Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Aaron
I’m free again on Wednesday evening for dinner. Can I take you out again?
Jenna
Wednesday sounds great. It’ll have to be kind of a late dinner again, though. Is that okay?
Hmm. I only have six to eight free. Colin has dinner with his mom on Wednesday. Any way you could get away early that day?
Can I see what I can do and get back to you?
Of course
I’d texted Jenna on Saturday about a second date on Wednesday.
For some reason, I didn’t count on the fact that she’d be at ChristmasFest until it closes at eight.
She said she’d let me know, but it’s Monday now, and I still don’t know if we’re going to be able to have dinner on Wednesday.
The pessimistic part of me thinks I should just consider the date canceled.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I know this is her busiest time of year.
In Arcadian Falls, it’s everyone’s busiest time of year.
Sighing, I put my phone down after rereading our text exchange for the hundredth time and try to refocus on the work in front of me.
One of my clients finally sent me her end of year estimates despite me asking for them in mid-October.
So I have to crunch to get through all her documents before Colin’s Christmas break starts.
Just as I’m digging in, my phone alerts with a text.
Mom
There’s a young woman here asking for you. When I offered to get you, she said not to worry, but I thought you’d like to know anyway.
I don’t recognize her, but I know you had a date the other night. Are you canoodling with tourists now?
Canoodling? How old are you, Mom? 120?
I notice you didn’t answer my question. If you want to see your mystery woman, she’s looking at the pre-cut trees.
While I suppose it could be any number of women—it’s not like my mom knows every single woman in the surrounding area—my gut says it’s Jenna.
I stare at my computer for a second longer, debating with myself between being responsible and seeing Jenna. Seeing Jenna wins, hands down. Worst case, I work on this after Colin’s in bed a few nights this week to make sure it all gets done in time.
After hitting save, I tuck my phone in my pocket and grab my coat and keys to head down to the main farm area. The house is set back far enough from the main business front that people don’t bother me, but when it’s cold or I’m in a hurry, I tend to drive my truck down rather than walk.
Mom spots me as I hop out of my truck. She grins, knowing full well why I’m here, and gestures toward the cut trees before turning back to the customer she’s helping.
I make my way over there, my boots crunching on the frozen ground with its thin crust of snow. It takes me a few minutes of wandering through the rows of trees before I spot her. “Anything specific you’re hoping to find?” I ask like I’m a salesman here to help.
Jenna’s head jerks up in my direction, then a smile spreads across her face. “Aaron,” she breathes.
Taking a half step closer to her, I hesitate. How should I greet her? With a hug? A kiss? A handshake? None of the above?
“I was told you weren’t here today,” she says, closing the gap between us.
I’m still not sure if I should touch her, though.
She has her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her scarf nearly obscuring her mouth.
It’s chilly today, of course, but warmer than it was last night by a good ten degrees.
You wouldn’t know it from the way she’s acting, though.
This woman really does need a better coat.
Or warmer layers underneath the coat she has. Or both.
Unable to help myself, I reach out and rub her arms. She leans into my touch, and that makes me smile. “I’m not working here today. But my mom said someone was asking for me, and based on her description, I knew it had to be you.”
“So you came down to see me?” Her smile grows as she asks her question.
“Of course. Is that really surprising?”
Jenna shrugs. “Not surprising, exactly. But maybe a little unexpected. Especially if you’re interrupting your normal job. It’s my one day off a week, so I thought it was time to get myself a tree. Any recommendations?”
She turns, though she stays next to me, leaning against my side. It’s the most natural thing in the world to wrap my arm around her. “Hmm.” I pretend to think about her question. “How big of a space do you have?”
“Not too big. I have a one-bedroom apartment, though the living room is decent sized. I was kind of thinking of putting a tree on my little side table, but these all look way too big for that.”
“I’m surprised you’re not wanting one of the potted trees.” She was so enthusiastic about them for the Fest, after all.
She laughs, the sound light and free. “I can understand why you’d think that.
And that would probably work better for a tabletop tree, wouldn’t it?
” She shrugs. “I dunno. I just thought one I wouldn’t have to keep alive forever or figure out where to plant later on would be better.
Again, apartment. No yard to plant a tree in. ”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she could plant it here, but I worry that would sound like way too much too soon, and also possibly like I want her to replant the tree here so I can sell it again later, which isn’t my real goal.
Seeing her here, though, has possible futures flitting through my brain, and I need to lock that down now before I get carried away with myself.
I don’t want to be one of those weird, creepy assholes who start talking forever by the second date.
We’re still getting to know each other. It’s better to take things one step at a time and not get too far ahead of myself.
“Okay. Good point. We don’t tend to cut very small trees, but I do like to offer a variety of shapes and sizes so everyone can find something that’ll work for them.
We don’t want people buying a fake tree just because they can’t find a real one that fits their space, after all.
” I lead the way toward the end of the row where the smaller trees are kept.
“That’s part of the reason we started offering the potted trees.
I thought they’d fit in more spaces, plus some people feel like it’s more eco friendly. ”
She gives me a funny look. “Do you disagree with that?”
I shrug. “It’s not really different than a cut tree, to be honest. And plenty of people manage to kill their potted trees.
Is that really better than just buying a cut tree?
Plus, you know I’ll be planting a new tree to replace all the ones we—or our customers—have cut.
But if people feel better about a potted tree, I’m happy to sell them.
It’s definitely better than buying a plastic one. ”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she murmurs, stepping forward to examine the trees I’ve brought her to.
Her comment about not having anywhere for the tree to go after Christmas raises an interesting point, though.
