Chapter Six – Sarah
Sarah was unexpectedly nervous as she heard the rumble of Michael’s truck coming down the street. Her hands fluttered to her hair, smoothing it, though it was already perfectly in place. Why was her heart beating so fast? It was just a Christmas tree delivery.
“He’s here! He’s here!” Emmy’s voice rang through the house as she darted to the front window, breath fogging the glass. She spun around, eyes wide with excitement. “Can I open the door, Mom?”
Sarah nodded, trying to compose herself. “Go ahead, we don’t want to keep Michael waiting. I’m sure he’s got plenty of other trees to deliver.”
Emmy flung the door open, letting in a blast of frigid December air that made Sarah shiver. She grabbed her coat from the hook and pulled it on quickly, then reached for Emmy’s.
“Here, put this on before you catch cold,” she said, handing the small red coat to Emmy, who was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Mittens and scarves, too!” Pat called out from the living room in an amused tone.
“On it!” Emmy shrugged into her coat, then snatched her rainbow scarf from the hook and wrapped it haphazardly around her neck.
She hopped on one foot, then the other as she tugged on her snow boots, then her mittens, refusing to take her eyes off the window where Michael’s truck was now reversing expertly into their driveway.
Sarah pulled on her own boots, grateful for the moment to collect herself. What was it about this man that made her feel like a teenager again? She was a grown woman, a mother, with responsibilities and priorities that didn’t include getting flustered over a handsome tree farmer.
Together, they stepped out onto the porch. The cold air nipped at Sarah’s cheeks as she watched Michael switch off his headlights and cut the engine. Emmy slipped her small hand into Sarah’s and looked up, her face glowing with happiness.
“Thank you, Mom,” Emmy whispered, squeezing her hand. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
Sarah’s throat tightened as she fought to control the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside her that left her eyes sparkling with tears.
The worry she’d carried since the divorce—that she was somehow failing her daughter by upending their life—seemed to melt away in the face of Emmy’s joy. They were going to be okay.
No. They already were okay.
Michael emerged from the cab, the interior light illuminating his broad shoulders and the dark curls peeking from beneath his knit cap. Emmy tugged at Sarah’s hand, pulling her forward to meet him.
“Hello there,” Michael called, his breath visible in the cold air. “Special delivery for Emmy Carter.”
Emmy dropped Sarah’s hand and bounced on her toes. “You’ve come to the right house,” she declared with all the seriousness a seven-year-old could muster.
“Thanks so much for bringing the tree,” Sarah said, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. She could smell the pine sap on his clothes, mixed with something woodsy and warm that was uniquely him.
“All part of the service,” Michael replied, but the look he flashed her said so much more. His eyes held hers for a heartbeat too long, and Sarah felt heat rise to her cheeks despite the cold.
A moment of charged silence stretched between them, broken only when Emmy tugged at Michael’s sleeve.
“Come on, let’s get this beauty in the house!” Emmy declared, gesturing dramatically toward the tree.
Sarah and Michael both laughed, the tension dissolving into something lighter, more comfortable. Working together, they untied the tree from the truck bed. Michael did most of the heavy lifting, his movements strong and sure as he hoisted the spruce onto his shoulder.
“Emmy, would you run ahead and open the front door wide?” Michael asked, adjusting his grip on the trunk.
Emmy dashed up the steps, flinging the door open with a flourish.
Sarah walked alongside Michael, helping guide the tree’s top branches to prevent them from catching on anything. The smell of fresh pine enveloped them as they maneuvered through the doorway.
Inside, Pat had already cleared a space in the corner of the living room and set up the tree stand. She directed them with the precision of a symphony conductor.
“A little to the left,” Pat instructed as they positioned the tree. “Now straighten it... Perfect!”
While Sarah and Michael worked on securing the tree in its stand, Emmy hovered nearby, watching with fascination.
“Would you like some hot chocolate, Michael?” Emmy asked suddenly. “I can help Grandma make it.”
“I make it a rule never to say no to hot chocolate,” Michael replied with a wink that made Emmy giggle.
Pat and Emmy disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sarah and Michael alone with the tree. The sound of mugs clinking and Pat’s gentle instructions to Emmy floated in from the other room.
“Is the trunk straight?” Sarah asked, adjusting the screws on the stand.
“Almost,” Michael replied, shifting the tree slightly. “There. Perfect.”
Sarah stepped back to admire their handiwork and found herself smiling ridiculously. This was fun. More fun than she’d had in ages. Michael seemed different here, in her home, more relaxed than he had been at the tree farm.
“Hot chocolate delivery!” Emmy announced, carefully carrying a mug topped with a mountain of whipped cream and mini marshmallows. Pat followed with two more mugs.
“Thank you, Chef Emmy,” Michael said, accepting the mug with an exaggerated reverence that made Emmy beam with pride.
