Page 13 of Postmarked December

Heather zipped her coat up to her chin with a shiver. She’d hoped for snow today, but the weather was a bit too warm to make it happen. Not warm enough, however, to keep her from freezing to death. She’d finished a cup of cider half an hour ago, and the warmth it had given her was long gone. But at least tonight they’d have their first-ever tree as husband and wife.

They got to the top of the hill and found the most gorgeous tree right way. It was tall enough to have prominence under their high ceiling and full enough to take over the corner where she’d planned to put it.

“That’s the one,” she said excitedly.

Toby bent down and began to saw, back and forth, as the wind howled.

Heather hopped up and down to keep the blood moving in her ice-cold body.

After a while, Toby righted himself. “Uh… There’s a problem.” He pointed to the trunk.

The courtesy saw they’d been given when they’d paid the entry fee had supposedly been “more than enough” when Toby asked if it could do the job, it being smaller than he’d expected. The attendant had assured them that it was sufficient for every tree on the lot.

She bent down to take a look. The saw hadn’t even made a dent. “I guess the guy didn’t know what kind of tree we’d be looking for.” She covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.

“It’s a twenty-minute walk back to the main building. We’re closer to our car than another saw,” he said.

“Well, either we walk back and get another saw, or we find a smaller tree.”

Then, the sky opened and a cold rain fell in buckets. Heather squealed, flapping her arms, unsuccessfully shielding her head from the deluge.

“Let’s get any tree this saw will cut!” Toby called.

He ran around trying different trunks until he finally found a wood that was soft enough to give way to the blade. As the rain poured around them, he worked until the tree cracked and toppled over. Then, with haste, he picked it up by the trunk, and they dragged it down the hill to where they’d parked. He ran the saw inside and didn’t bother to challenge the attendant.

It took both of them to get the muddy tree on top of the car. Rain soaked the ground, and Heather’s boots sank in the mud, making her slip.

Toby quickly strapped it down, and they scrambled inside the vehicle. Both of them burst out laughing between their shivers and chattering teeth.

Then, out of nowhere, Toby put his soaking wet, freezing hands on her face, drew her in, and kissed her. “It’s going to be a perfect Christmas,” he said.

“That stupid tree curved to the left, and the ornaments kept sliding off it the whole Christmas season,” she told Marion, wiping a runaway tear that slid down her cheek. “But it was ours.” She stared at the note. “No one knows that story either.”

“Could Toby have told someone?” Marion asked.

“I can’t imagine a single instance where he would. Those memories were like little treasures to him, and he kept them all to himself.”

“Where’s the tree lot? The note says there’s something there for you.”

“It’s on the edge of Leiper’s Fork—about fifteen minutes away.”

Marion put the car in gear. “Let’s go.”

They were quiet as Marion followed the navigation on her phone to get them to the tree farm. The whole way, Heather moved between utter shock that this was happening, to emotional instability whenever the memories came flooding back. She took long, deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm.

The snow had thinned, making it easy for Marion’s little car to get down the winding roads. But Heather couldn’t get the idea out of her head that she’d wanted snow that day she and Toby had come to the tree lot, and today, she’d gotten it. While she thought he could walk on water when he was alive, she doubted very seriously that he could manipulate the weather from heaven. But it had certainly crossed her mind, given what had happened so far that day.

Just as it had been the last time she’d been there, the tree lot’s main building was at the base of the hill, with what seemed to be the same elderly bearded man in denim overalls and a thick coat underneath. Marion parked the car in a spot right out front, and they went up to the open window of the building where a few people were paying to go up the hill to find their tree.

“Make sure you have a sharp saw,” she said to one as they walked by.

They looked her up and down, confused, but nodded politely.

Heather waved to the man in the overalls. “Hi. I’m Heather Hart.” She held up the envelope. “You wouldn’t, by chance, happen to have another one of these waiting for me, would you?”

“Ah, look at that! You showed up.” He brushed his hands on his overalls and turned to the back counter, grabbing another red-and-white envelope. He held it out to her. “The guy just dropped this off for you.”

She looked around. “Just? Is he still here?”