Sweet Christmas Kisses (144 page)

“Huh. Well, we’ve got the lanes for people to drive back. Just need a little more gravel on some of them.” He was giving the idea a chance, thank goodness.

I smiled at him, grateful. “Don’t make it too perfect. Part of the draw will be the backwoods feel of it.”

David looked relieved at that, as if he had expected to shovel gravel.

 “Might put one or two cabins near the lake,” Jim said, considering.

“We’ll have to get the building inspector to sign off on this,” said David. “Whatever we do will have to have plumbing, electricity, septic system. Sounds like a lot of money to spend for something we don’t know the return on.”

Francie laughed at him. “David, you know this will be a draw. You’re an example of the kind of people who would come up from Louisville on the weekends. They work hard, maybe travel for their job, and by the end of the week they just want quiet and relaxation. Hey—I live in the city, remember. I know what that’s like.”

David looked thoughtful, no doubt doing some mental math.

I appreciated Francie’s contribution. “That’s the kind of thing that really made sense to me about Jared Barnett’s idea. I know this wouldn’t be everyone’s idea of a perfect weekend, but think of the magazines you read and the kinds of vacations that are touted. So many that have a taste of quiet and nature are in national parks, or at the least in state parks. The state parks in Indiana don’t all have cabins, so they’re still not reaching the people who want to be out in nature, yet not camping.”

“We could offer camping too, I guess,” Francie said cautiously.

“Do you want to get into that?” David’s deep frown was back. “More danger of fire I’d say, because campers like to have the option of building a campfire.”

“No campground,” Jim said emphatically. “One hot dry summer and an unsupervised campfire and the whole place, including our homes, could go up in flames.”

“I just realized what I could do,” said Lillian. “The Christmas shop could be used in the off season as the place for our guests to come and have breakfast. That could be included in the fee, right? I would know how many people are staying each night, since I’m taking the money and handing out the keys. Somebody can draw a nice map for me to hand out. And each morning I’ll serve breakfast in the Christmas shop. Casseroles, biscuits and gravy, fresh fruit in season. It could be fun. Sometimes since you all went out on your own, I miss cooking for a crowd.”

Carla looked at Lillian. “You sure that wouldn’t be too much on you, Mom? We don’t want you to overdo.”

“I’m not sick, honey. I’m grieving—we’re all grieving. But Melissa, and everybody, help me understand how this would make the farm more sustainable.”

“We would get a loan to do the improvements. I don’t think that’ll be a problem at all,” said Jim. “We advertise—”

“I’ll be in charge of that,” David offered.

“Great. We advertise, we get people in here, they tell their friends. The money they spend will pay back the loan.”

Now we were on a roll. “And the increased income will free up some money so you can hire someone, or more than one, to help Jim do the pruning.”

“And the mowing. Most of the grunt work is in the summer. Might be a decent summer job for a couple of high school kids who don’t mind working hard.” He slapped his forehead. “I should have gotten more help this year, but I just toughed it out. Sometimes I’m too hard headed.”

“Only sometimes?” asked David.

“You’re like your father, Jim, in that you try to do it all yourself.” Lillian looked slowly around the room, making careful eye contact with each of her children, and also with me. “That’s not a good way to run a business, and we won’t be doing it that way anymore. We can’t let Jim keep carrying more than his share of the work. I love the idea of giving jobs to high school students.”

“They’ll be fighting over who gets to run the big fancy mower,” Carla chuckled.

“Maybe,” said Jim. “We’ll see what happens. Good idea.”

“What do you think about letting people stay in the cabins in the winter? Might get in the way of our main business, right?” David asked

“The overnight guests will mostly be inside the cabins, there will be one, maybe two vehicles parked outside each one. If guests want to walk in the woods, that doesn’t hurt anything, right?”

Jim shook his head.

“So the B&B users won’t be in the way of tree customers to any great extent.”

“I think people would love staying here during cold weather,” said Francie. “It’s a short trip from Louisville for the change of pace, and if there are kids they can see how the Christmas tree farm works.”

