7. Jared

7

JARED

T he next day, Jared was up as early as always.

He ran out to see if there was anything that needed doing on the farm, but things were pretty well handled, as usual in the wintertime. He was finished with his outside tasks in time to help his mother with breakfast.

Derek was already there, washing dishes as fast as Mom could dirty them. He and Jared nodded to each other in greeting.

"You know you don't have to cook," Jared told Mom as he put a tray of biscuits in the oven. "There's going to be so much food later today. We could all just have toast now."

"I like keeping busy," Mom said, smiling as she lightly stirred the sausage that was browning in the pan. "Besides, wouldn't you rather have biscuits and gravy than toast?"

" Yes ," Dad crowed as he came up from downstairs. "I'd rather have biscuits and gravy than anything. "

He jogged over to Mom and kissed her cheek, and, like always, she giggled like a schoolgirl.

Jared smiled and looked away. He used to love it when Mom and Dad were cute like that, but lately it was feeling more and more like a reminder that he'd never have something like that of his own.

He'd never really cared before, but there was something eating at him lately.

It's because you're playing house every day with that pretty schoolteacher and her boy…

He didn't like to admit to himself how much he enjoyed Cora's company, or the way it felt when Sylvester asked him a string of wild questions and then listened carefully to his answers like he was the smartest man in Trinity Falls.

Maybe he wouldn't mind being a family man. He never felt restless at Cora's house. There was plenty to stay busy with, and not just fixing things. And he really liked talking with the two of them.

Plus, Cora was getting more comfortable with him. He could tell. She wasn't as uptight as he had originally thought, even if she was a teacher. It was mostly just that she was protective over Sylvester because he had asthma.

The pot of poinsettias on the table suddenly caught his eye.

"Hey, Ma," he said. "Would it be okay for me to put the flowers out on the porch, just for today? I don't want Sylvester's allergies acting up."

"Oh, sure, honey," Mom said, shrugging. "They'll be just as pretty out there."

"Thanks," he said, grabbing them quickly and heading out of the kitchen, trying to ignore the look his brother was giving him.

It was cold outside, but the sun was bright. He placed the poinsettias on the porch table, and just as Mom had said, they looked gorgeous there.

On his way back in, he noticed a bowl of potpourri on the foyer table. He grabbed it too, and headed back outside.

"No potpourri either?" Derek asked quietly from behind him. He must have followed Jared out.

"Better not to risk it," Jared said, nodding.

By the time the two of them got back in, their houseguests were awake.

"Smells amazing," Jane said, leading her toddler, Jackie to the family room, where a few of his toys were waiting for him in a basket.

"How can I help?" Luis asked.

"The food is just about ready to go," Mom said. "But you can set the table, if you'd like."

"I'll just run down and turn off the basement lights," Dad said.

"Don't track up any sawdust," Jared heard himself say.

"Goodness," Mom said.

"Someone's nervous that his girlfriend is coming over," Derek teased.

"She's not my girlfriend," Jared corrected him quickly. "Don't even tease about that when she's here, or you'll scare her off. And I'm only worried about setting off Sylvester's allergies. If he reacts to anything in the house at all, she won't let him have a real Christmas tree. And he really wants one. I can tell. "

"Don't worry, love," Mom said with a funny little smile. "After breakfast, you and I will go over this house with a fine-tooth comb. We'll make sure there's not a speck of dust or anything else that could interfere with that little boy's Christmas."

He strode over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pressing his lips to the crown of her head.

"You're the best," he whispered.

"Just tell me what else we need to do," she said quietly. "I have a feeling today might be a very important day."

"She's just a friend, Ma," he told her, pulling back to make sure she understood.

But she just smiled and stirred her gravy.

The next few hours passed quickly, as they always did on tree-decorating day.

Dad and Derek carried boxes of ornaments down from the attic, while Jared and Lucy sat at the dining room table inspecting them to be sure none were broken. This year they were joined by Lucy's husband, Ashton, who was plugging in the strands of lights and replacing the burnt-out bulbs as he checked for frayed wires and loose connections.

Mom and Josh were in the kitchen, getting started on the oatmeal raisin cookies with Josh's daughter, Scout. Josh hadn't been home to do his part with the cookies in years, and it was clear how pleased Mom was to have her helper back—two helpers now. And soon Brody and Caroline would be over with two more.

Friends of Mom's, Betty Ann and Shirley, as well as Ginny, who he'd seen yesterday, were sitting at the small table in the family room, sewing decorations onto a new felt skirt for the tree. Every year, the three of them did a little project to add to the Christmas cheer.

There was a gentle knock on the front door, and Jared shot out of his seat before anyone else could answer it. There was only one person who would bother to knock today. When he opened it, he found Cora, looking a little nervous, with a smiling Sylvester by her side.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it," Jared told them. "Come on in."

His mother joined them in the entryway, wiping her hands on her Christmas apron.

"Thanks for coming," she said. "I'm Leticia."

"Cora and Sylvester," Cora said, smiling. "We were so happy to be invited. Sylvester has allergies and asthma, so it's possible that we'll have to leave in a hurry, but it won't be because of your hosting."

"Well, I hope you're not allergic to oatmeal cookies, young man," Mom said, bending down. "Because my granddaughter and I are baking up a bunch, and we could use some help."

"I love baking cookies," Sylvester squeaked.

"Right this way, then," Mom said with a big smile.

Jared and Cora watched after them.

"She's so nice," Cora said. "He's usually a little shy with new people, but I think he would have followed her to the moon. "

"She had lots of kids herself," Jared said. "And she was really excited to meet him. I guess I talk about him a lot."

