every step of the way.
On Saturday, I change outfits five times before leaving for the Christmas tree lot at school. “Sissy, I have an appointment with a client and I’m going to be late if you don’t hurry!” Mom calls from the foot of the stairs.
“I’m hurrying,” I shout, ripping off a sweater, knowing it’s too fancy for a day around tree sap. I jerk on an old sweatshirt, grab my work gloves and a hoodie and rush downstairs.
Who am I kidding? Stu won’t notice unless I show up naked.
“Susanna! Thank goodness you’re here,” Mr. Mendoza calls as I get out of Mom’s car in the crowded parking lot. “You and Stuart are the only ones who’ve shown up so far. Patsy and Nolan and a couple of dads are coming later, but we need help
now.
”
The trees have been set up in rows by type, tied to stakes hammered into the ground. Half the town appears to be wandering through the lot, fingering branches, each in a quest for the perfect tree. “What should I do?”
“Go help Stu unload the truck that came in last night. It’s around back.”
I wave to Mrs. Mendoza, who is wearing a money apron, and hurry around the side of the gym, where a huge semitruck, its back doors wide open, sits in the cold sunlight. I climb the ramp into the truck and discover Stu wrestling with piles of bundled trees, stacked in mounds like cordwood. The scent of fresh evergreens is overpowering. “Hey,” I say. “The cavalry’s here.”
He looks up, red-faced with exertion. “Pretty small army you’re leading.”
“Do you want help, or not?”
He wipes his forehead, walks over and squeezes my upper arm. “Seems strong enough.”
“Ha, ha,” I say, warm all over from his touch. “What’s the plan?”
“You pick up the top of the tree; I’ll lift from the base. We carry it outside, cut the strings, stand it up and shake it out good. Tons of loose needles in them, and Mendoza said the trees have to look fresh if people are going to buy them. Once outside, we’ll lean the trees against the wall.”
“Is that all?”
“Until help arrives. You know…the rest of your cavalry. They can carry the trees to the lot and stake them. It’s a harder job. Serves them right for being late.”
We start working and in an hour have freed and shaken more than forty-five trees. Lined up against the back wall of the gym, they look like a dark green forest. At some point help arrives and Stu and I take a break inside the gym on the basketball court. We fish sodas out of a cooler reserved for us workers.
“You sure you don’t want hot chocolate?” he asks. Pots full of hot water and packets of cocoa and coffee are also available.
“I’m sweating,” I tell him, then regret my self-description. How alluring must
that
sound!
We climb midway up the bleachers, sit and pop open our sodas.
“You doing all right?” he asks.
“The front ends of the trees aren’t very heavy, you know. I can handle the job.”
“That’s not what I’m asking about.” He grows quiet and I stare into his eyes. A girl can drown in his eyes. Suddenly realizing that he isn’t asking about my stamina, I gulp from my soda can. He’s asking me about Briana.
“I’m doing just fine. Honest.”
“You never talk about her. Not to me. Not to Melody either.”
“It’s not something I like talking about.”
“But we’re your friends. In the beginning, you told us plenty.”
I shrug. “Not much to say anymore. The doctors are just waiting for the baby to get big enough to be born.” I don’t add,
And for Bree to die,
but that will happen too.
“Melody says you’re in charge of naming the baby. That you bought a book.”
“I’m just looking up different names and their meanings. We won’t name her until she’s born. Until we see her and all.”
“Melody says you’ve already bought the baby some clothes.”
“Is that all you and Melody do? Sit around and talk about my life?”
My outburst startles him. “No way. And you
On Saturday, I change outfits five times before leaving for the Christmas tree lot at school. “Sissy, I have an appointment with a client and I’m going to be late if you don’t hurry!” Mom calls from the foot of the stairs.
“I’m hurrying,” I shout, ripping off a sweater, knowing it’s too fancy for a day around tree sap. I jerk on an old sweatshirt, grab my work gloves and a hoodie and rush downstairs.
Who am I kidding? Stu won’t notice unless I show up naked.
“Susanna! Thank goodness you’re here,” Mr. Mendoza calls as I get out of Mom’s car in the crowded parking lot. “You and Stuart are the only ones who’ve shown up so far. Patsy and Nolan and a couple of dads are coming later, but we need help
now.
”
The trees have been set up in rows by type, tied to stakes hammered into the ground. Half the town appears to be wandering through the lot, fingering branches, each in a quest for the perfect tree. “What should I do?”
“Go help Stu unload the truck that came in last night. It’s around back.”
I wave to Mrs. Mendoza, who is wearing a money apron, and hurry around the side of the gym, where a huge semitruck, its back doors wide open, sits in the cold sunlight. I climb the ramp into the truck and discover Stu wrestling with piles of bundled trees, stacked in mounds like cordwood. The scent of fresh evergreens is overpowering. “Hey,” I say. “The cavalry’s here.”
He looks up, red-faced with exertion. “Pretty small army you’re leading.”
“Do you want help, or not?”
He wipes his forehead, walks over and squeezes my upper arm. “Seems strong enough.”
“Ha, ha,” I say, warm all over from his touch. “What’s the plan?”
“You pick up the top of the tree; I’ll lift from the base. We carry it outside, cut the strings, stand it up and shake it out good. Tons of loose needles in them, and Mendoza said the trees have to look fresh if people are going to buy them. Once outside, we’ll lean the trees against the wall.”
“Is that all?”
“Until help arrives. You know…the rest of your cavalry. They can carry the trees to the lot and stake them. It’s a harder job. Serves them right for being late.”
We start working and in an hour have freed and shaken more than forty-five trees. Lined up against the back wall of the gym, they look like a dark green forest. At some point help arrives and Stu and I take a break inside the gym on the basketball court. We fish sodas out of a cooler reserved for us workers.
“You sure you don’t want hot chocolate?” he asks. Pots full of hot water and packets of cocoa and coffee are also available.
“I’m sweating,” I tell him, then regret my self-description. How alluring must
that
sound!
We climb midway up the bleachers, sit and pop open our sodas.
“You doing all right?” he asks.
“The front ends of the trees aren’t very heavy, you know. I can handle the job.”
“That’s not what I’m asking about.” He grows quiet and I stare into his eyes. A girl can drown in his eyes. Suddenly realizing that he isn’t asking about my stamina, I gulp from my soda can. He’s asking me about Briana.
“I’m doing just fine. Honest.”
“You never talk about her. Not to me. Not to Melody either.”
“It’s not something I like talking about.”
“But we’re your friends. In the beginning, you told us plenty.”
I shrug. “Not much to say anymore. The doctors are just waiting for the baby to get big enough to be born.” I don’t add,
And for Bree to die,
but that will happen too.
“Melody says you’re in charge of naming the baby. That you bought a book.”
“I’m just looking up different names and their meanings. We won’t name her until she’s born. Until we see her and all.”
“Melody says you’ve already bought the baby some clothes.”
“Is that all you and Melody do? Sit around and talk about my life?”
My outburst startles him. “No way. And you
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