“Oh, look at it!” Emmy said, standing back to admire the tree. Then she leaned forward. “And smell it.” She sucked in the deepest breath, and so did Sarah.
“Smells like Christmas,” Pat said, squeezing Sarah’s arm. “Now, why don’t we dress the tree up a little?”
“Yes,” Emmy clapped her hands together and dragged the box filled with ornaments closer to the tree.
“Lights first.” Sarah gathered up the string of Christmas lights she had carefully unraveled earlier.
“Oh yeah,” Emmy giggled. “I nearly forgot.”
Together, they worked on the lights, Michael patiently following directions as Sarah and Emmy decided where they should go.
“Now for the special ornaments,” Emmy declared, pulling out a box labeled ‘EMMY’S TREASURES’ in wobbly letters.
Sarah watched as her daughter carefully showed Michael each precious decoration, explaining its history with the solemnity of a museum curator. Michael listened attentively, asking questions and handling each ornament as if it were made of glass, even the popsicle-stick reindeer from preschool.
“And this,” Emmy said, lifting a delicate ballerina from its tissue paper nest, “is my most special one. She spins!”
“She is special,” Michael said with serious reverence as Emmy hung the ballerina on a branch where the lights would catch her as she twirled.
“It’s time for the star,” Pat announced, retrieving a silver star from its box. “Who’s going to put it up this year?”
“Emmy should do it,” Sarah said immediately.
“But I can’t reach,” Emmy pointed out.
Michael stepped forward. “I think I can help with that.” He crouched down. “Hop on, kiddo.”
Emmy climbed onto his shoulders, giggling as he stood carefully. Sarah held her breath as Michael steadied Emmy with strong hands, lifting her high enough to place the star on the topmost branch.
“I did it!” Emmy crowed as Michael lowered her safely to the ground.
The completed tree stood magnificent in the corner, a perfect blend of twinkling lights, cherished ornaments, and fresh pine scent. Sarah felt something catch in her throat at the sight…it was everything she’d hoped it would be.
And more.
A chime sounded, and Michael pulled his phone from his pocket. His expression shifted as he read the text.
“I should get going,” he said, tucking the phone away. “There’s something I need to take care of.”
“Oh,” Sarah said, disappointment washing over her. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time.” She suddenly realized she hadn’t even considered that Michael might have someone waiting for him to get home. A girlfriend, or maybe even a wife. The thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, his voice warm. “This was…” he gestured to the tree, to Emmy, who was still circling it in wonder, to the empty hot chocolate mugs. “…really nice.”
“Really nice,” Sarah repeated, unable to stop herself from glancing at his left hand as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. No ring. Her pulse quickened as she confirmed what she’d noticed earlier at the tree farm. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Maybe he simply didn’t wear a ring while working with the trees…a practical precaution to avoid losing it.
She scolded herself mentally. What was she doing, spinning romantic fantasies about a man she’d just met? She’d sworn off relationships after the divorce, determined to focus solely on Emmy and rebuilding their lives.
“I’ve enjoyed this immensely,” Michael said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “It’s not often I get to see the full journey of one of my trees, from the farm to fully decorated.”
Something in his tone, in the way he said “immensely,” made her wonder if perhaps he didn’t have someone special waiting for him after all.
And that maybe someday she might be his special someone…
“Thank you for the hot chocolate,” he added, turning to Emmy, who was still circling the tree, adjusting ornaments to her exacting standards. “It was the perfect tree-decorating fuel.”
Emmy spun around, her face alight with joy. “Thank you for our tree! It’s the best tree ever!”
“I agree,” Michael said, zipping up his coat. “And now I’m about to deliver the second-best tree ever to the town square.”
Emmy’s eyes widened. “The town square tree? How big is it?”
Michael stretched his arms wide. “As big as your house.”
“Wow!” Emmy gasped, her mouth forming a perfect O. “But how do you get a star on the top?”
Michael leaned down, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “Christmas magic.”
Emmy considered this with the seriousness of a philosopher. “I’d love to see it. Can we, Mom? Please? Please can we go and help Michael with the big tree?”
Michael glanced at Sarah, his eyebrows raised in silent question. How she liked that about him. The way he always deferred to her. He wasn’t trying to override her, wasn’t assuming anything. He respected her role as Emmy’s mother.
“I suppose we could drive into town,” Sarah said, surprised by her own eagerness. “If you’re not too tired, Emmy. It’s been a long couple of days.”
“I’m not tired at all!” Emmy declared, already racing toward the coat rack. “I want to see the Christmas magic!”
“I guess that’s settled then.” Sarah couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling inside her. It had nothing to do with spending more time with Michael, she told herself firmly. It was about the tree. The massive, magical town square tree that would make Emmy’s eyes light up with wonder.
Yes. That was it.
Just the tree. Nothing else.