“What about breakfast for them when the Christmas shop is set up for the retail season though? That won’t work,” David said.

“Maybe I’ll serve breakfast in the house then. I’ll have to think about it. Or drive around to the cabins and deliver breakfast. That might be an option. I know a friendly dog who would love to go with me and announce our arrival at each place.”

Carla winced. “That might not be quite what people want, if they’re here for a romantic weekend, Mom.”

I laughed. “These are things we can fine-tune later, everybody. The question right now is, do you want to pursue the possibilities of little cabins scattered through the property as extra income?”

“It’s worlds better than selling to a developer who would destroy the farm, take down most of the trees, and replace them with big houses,” said Francie. “Then, of course, name the development Piney Acres. Gag.”

Carla laughed. “I love the idea of being able to keep the farm and the Christmas tree business, but having something else going on too. I think it could be a lot of fun to decorate the interiors of the little cabins.” I could see she was envisioning décor already. “We could have some that are particularly romantic, say, and if someone calls for a honeymoon or anniversary, we’d know which ones to suggest.”

“Put pictures online. Start a website. Put flyers in the State welcome centers.” David was getting into it now.

“Advertise in magazines that target this area,” Francie offered.

“Don’t go crazy with lots of paid advertising,” I cautioned. “Join the State B&B association and see what perks go along with membership. I know you get listed on their website with a link to your own, if you have one, because I looked up the local B&B. She isn’t interested in having a site of her own, but gets some referrals that way.”

David had found an envelope and was furiously scribbling notes. “Try to get some Louisville media attention. One of the news anchors always comes up here to cut his own tree. He would be a good contact for that.”

By the time the first Christmas tree customer showed up, we were ready. We had some hope—hope that not only would we get through this Christmas season, which had seemed such an insurmountable task a few weeks ago, but that we might be able to keep the farm going in the future, too.

A couple of weeks into the season, Alice stopped at my house shortly before closing time.

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Alice. This is a surprise.”

“Yes. To me, as well.” She raised the cardboard carrier I hadn’t noticed when she walked in.

“Coffee?”

“Hot cocoa from The Chocolate Muffin.”

“Oh, wow. Come right on in. Good thing that place wasn’t open when we were kids. I would have weighed three hundred pounds and been spoiled for any other bakery in the world.” I was disappointed she hadn’t brought any pastries, but the cocoa was amazing. “Have a seat.” She sat on the big sectional and I sat facing her. “Thanks for the cocoa. I only have a few minutes though. I have to leave to pick up Matthew. Assuming no potential clients come in right before closing.”

“Mel, I know you’re pressed for time. I’m going to work some this evening too.” She took a deep breath and seemed to be at war with herself. “I try really hard not to gossip. I hate the gossip in this town—it is always tearing people down. But Dean shared something with me that I thought you should know.”

“Okay.”

“You know he’s a barber and he had a run-in with that guy who was trying to pressure the Standishes into selling?”

“Um, yes.”

“Dean was really riled up about that.”

“Okay.”

“He was very angry and full of righteous indignation on behalf of the Standish family—Jim in particular. Partly because they went to school together, partly because he’s a customer and an occasional fishing buddy. But also partly because Jim was very badly wronged by another gold digger in the past.”

“Um, Alice. None of my business here.” I took a big drink of cocoa and immediately scalded my mouth.

“Yes it’s your business. You and Jim have a history. And I think you have a future as well.”

“Maybe. Jury’s still out…”

“Here’s the thing, Mel. Several years ago, David and Jim and Dean, and Dean’s buddy Irv and maybe somebody else went on a camping and fishing trip. Evidently out by the campfire one night they started sharing stories. Most guys from Serendipity in that age group are dads. But these four aren’t, and they started talking about it. Who knows how much beer had been consumed, but Jim really loosened up and said he and Diana were trying to have a baby—”

I stood up, almost toppling the hot cocoa on the low table. “Alice—time out. This is nothing I want to hear about, trust me.”

“Yes, it is, Mel. Have a seat.”