Could I start a program where people get a rebate or a discount for next year if they bring their potted trees back to be planted here?
I might talk to Mom about that later. We can figure out a way to field test the idea and see how receptive people might be to it.
Of course, people can certainly plant their trees on their own property regardless. Something to think about, at least.
Jenna’s fondling the needles on a small Douglas-fir.
She tips it away from the beam it’s leaning against, and I reach forward, pulling it away from the rest and holding it in the center of the aisle for her to get a better look at it.
She circles around it like selecting this tree is the most momentous decision of her life.
Or at least of this week. Hell, maybe it is.
While she’s looking at it, I clear my throat, working up the courage to ask the question that’s been pressing since we texted. “So, have you thought any more about Wednesday?”
She looks up, blinking for a second, then her face brightens.
“Oh! Right. Sorry. I’ve been slammed the last couple of days.
Um, I think I can manage to get away early on Wednesday.
Leaving early one night this month isn’t likely to make the entire festival burn to the ground, right? ” She grins at me, and I grimace.
“Let’s hope you didn’t just jinx everything.”
Laughing, she gives the tree one more inspection. “I think this one’ll work. I’ll have to get a tree stand and some more ornaments. Oh, and lights. I have a few ornaments, but not many.”
“Well, you’re in luck. We stock stands and lights and ornaments right here. Though I’m sure you can find even more ornaments at ChristmasFest. Have you heard about it? It’s a pretty cool tradition we have going on here.”
“Oh, really?” she says playing along, her voice dry. “Wow. That sounds amazing. I’ll have to check it out.”
“You really should. There’s this new lady that just moved to town that took it over. I hear she’s doing a bang up job.”
She laughs, though there’s a hint of irony in it. “Oh, yeah? I’m not sure everyone would agree with you about that.”
“Ehhh. I wouldn’t worry too much about what those people think. Some people don’t know what’s good for ‘em. And some people just resist anything that looks like change, even if the change would be beneficial.”
Squaring off, she puts her hands on her hips. “Are you saying that you’re one of those people who don’t know what’s good for them? Or are you just resistant to change? Or both?”
Pressing my lips together, I suck in a deep breath. “I have to say both. It’s not one of my better qualities. I’ve been accused of being a stick in the mud more than once.”
Holding both hands in front of her mouth, she gives an exaggerated gasp, her mouth round in mock surprise, eyebrows high. “You? Never. I don’t believe it.”
“I usually come around eventually,” I grumble.
“At least you can say that much,” she says, dropping the act. “There are plenty around here who I don’t think can lay claim to that attribute. And at least you’re aware of those aspects of your personality.”
“True. Once I realize I’m being obstinate for its own sake, I can usually either be convinced to keep an open mind or find reasons to back up my original position.”
Her laughter makes me grin, and I heft the tree. “Let’s find you a good tree stand and some lights. You can look over the ornament selection here and see if we have what you need. The Christmas Emporium’ll have more, though.”
“It’s interesting,” she muses, her voice lilting as we walk, “that they have no problem with sharing the slice of Christmas buyers.”
I cut my eyes toward her. “I know where you’re going with this.”
Once again, she does her faux innocent act. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. And I’ll have you know that we get all our decorating stock from The Christmas Emporium.
It benefits both of our businesses for those things to be in stock here.
They sell it to us at a slight discount over their retail, we sell things for the same price they do—barring any sales they might run, of course—and pocket the difference.
It increases our bottom line and gives them another outlet for merchandise, plus a little advertising as the sign above the ornaments says they’re from The Christmas Emporium. You’ll see when we get in there.”
As soon as we’re in the barn, she heads over to the display, looking intently at all the decorating supplies we stock. “I’ll put this over by the check out and grab you a hot chocolate.”
She smiles at me. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”
Mom’s waiting for me at the check out desk, eyebrows raised, a small smile on her face. “I see I made the right call letting you know she was here. Who is she, exactly?”
“That’s Jenna Matthews. The new event coordinator that took over when Cynthia retired.”
Mom nods, her face registering that she should’ve known that. “Oh, that’s right. I don’t think I’ve actually met her before, so I didn’t recognize her. Well, at least she’s not a tourist. We wouldn’t want another Amelia situation, after all.”
“Mom,” I say, warning in my voice. “We’ve talked about this. Amelia and I were never planning on being in a long-term relationship. Colin didn’t change that. I know you have opinions on how involved she is—”
“Or isn’t,” Mom interrupts darkly.
“I know you have opinions, but we came to an agreement that lets her be a positive presence in Colin’s life while also providing him with stability.”
Mom softens. “I know, sweetheart. I do. I’m just saying …” She shakes her head, holding up her hands. “I just want you to be happy. And you haven’t dated at all since Colin came along. Is this another casual thing? Or …?”
“Jesus, Mom. We’ve gone on one date. Don’t start planning any weddings yet.”
She clasps her hands next to her face. “Oh, but a wedding here would be so perfect,” she whispers.
“Mom!” I hiss.
She holds her hands up again. “I know, I know. I’m not saying you and Jenna will get married. I’m just … daydreaming. Maybe Colin will grow up and get married here. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Or one of your nieces or nephews. I’m just saying, this would make a lovely venue.”
“If you’re so set on hosting weddings here, we could add a page to the website and see if we get any bites.”
Her eyebrows jump. “Let’s talk about that more later. But that’s not a bad idea at all.” Her gaze drifts to Jenna again. “She’s pretty.”
“She is. And smart and funny too.” Mom grins, and I shake my head. “Don’t get too excited. We’ve only been on one date.”
“I promise not to get ahead of myself.”
That makes two of us.