Chapter Four #2
“It’s all right, buddy. I’m not going to let anyone take it away from you.
The food is all yours.” Hollis wanted Buster to feel safe with him.
Having another dog in the vicinity might be threatening, but Duke was well trained and Hollis was keeping them crated in separate areas of the house as Buster adjusted.
Slowly, Buster edged toward the bowl and sniffed before lowering his head and snapping up the food pebbles hungrily.
Hollis’s injury on Thanksgiving hadn’t been Buster’s fault.
Hollis had moved too quickly, forgetting all his dog training skills that he’d gotten during his seven months of juvenile detention as a teen.
The program was a way to build job skills as well as confidence in the young juveniles.
Hollis hadn’t expected to gain anything from those seven months, certainly not a lifelong passion.
He loved working with dogs, but his mind had been on other things Thanksgiving Day, like opening season for the tree farm and his hope of moving forward with the plans that he and Pop had made together.
Not many knew about what Hollis and Pop were planning.
Hollis had hoped to leave Matt’s construction crew next year and start working full-time at Popadine’s Tree Farm with Pop’s full blessing.
Did Pop’s decline in memory change that prospect?
Hollis had even entertained the possibility of inviting some of the teenagers at the juvenile detention facility to learn under him.
There was a lot of satisfaction in learning how to teach a dog the obedience skills that made the dog more appealing to prospective owners and often led to the dog being adopted.
“You’ll find your forever home,” Hollis promised Buster as he watched the dog continue to eat. The food was nearly gone.
Buster’s gaze lifted to watch Hollis as he continued eating, showing a bit of territorial food behavior.
It was easy to see that Buster wasn’t quite comfortable around humans.
He also needed to get used to being around other dogs and possibly cats.
Animals who could tolerate other pets and the loud, unpredictable behavior of children were more adoptable.
The gash on Hollis’s leg ached at the memory of what had happened on Thanksgiving when Buster had lunged at him.
He needed a bandage change, but it’d have to wait until after dinner because he was hungry too.
After Buster finished eating, Hollis led the dog outside where there was a small fenced-in area.
Pop never had pets, but when Hollis came to stay with him last year, Pop had insisted on getting a fence for Duke.
Out of respect, Hollis hadn’t taken in any other fosters.
Respect and a lack of time, because Hollis had shifted his focus to Pop for a while.
Things were different now though. Pop lived at Memory Oaks, and Hollis now lived here alone.
Leaving Buster in the fenced area, Hollis headed inside and placed a Hot Pocket in the microwave.
Living alone equaled convenient dinners that usually tasted like cardboard.
As long as it extinguished the hunger. Three minutes later, Hollis dropped the steaming Hot Pocket on a paper plate, grabbed a canned soda, and headed toward the back door that led to the porch.
Before he could step out, the doorbell rang.
Who would be visiting right now?
He wasn’t expecting anyone, and there weren’t any neighbors for miles. He peeked through the peephole before opening the door. “Mal. What are you doing here?”
Mallory wrung her hands as she stood on the wood plank porch. “Sorry for stopping by so late.”
“It’s fine. Everything okay?” He’d just seen her earlier at Memory Oaks, and she hadn’t looked as shaken as she did now.
“Something happened earlier,” she said. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He gestured her inside and closed the door behind him, leading her to the sofa. He took a seat in the recliner across from her. “What’s going on?”
“Something happened when I was with Nan this afternoon. After you left.”
“Okay.” Hollis had no idea what she might tell him. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. I mean, as fine as she has been.” Mallory reached inside her purse and pulled out a leather-bound book that Hollis had never seen before. “This is Nan’s book.”
“Nan wrote a book?” he asked.
“Well, kind of. It’s a journal obviously, but she wrote the story behind each of the ornaments for her Memory Tree.”
Hollis nodded. Nan had mentioned her Memory Tree to him last year, briefly explaining its purpose when he’d helped her pick out the perfect tree on the lot, which just so happened to be the smallest.
“Tonight, I read her one of the journal entries, and she remembered,” Mallory said excitedly.
“It was only for a brief second, and I’m not sure if the memory was real or fake.
