Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

HUDSON

M y mind drifts as I drive the tractor for the hayride around the field.

Is it possible that Lucas is serious about dating Emma? Is it possible Emma is into him?

Both scenarios seem plausible. They're close in age, and my brother carries no emotional baggage. No children from a previous relationship. He hardly dates and is still friends with every single ex-girlfriend of his.

Lucas would be a good match for her.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, recalling how close our mouths were when she straddled me. It was payback for almost crossing the line with her again. Like a siren of the sea, she beckons me into her murky depths, pulling me under with her.

I'm acutely aware of the emotional damage I could cause her. Claire would never forgive me if I hurt her baby sister.

The tour guide, Susie Lynn, speaks excitedly into a microphone as she shares facts about the farm. Her high-pitched voice jolts me out of my thoughts. But as I scan the distance, I realize Lucas is late.

When the farm truck finally pulls into the parking lot, he's alone. His hair is a mess, as if someone has been running their hands through it. I clench my teeth at the thought.

Once the tractor comes to a complete stop, I cut the engine. The next tour begins in ten minutes. As soon as Lucas approaches, he smirks.

“How was lunch?” I ask, extending my palm.

“She was great,” he replies, his cockiness evident as he wipes the corner of his mouth. He places the keys in my hand, and I grip them tightly.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, frustration creeping into my voice.

“Doing what?” He feigns innocence.

“You're faking it,” I say. “It's obvious.”

I wait for him to confirm or deny it, but Lucas is unpredictable. The truth is, I have no idea what's happening between them right now, but Jake also believed this was just an act.

“You can have her when I'm done,” he says.

“Don't disrespect her,” I warn.

“Just admit you're into Emma, and I'll back off,” Lucas says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Absolutely not,” I retort.

“Fine.” He flashes a cocky grin that I find infuriating. “Emma chooses who she wants, and until she does, she’s fair game.”

I laugh at him as if he’s lost his mind. “I'm not competing with you.”

“You will,” he singsongs.

My phone buzzes, interrupting the conversation. I roll my eyes at him and focus on the text message, though he stands in front of me, clearly waiting for the discussion to continue.

Mama

I can take Colby this week after pre-school, but only if I can keep him on Saturday night again.

Hudson

You know I don’t like him being gone every Saturday.

Mama

Honey, you need to rest this weekend.

I feel guilty knowing how much my mom worries that Colby is growing up too fast. She said one day, she blinked, and we were men.

Hudson

Let me think about it. I love and appreciate you.

I sigh with relief, knowing she can pick him up after pre-school. It eases some of the pressure and makes this manageable.

Mama

Oh, and I just spoke with Claire and Emma. They looked like they were having fun with Colby. Maybe Emma can be your temporary nanny? And before you give me an excuse, she told me she already offered to help, but you won't let her. Is that true?

I scoff, disbelieving that she told on me.

Hudson

I don't know her. Not happening.

Mama

Claire wouldn’t have her around if she weren’t trustworthy. Emma can stay with him at your house instead of being stuck working beside you all season. Let him be a kid, especially while he still believes.

Hudson

Can we talk about this later? I gotta get back to work.

Mama

Sure, honey. Have a good day!

“What's with that face?” Lucas asks.

“Nothing,” I reply, drawn back to earlier today when I saw Emma with Colby.

I wondered how differently my life could have turned out. I envisioned our future so vividly that it felt like déjà vu.

“You make everything so much harder than it needs to be. Live in the moment,” Lucas tells me. “Take advantage of right now.”

“You'll understand my decisions once you have kids, okay? Everything I choose affects him, and I have to prioritize his best interests.”

I still can’t tell if he's trying to win over Emma's heart or trying to convince me to do the same.

“Did she follow you on Instagram?” I ask as he walks away. It's almost time for the next tour to begin.

“She deactivated her account. She said she was going on a hiatus to think. See you at the tree lighting ceremony.”

“I'll be there.” I move toward the truck, wishing I understood Emma. When I think I have her pegged, she does the unexpected. Social media is her entire identity, so I never imagined she could switch it off.

As I climb into the truck's cab, the sweet scent of her perfume lingers in the air. It's utterly intoxicating. I back out of the driveway, kicking up rocks as I turn onto the main road. She’s the only thing on my mind.

Three hours later, I meet up with my dad, who still has a long line of kids waiting to sit on his lap. Today, he's wearing a special Santa suit adorned with golden jingle bells. Whenever he's jolly, he jingles, and it’s impossible not to smile.

He’s the official Santa Claus of Merryville. It wouldn't be Christmas without him. Colby knows his grandfather is Santa, which is why he behaves his best around my parents. After all, Santa is always watching.

As the sun sets behind the horizon, I join Jake and Lucas. The crowd has gathered around the dark tree. They perk up when they see me making my way through the crowd. Before I take the stage, I search for my son.

I step up to make myself visible and whistle over the chatter. Scanning the crowd, I spot Colby waving at me from on top of a picnic table.

