Amanda broke the awkward silence. “I’m going to leave you two to do your work. Alex, please be gentle on him,” she said and patted Tate’s chest for extra good measure.
“Oh, I’ll be gentle on him, Mandy. Don’t you worry,” Alex replied. “It will be a day he’ll never forget.”
She left the two and headed back up the hill. How could she get Alex to warm up to the idea that she and Tate were a couple? Maybe Tate would have better luck. She looked back. Of course he would; he was Mr. Quick Thinker. He’d spin some lie. By the time Tate was done with him, Alex would probably announce that he’d be Tate’s best man someday.
Halfway up, she spotted Jingles, galloping toward her with his tail wagging.
“Jingles, what are you doing out here?” Amanda bent down to pet her furry friend who now sported a doggie red sweater, identical to the one her mother had on. The Christmas tree covered his entire fury backside. “Seriously? Did Mom put this on you?” She straightened up. “Doesn’t anyone in this family get today off?” She laughed. “All right, Jingles. Where to next?”
As if he understood her question, the Jack Russell sprinted back up the hill toward her dad’s office, a smaller log cabin to the right of the main house.
“You can run, but you can’t hide from Christmas,” she yelled. “Or apparently my mother,” she muttered and followed Jingles to see if her dad needed any help.
“Dad, are you in here?” she called out, opening the door to the office.
“Amanda? Just putting on my Christmas sweater. Be right out,” her father said, emerging seconds later from the back room. His sweater matched her mother’s—and Jingles’s—perfectly.
“I see you’ve put on your uniform.” Amanda grinned.
“Your mother works very hard all year knitting these. Says it puts the volunteers in the holiday spirit.” He patted his stomach. “There’s a size small for you on the desk. What size is Tate?”
“I don’t know.” She paused. She should probably know what size her boyfriend was. “I mean, a large should fit him just fine. He has a thing for sweaters with Christmas trees on them. ”
“You don’t say? Terrific. It took us three years to get Brad to wear one. Remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” Another sign he wasn’t the one. She sighed. “I met Melanie last night.”
“This is probably a little awkward for you.” Jack began to pack his duffle bag. “Isn’t it?”
“Just a little.” She fiddled with her scarf. “But I understand why they are staying with you.”
“Yes, well, they’ll get back on their feet soon enough.” He pulled on his gloves and adjusted his cap. “Tate seems like a nice fella. At least your grandmother thinks so.”
“She sure does,” Amanda agreed.
“How long have you been dating?”
Amanda cringed inside. She hated lying to her father. “Since June.”
“How come you’ve never mentioned him before?”
“We’re keeping it quiet for now. Our colleagues don’t even know.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re home this weekend, kiddo. We’ve missed having you.”
“It’s nice to be home,” she said.
“It’s great to have the whole family together to celebrate the new baby. Hopefully we’ll make it to the hospital at some point today to say hello. Your mother made a tiny sweater for the little one.”
“Of course she did,” Amanda said, picking up her father’s delivery roster from his desk and studying the document. “Hey, Dad, why are the Martins on the list? Aren’t they one of the wealthiest families in town?”
“Aw, the Martins. Correction. They were one on of the wealthiest families. Unfortunately they lost everything two years ago in a Ponzi scheme, and Mr. Martin was diagnosed last month with pancreatic cancer.”
“Oh, my. That’s awful.” Amanda handed her dad his roster.
“Indeed. It’s been a tough year all around for them. The family just didn’t have it in them to celebrate the holidays this year. But they called yesterday to see if they could get a tree.”
“I’m glad. I really love what you do for these families, but the constant struggles some of them still go through is just heartbreaking. Wouldn’t it be great if for one year—just one year—you didn’t need to give any trees away, or even if the list was cut in half?”
“Today can be tough. No doubt about it. But there’s almost always a silver lining. I like to think we’re not in the Christmas tree business on this day but in the possibilities business. We give families the hope that things are going to get better, and for one day, we give them the strength to concentrate on what they have and not focus on the twists and turns that have brought them to this fleeting moment in time. What is that old saying? ‘This too shall pass.’”
“Well said, Dad. I should interview you for a story.”
Her father chuckled. “I think we should leave the camera to you. You’re much prettier.”
Amanda laughed with her dad then grew serious. “You’re right though. Getting through today and tomorrow can’t be easy for these families we help. I still remember like yesterday the time when I was, oh, gosh, maybe ten. You and I had just finished with the deliveries and stopped at a gas station, I think, in Hammondsport.”
He nodded. “Could have been.”
“You were helping a woman in a station wagon with directions? Her son was leaning against their station wagon. I couldn’t remember ever seeing someone so incredibly sad on Christmas Eve.”
She walked over to the office window and peered out. “You know what was so strange? I didn’t know what caused his pain, but I felt it, too. It was as if it was going straight through me. It was bizarre. I mean, I didn’t even know him, but I would have done anything that night to make his hurt go away.” She turned around and shrugged. “I guess it just broke my heart that he was so sad during the holidays.”
Her father came over and patted her shoulder. “I remember that night. Dear, you feel things you see very deeply. You always have. We suspect that compassion is why you became a reporter.”
Amanda nodded in agreement. “It was. But I don’t know. Something changed along the way. I feel so disconnected from those emotions lately.”
“Well, maybe those feelings will come back this weekend. I remember something else about that day.”
“That I was wearing stone washed jeans and really ugly legwarmers?” She wiggled her nose.
“No.” He chuckled. “I remember you asking me if you could give that boy the box of Christmas cookies your mom had made for us as a snack. From that moment on, we have always given out our cookies on this day. A wonderful tradition that you started.”
“It always comes back to the cookies,” Amanda exclaimed. “You know what? That night I learned the guarded secret ingredient from you, but I never told Mom that I knew.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “Shoot. Look at the time. I guess I should go back to the house and report for duty.”
“Yes. No doubt your mother has given her volunteers their marching orders.”
“I’m sure she has.” She laughed and peered out the window again. She could see Alex and Tate near her dad’s truck. “What the . . .” Her voice trailed off as she watched Tate attempting to tie a tree with his bare hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She turned around abruptly and moved away from the window. “Looks like the guys are almost done loading the trees. Hey, do you have a pair of work gloves you could loan Tate?”
“Why, yes. Alex should have an extra pair in his glove compartment. Don’t tell me he’s been preparing the trees without gloves? Why, they have to be almost done by now.”