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Shale opted for a bagel with cream cheese.
And I’d just gone with a coffee since everything on the spread was going to taste like disappointment. I’d rather wait for something better at lunch.
“So, is she going to tell me now?” Barry asked, looking at me as he lifted some pale pancakes dripping in syrup up toward his mouth.
Shale and I shared a look before she shot him a smile.
“We are going to go cut down a Christmas tree!”
I had to admit, the wide-eyed kid-on-Christmas-morning look that Barry had then was worth the nearly five-hour drive.
“Really?” Barry asked.
“Really. It was Junior’s idea,” she added. “For a way for me to make it up to you for getting shot. I even ordered lights and ornaments that should be at Junior’s place by the time we get back, so we can decorate.”
“This is so great,” Barry said, practically bouncing in his seat.
“We have to hit the store first,” Shale told him. “Junior and I need some warmer gear.”
“I think we should go for a Douglas Fir. Or a Balsam Fir,” Barry decided.
“We’ll go for whatever they have on the farm,” I said. I hadn’t thought to look into tree species.
From there, Barry prattled on endlessly, making me wonder how he managed to eat most of his food when he never quit talking.
Then, soon enough, we were checking out of our rooms, and making our way to the store to gather layers: heavy jackets, gloves, hats, and boots. We also stocked up on snacks for the trip back.
Then we were off, finding ourselves on a sprawling tree farm with a welcoming parking lot draped in twinkle lights.
There was an area for pre-cut trees, and I looked a bit enviously at the people who were smart and efficient enough to be queuing up there instead of the cut-your-own line that we were waiting in.
Especially after we had to sign forms and listen to a safety lecture.
I trusted Shale, but as I took the hatchet from Barry, I could picture all the ways that this could go horribly wrong.
I took off ahead, my bigger footsteps creating dents in the snow for Shale to step into.
Barry took up the rear, and Christmas carols filled the air as he put music on his phone. Then he started to sing loudly along.
It wasn’t long before Shale joined in, signing with more and more gusto the further we trudged through the lines of trees.
“What about this one?” I asked when we came to a mostly perfect tree.
“Don’t you see that giant hole in it?” Barry asked, sticking his arm into the very small hole in the tree. “We can do better,” he insisted.
I tried no fewer than ten more times over the next forty minutes.
I was steadily losing hope that any tree would live up to Barry’s standards.
“Why don’t you trudge ahead then?” I suggested, handing him the ax, then falling back to walk beside Shale whose nose and cheeks had gone red from the cold. “How you holding up?” I asked, hooking an arm around her, and pulling her close.
“Freezing,” she admitted. “But it’s pretty out here,” she said, leaning into me.
“Here,” I said, unzipping my coat, and pulling her against me, then wrapping the jacket as far around her as it would go.
“Now I’m gonna make you cold,” she objected even as she buried her face in my chest.
“I can take it,” I assured her.