Alice is always very soft spoken, always asks and never tells. I sat.

“Diana said she was doing all the right herbal teas and relaxation and whatever to try to get pregnant, and normal methods—sorry—normal methods weren’t getting it. The doctor told her the only way was to try
in vitro
. They go to the city and the sperm is collected. Evidently, there was some kind of preparation Diana was supposed to undergo before implantation. And she made the appointment at a time when Jim had a jury trial, so he couldn’t go with her.”

My throat was super dry, wondering where this story was going, and if I’d be in any shape to hear the ending of it.

“Long story short, it was all a ruse. She had no intention of getting pregnant. And for some reason, she hated Jim so much that she
sold his sperm to a sperm bank.”

“She—are you serious?” I had never liked Diana, but this was beyond anything I could have imagined.

Alice nodded. “Of course I’m serious. I don’t have a clue how you’d go about doing that. Seems like you’d need the donor’s permission. Gah! Well, when she left Jim, in addition to all the other ugliness of the divorce, she laid this news on him.” Alice swatted at a tear that had escaped and started to run down her face. “He wanted kids so much, and to know that she had lied to him about it and then sold his sperm.”

I sat down by Alice and put my arm around her. This was more painful to her than I would have expected.

She took a deep breath. “Well, Jim has been dealing with all that trauma for a few years, and then his dad died. I just thought you might want to know.”

“So I’ll be more understanding?” It was a huge burden for him to have carried alone.

“Mel, come on. Hello—
Matthew
.”

“Matthew?”

“You never said who his dad is.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I’m listening, if you want to tell me a story now about a wonderful guy who would have been a great dad but somehow was tragically killed on a mission trip to take medicine to some starving children.”

Her eyes were intense but they weren’t searching for an answer. She knew the answer, and I had never told a single soul.

“How, Alice? How did you know this about Matthew?”

She smiled gently. “I have no idea. Maybe because you and I have been friends since almost babyhood.” She stood and smoothed her jeans. “I just didn’t realize until Dean told me this story, that Jim is Matthew’s dad. Pretty strange coincidence, huh?

“If you want to use the word coincidence. And we certainly don’t know that Jim is Matthew’s dad.”

“They look identical. I bet if you asked Lillian to see pictures of Jim at that age—I’m sure Lillian has noticed but didn’t say anything. Anyway, as far as I know, you and I and good old Diana are the only females to know Jim’s story. And only you and I know your story. I’m not going to tell anybody anything…but I think you should.”

I started to disagree but she just shook her head and smiled again.

“Think about it, Mel. I know you’ll choose the right path.”

Tree season was going well, according to the Standishes. There were lots of customers, but plenty of help too. The weather was mostly decent, and when it turned cold or snowed a little, there were more customers, just as expected.

I heard from Carla that Emily’s dad drove up one afternoon in his old pick-up truck. He reported Emily was doing better than the doctors had expected. His plan was to buy a big tree for their home as usual, and also take a small one to Emily’s room at the rehab facility. David and Jim helped him choose, cut, and load the trees, and flatly refused payment. Lillian assembled a little bag of goodies from the Christmas shop when she realized what was going on, and hugged the appreciative man when handing it to him.

“Send us a picture of your girl enjoying that tree,” Jim had said gruffly, and Emily’s dad promised to do so. That, Carla said, is just how their father would have handled it. 

The Friday morning before Christmas, I got a text from Jim. Francie had given him my cell number. He asked me to go out with him after the farm and shop closed for the night. Carla would drive Matthew home, put him to bed, and stay with him until I got back.

He had everything organized, which was sweet, and I appreciated his effort. I wondered if he would regret it all after we hashed out the things that remained between us. 

A cold drizzle started to fall about an hour before closing, effectively stopping the traffic. Jim came into the Christmas shop.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Why was I so nervous? This felt like the most awkward first date ever.

“Weather forecast says this won’t clear up tonight. David can handle things outside, if you think the boss will let you leave a little early.” He sent Lillian a winning smile.