That’s why I’m here.” Mallory rolled her lips together, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
“Do you know anything about the first play that Nan was in?”
Obviously, Hollis hadn’t been alive when Nan started acting.
He’d grown up going to the Bloom Community Theater every day after school though, and Nan had always told him stories of her younger theater days over milk and a plate of cookies before giving him chores at the theater.
As he grew older, he helped construct the stage sets.
“The first play your grandmother was in? You mean in high school?” Hollis asked, trying to think back to all the black-and-white photos from past productions that hung on Nan’s office walls. “The first play was Merry Little Santa, I think.” He shrugged. “Or something like that.”
Mallory leaned forward, and when she did, Hollis caught her floral scent.
“Who played Santa? Do you know?”
Hollis had rarely ever seen Mallory, typically so composed, so worked up. She was normally professional. At least since being an adult. The younger Mallory that he’d grown up with, though, had been energetic, and she’d loved the theater just as much as Nan. “I couldn’t tell you. Why? What’s up?”
Mallory was glowing, visibly trying to contain her excitement. “I’m not sure. This evening when I was reading Nan an entry from her journal…” Mallory shook her head. “I can’t confirm that any of what she said is correct, but she seemed to remember something.”
“Wow. That’s great, Mal.”
“The entry talked about her first love, and I don’t think that person was my grandfather.” Mallory pressed her lips together. “Hollis, I came here tonight to ask you for a favor.”
Hollis already knew, whatever Mallory’s request, his answer would be yes.
“I need a tree for Nan’s room.”
“In Memory Oaks?” Hollis blew out a breath. “There’s no way Francis is going to allow you to put up a live tree in one of the resident’s rooms. Trust me, I asked about putting one in Pop’s room. How can a lifelong tree farmer possibly have a room without a Christmas tree during the holidays?”
A thin sheen of tears formed in Mallory’s eyes. “I just have this feeling it’ll help her. Is there anything you can do?”
“Aside from smuggling it into Nan’s room?” He rubbed a hand along his short beard, letting the sensation distract him from soaking in Mallory’s eyes. The shine of her hair. The little freckle at the far edge of her right cheek.
“If you can bring a dog into Memory Oaks, I’m guessing you can find a way to bring a tree.” She leaned toward him, her hands folding in front of her in a pleading gesture.
Did Mallory Blue know that he would do just about anything for her? He cleared his throat. “Meet me at the tree farm tomorrow. I’ll be out there all day. We’ll walk around and find a Memory Tree–size blue fir. Not too small, not too big.”
Mallory’s face lit up. “What about Francis?”
“Fran owes me a favor. I do my best not to collect on favors, but in this case, I think it’s appropriate.”
Mallory’s gaze searched his. “Why does Francis owe you a favor?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I may have built a wheelchair ramp overnight when her husband had his accident last spring. I donated my time and even the lumber. That’s why I did it instead of Matt’s crew. Love Matt, but pro bono isn’t his thing.”
“No, but it is yours.” Mallory gave him a knowing look. “You’re still trying to make up for things long forgiven and forgotten.”
Hollis leaned over his knees and clasped his hands. “Maybe. For the record, good deeds don’t make a good man.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you are. Thank you, Hol.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Mallory’s hands stopped wringing, and her shoulders hung relaxed at her side.
Hollis had noticed she’d been tense lately, as if carrying the world on her shoulders, which was typical for the Mallory Blue he knew.
Lately it had concerned him though. Sometimes a person’s world got too heavy, even for the strongest person to bear.
That’s why Nan had called him into her office last year as well, and just like Mallory tonight, Nan had asked for a favor that he couldn’t deny.
“I want you to know I’m here for whatever you need.
With Nan or the play. You have a lot on your plate. ”
When Nan had met with Hollis last Christmas, she’d warned Hollis that Mallory would shy away from confiding in anyone about how overwhelmed she was. Nan had said Mallory would also hesitate to ask for help.
Mallory looked down for a moment, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that much. The play pretty much runs itself at this point. I’m just a warm body who can open the theater doors and make sure everyone has their lines and costumes. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”
“People underestimate how big an ask it is just to show up sometimes,” Hollis said quietly.
