And it’s a stunning piece of architecture inside. We can use it to store random crap in, or we can make it a revenue stream. To me it’s a no-brainer.”
No-brainer was an exaggeration; I’d overthought the hell out of it, weighed the pros and cons for months. But now that I’d committed, I was all in. His gritching about it was a waste of time.
“That ‘revenue stream’ could well go in the negative and turn into nothing but an expense. There’s no guarantees.”
“There aren’t, but at least for this one we’re not depending on the weather for our livelihood,” I pointed out. “I’m already taking steps to get the word out. Telling everyone I know, meeting with a marketing person, making connections with event planners.”
“I thought you didn’t like the James girl.”
“That’s neither here nor there now,” I said, conscious of my daughter’s listening. “I’m working with her.”
I took a drink of water, sorting through what Magnolia had told me today. I couldn’t say I liked her, but I certainly had more empathy for her at the very least. I debated whether I could say more while respecting Magnolia’s privacy.
I set my glass down harder than intended at that thought.
Since when had I respected anything to do with Magnolia James?
Not since I was a teenage boy with a crush.
But considering what I’d learned today about her horrible home life growing up, I realized I was beginning to see her in a different light.
I elected to keep it to myself and changed the subject. Once dinner was over and Addie and I had cleaned the kitchen, she zipped off to get the movie, her plushies, and her blanket ready.
My dad slowly stood. “Going to my room for a show. Night, son.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stay awake for round one hundred seventy-two of The Little Mermaid. I did my best to hide it though, rousing enough to respond to Addie’s comments when they called for it. Mostly she snuggled up beside me and recited the movie.
This was comfortably familiar. Sitting with her in our cozy family room in the otherwise quiet house was soothing. I was content to listen to her sweet voice and used it to avoid deeper thoughts that weren’t at all soothing.
When the movie was over, I cleaned up our popcorn mess while she got ready for bed. I went into her room to tuck her in and found her in bed but dressing her Barbie doll in her wedding gown.
“It’s time for lights out, bug,” I told her.
“I’m almost done. Barbie’s having a wedding tomorrow.”
“Shouldn’t she wait until tomorrow to put on her wedding dress?”
Addie shook her head, focused on her task. “She doesn’t want to miss the wedding.”
I summoned my patience while she finished. I held out my hand for the doll.
“I need to put her in her bed. Tomorrow’s a big day for her,” Addie said, scampering over to her Barbie condo.
I bit down on any comments about how the dress would get ruined in bed, unwilling to contribute to my daughter’s bedtime stalls.
She crawled back under her blankets, and I bent over to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, Addie.” We both grinned at our nightly rhyme.
As I was straightening, I spotted an eyelash on her cheek. I gently brushed it onto my finger.
“An eyelash,” I said quietly. “Make a wish and blow it away.”
She closed her eyes for two seconds as if silently wishing, then opened them and blew the lash off my fingers with all the gusto of a six-year-old.
As I turned off the lamp on her nightstand, she said, “Know what I wished for, Daddy?”
“Aren’t you supposed to keep your wish to yourself?”
She shrugged. “I wished for you to get married.”
My brows shot up my forehead, likely to my hairline. “Why’s that, bug? We do okay with you, me, and Pops, don’t we? Plus your mom.”
Jessie was deployed overseas, so she wasn’t around much, but she faithfully called Addie as often as she could and spent most of her leave each year with her daughter.
“We do okay,” she said authoritatively. “But you should get a wedding and a happy ever after.”
My heart swelled with love for this little girl who’d used her wish for me. “You’re a sweet girl, but I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
“Mommy wasn’t the right one for you.”
“She was the right one to give us you.”
“Don’t you want another wife?”
“I wouldn’t mind having one if she’s the right one.”
She scrunched her face in thought. “How can you find the right one?”
I laughed quietly. “I wish I knew, bug.”
The truth was, I longed for a partner to share my life with, to build a future with. While each of the other guys in my dads’ group had been staunchly against relationships, love had fallen into their laps. I was over here wishing for someone, and here I was, the last single guy standing.
Irony was a bitch.
“You should go on some dates,” she said, starting to sound sleepy.
I chuckled. “Who would I go on a date with?”
Her shoulders went up in a shrug. “Whoever you like.”
“I’ll take that under consideration,” I whispered as I stood.
Her lids were heavy. She’d be out in less than sixty seconds.
“Night, bug.” I kissed her forehead, walked out, and closed her door.
To be six years old again, when everything was so much simpler. Black-and-white. Wishes could come true.
In a way, I wished I could keep her from growing up, protect her from the complexities of adulting. Instead I’d do my best to prepare her to handle the easy times and the hard ones.
I headed off to my room for the night, where I knew complexities were lying in wait for me, ready to invade my mind.