“I'm over here!” he yells. Then I notice Emma beside him. Our eyes lock, and I see her chewing on her bottom lip. An electric current passes between us, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away.

I force myself to look away from her.

“Come on,” Jake says to Colby, motioning for him to hurry.

My son jumps off the table and sprints through the crowd, parting it as he calls out, “Excuse me!” repeatedly.

When he's close, I scoop him in my arms and squeeze him. “There you are! Did you have a good day?”

“Yes! I had so much fun!” he replies, beaming with chocolate smudged on his cheek.

“Are we ready now?” Lucas asks, and we each nod in agreement.

This has become a cherished family tradition every year since we were kids. Being with my brothers and continuing this ritual means more to me than they will ever know.

“Is everyone ready?” Lucas yells out to the crowd.

“Yes!” they respond as a cymbal roll begins behind us. The band is queued and ready to play “All I Want for Christmas.” We chose this song when we were kids, and it has stayed with us. When we're eighty, we’ll probably still hire a cover band to play Mariah Carey’s classic song.

“On the count of three!” Jake shouts into the microphone.

The crowd cheers, every face lit up with a smile.

“Three, two, one!”

Lucas flips the switch, and the sparkly lights flood the tree, illuminating it in red, green, and white. The lights glitter as they ripple up and down the tree, dancing to the music.

The lead singer begins, and the crowd erupts in cheers.

Happiness washes over me, filling me with joy. I did it.

I officially launched one of the most successful Season's Greetings in the farm's history.

“Make a wish,” I say to Colby, who beams at me, his dimples deepening.

He looks up at the tree, his face aglow with bright white light. “Okay, I made my wish. Your turn, Daddy.”

I glance back at the crowd, and my eyes settle on Emma.

“I just did.”

“Hope it comes true,” he tells me.

A smile crosses my lips. “Me too, Bee. Me too.”

He hugs me tightly, and I hold him close. Despite my challenging circumstances, I feel incredibly lucky and grateful for this.

After a few more holiday songs, the event ends, and the crowd starts to disperse, heading to their vehicles. In the distance, I hear car doors slamming and engines revving. Colby falls asleep on my chest as I carry him home, and I smile, knowing the girls must have worn him out today. Admittedly, I’m exhausted, too.

Behind me, laughter echoes. I glance over my shoulder and see Claire and Emma giggling like teenagers tipsy on strawberry wine.

“Did you have fun?” Claire asks. “Tell the truth.”

“More than I'd like to admit,” Emma replies. “I'm just... happy. Excited.”

I grin, unable to resist eavesdropping. Their voices carry through the forest, and they don’t notice me ahead of them.

“Did you have fun with Lucas?” Claire asks quietly.

“Yeah, I did. Did you know he’s in love with his best friend’s sister?”

“No. What’s her name?”

“Not sure,” Emma admits.

Lucas would never utter her name aloud. He’s superstitious about it because Holiday always shows up whenever he mentions her.

“And who are you in love with?” Claire asks.

“Life.”

I chuckle, and they immediately quieten.

“Who's there?” Emma asks.

“Shh,” I hiss.

“Hudson?” Claire whispers when she’s right behind me, tiptoeing through the woods.

“If you wake him...” I mutter as Colby's arms and legs flop against me. He's sound asleep, breathing deeply and steadily.

When we reach the clearing by my house, I walk up the back steps of the porch. The two of them continue down the path toward Jake's.

“Good night,” Emma whispers.

“Night,” I reply, carefully unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Thanks for everything today.”

“You’re welcome,” Claire says.

My heart feels lodged in my throat as I remove my boots and ascend the stairs to Bee's room. His pediatrician advised me to let him sleep during these times and to expect more rest when he's experiencing growth spurts.

I gently place him on his bed, carefully removing his hat, shoes, and pants. Then, I pull the fluffy blankets over him and tuck him in.

“Goodnight, Bee,” I whisper, flicking on the lamp beside his bed. It has helped ease his fear of sleeping alone in his room, and now it has become a comforting routine.

I head downstairs and pour myself a glass of whiskey. The leftovers from Friday are waiting for me on the fridge’s top shelf. As I pop them in the microwave, my phone buzzes.

Unknown

Hudson Jolly, did you seriously program yourself into my phone as Lumberjack Daddy?

I burst into laughter, nearly spilling the whiskey across the bar top. I quickly save her number.

Hudson

Guess you found me.

Emma

Took over thirty minutes.

Emma

I'm really sorry about what happened earlier.

Hudson

Why?

Emma

Can we have this conversation in person?

I glance down at her text, then down the double shot of whiskey. After some liquid courage, I type the first thing that comes to mind.

The microwave beeps, breaking my concentration.

My brother always tells me to live in the moment. Should I send it? I know the implications. I stare at the text for over a minute, the cursor blinking insistently. Finally, I hit send.

Hudson

You know where I live.

Fuck it.