“Well, my sister certainly does.” She exhaled and held up a hand. “She’s the one with a lot on her plate. Me? I’m fine.”
Her words didn’t match the tension rolling off her.
“Thank you so much, Hollis.” Standing, she turned and headed toward the door.
Hollis followed her onto the porch. “I’m glad you know you could ask me for whatever you need.”
Mallory looked at him. “Sometimes you’re too nice for your own good. People could take advantage of that.”
“Not you,” he said quietly. “I could count on one hand how many times you’ve asked me for anything.”
“Maybe I’m setting myself up for disappointment, but some part of me hopes that creating this Memory Tree will help Nan remember. This afternoon, I learned something about her I didn’t know. I’m excited to see what else I’ll discover. But also kind of scared.”
“Even the best of us have skeletons in our closets.” And he of all people was in no position to judge.
Nan had shared a few of her secrets when he was at his lowest points just to show that change was possible and no one was beyond reform.
Mallory seemed to have her grandmother on a pedestal.
He didn’t think that would change, but she was in store for a few surprises.
Mallory tilted her head as she looked at him, her eyes subtly narrowing. “I’m sorry. I burst right in and didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Just tired.” He’d been working extra hard on the construction crew these last couple of weeks knowing that he would be running Pop’s Christmas Tree Farm after Thanksgiving.
Matt always worked Hollis harder right before the holidays.
Hollis suspected it was payback for him helping Pop at the farm.
If not for Hollis, Pop would probably have had to sell a long time ago.
As he’d gotten older, he couldn’t do the heavy lifting, and every year he’d relied more heavily on Hollis.
“You’re tired, and here I am bothering you with yet another thing to add to your to-do list.” Mallory flashed a guilty grin.
“You’re not bothering me. In fact, now I have something to look forward to.
” Maybe that comment was a little too strong.
Yeah, he’d always had a crush on Mallory that he tried to keep in check.
He knew nothing was ever going to happen between them and didn’t want to make things weird.
“I love the thrill of the hunt for the perfect tree.”
“Who would’ve thought the reformed bad boy of Bloom would turn into a regular Saint Nick? Certainly not me,” she said honestly. “If you remember, you were supposed to play Mr. Claus when we were fifteen.”
“Oh, I remember,” Hollis said with a frown. “I’ve been regretting fumbling that opportunity most of my life.”
Mallory gave him an unreadable look. “I can find you a role in this year’s play if you want.”
“Nah. I’m good staying behind the scenes.”
“Okay. Well, thank you again, Hollis. I guess I’m one of those people who owe you now. If there’s any way to repay you.”
“Not necessary.” Pop’s voice played in his head. Hollis cleared his throat. “Actually, maybe there is a way you can repay me. Any chance you’ll be attending the dance at Memory Oaks next Friday?”
Her smile faltered. “I was considering it. Are-are you going too?”
Why was he so nervous right now? Sweaty palms and everything. “Pop asked me to go.”
She watched him, her eyes sliding back and forth across his face, as if reading him like a book. “You mentioned me repaying your favor?” she asked.
“Yeah. Uh, Pop seems to think I should, uh, discuss dog poop with someone.”
Mallory burst into quiet laughter. “You want to talk about dog poop at the dance?”
“It’s kind of a metaphor. And it would make Pop happy, which makes me happy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away because looking at Mallory was making his words jumble. “So, if you were to go to the dance next Friday, maybe we could show the older generation how to bust a move.”
Mallory laughed again, giving him the kind of confidence that only came from making a woman laugh. “Bust a move and discuss dog poop. Wow, I’m not sure I want your help with the tree anymore,” she teased, heading down the porch steps. “Just kidding. See you tomorrow, Hol. Have a good night.”
“Night.” He watched her get into her car.
Then he walked back inside, where his Hot Pocket was waiting for him.
And Buster was on the other side of the glass back door, watching Hollis with large brown eyes.
His tail wagged at the sight of Hollis, which Hollis took as progress.
A couple of laughs from Mallory and tail wags from Buster.
He must be doing something right these days.