Suddenly he realized that might be a weird thing to say about someone else's child. He glanced down at her, but she was smiling up at him, her gray eyes twinkling.

"He talks about you all the time too," she said.

Suddenly he was lost in those eyes, like drifting clouds before a summer storm. Time seemed to stand still and he wondered if she could hear the thunderous beat of his heart.

Quick footsteps on the hardwood floor had them both stepping back slightly.

"Oh, hi, I'm Lucy," his sister said as she jogged for the stairs, clutching her baby monitor. "My daughter just woke up, but we'll get to know each other once I've got her downstairs."

"Nice to meet you," Cora called after her. "She seems so familiar."

"She works at the Co-op Grocer's," Jared said. "If you shop there, you've probably seen her."

"Oh, of course," Cora said, smiling. "She offered to show us around the store on our first visit."

"That's my sister," he said, shaking his head. "She was always the sweetest thing, and we were all so protective of her. It's strange to think of her as a wife and a mom."

Jared closed his mouth, wondering why he had told her all that. He wasn't normally so sentimental about his siblings.

"It must be so wonderful to have brothers and sisters," Cora said, not seeming to think it was the least bit strange that he had shared with her. "My older sister was so much older that she was practically out of the house by the time I was old enough to appreciate her. I always wished my parents had been blessed with more kids. My mom wanted it too, I think. But they spoil Sylvester rotten now when they see him."

A cloud moved across her face at the mention of her parents.

"You miss them," he guessed.

"I do," she admitted. "I think they always wished I'd move back home to Ohio, but coming here to Ginny felt right."

"Maybe they'll move here one day," he offered.

"You know what's funny?" she asked, her eyes flashing up to his again. "My mom started looking at houses online with me when I was looking for a place here. And she just sent me one last night, a little two-bedroom house near the village. I almost fainted. I can't imagine them leaving Ohio, but my grandparents are gone now, and I guess maybe they could sell the house and come out this way. It's a little more expensive here, but they don't need a big house anymore, and my sister never had kids… sorry. Now who's going on and on?"

"I love hearing about your family," Jared told her honestly. "Do you really think they might come to Trinity Falls?"

"Who knows?" she said. "But with Sylvester here, and both of us so happy, it could happen."

"You're happy here?" he asked her, stepping closer again without meaning to.

"I don't know," she said softly. "It just feels like home."

Something was buzzing between them again. He felt a pull in his chest like the one he'd felt that first night he passed her house and seen the warmth of the lights in the windows.

She gazed up at him, those pretty gray eyes wide, as if she were feeling the same mysterious pull he was.

"Here we go, Kaylee," Lucy's voice floated down the stairs. "Let's go decorate the tree."

Jared stepped back quickly, feeling grateful for his little sister. He had no idea what kept coming over him. He definitely didn't have feelings for Cora. It was just that he seemed to go a little hazy when he got too close to her.

"Want to see the tree?" he asked her without risking eye contact again.

"Of course," she told him. "Lead the way."

He headed back to the living room, where his dad was just starting up the little motor on the tree stand.

"What's that?" Cora asked, instantly fascinated.

"Oh, it's just a fun little contraption I put together when the kids were little," Dad told her with a fond smile. "I've improved on the model a few times since then."

"What does it do?" she asked.

"Hopefully, it will slowly rotate the tree, so that all the decorations show," he told her. "Most of our decorations were made by our kids and grandkids. And it hardly seems fair for anyone's beautiful creations to be on the back of the tree. This will let us show off all the decorations."

"Amazing," Cora said, immediately crouching down to have a look at it. "Where did you come up with the idea? "

Dad shot Jared a look and Jared shrugged. She was a schoolteacher, of course she wanted to know how everything worked.

Derek wandered in as Dad talked with Cora about the various prototypes, including the early one that spun the tree so fast the ornaments started flying off. Derek elbowed Jared, and when he looked over, his brother was holding an oatmeal cookie out to him that he must have swiped off the cooling racks.

"You're asking for trouble," Jared whispered, taking it.

The cookie was still warm and it practically melted in his mouth. It was funny how around the holidays you could close your eyes and be ten years old again if you wanted. Some things never changed and never stopped being special.

"Had to do it," Derek whispered back. "Otherwise, Josh will eat them all before we can even get to them."

Those cookies had always been Josh's favorite at Christmastime. Mom had only recruited the grandkids into making them at Thanksgiving this year in honor of the return of the prodigal son.

"How about you, Derek?" Cora said, turning to the two of them.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"I was asking if you ever helped your father with one of his projects," she said with a smile. "He was telling me that each of you had favorite woodworking experiments."

"I wouldn't say I had a favorite," Derek said, smiling faintly.

Cora slipped over to the loveseat and sat quietly, a look on her face like she knew this would be a good story. Too bad for her that Derek seldom told stories, even to his own family. He definitely wouldn't be telling one to her, and definitely not this one.

"Mom made me volunteer for the holiday play one year," Derek said, moving across the room and lowering himself into one of the chairs, close to Cora. "Mrs. Cassidy was directing that year and they didn't have enough boys. Everyone loves Mrs. Cassidy, you'll see."

"Is that Alice, from Cassidy Farm?" Cora asked softly.

"That's her," Derek said, nodding. "So she decided to do a play version of The Nutcracker ."

Jared was surprised to see his usually reserved brother so quick to share with Cora. But he got it. She was so easy to talk to, she was genuinely interested, and she never seemed like she was judging anything you said.

"Were you the nutcracker prince?" Cora asked, sounding impressed.

"No, thank God," he said. "I was the rat king. It was the perfect part for me. He's only in one scene and he's got a full costume including a big headpiece, so no one could see me."

Jared lowered himself onto the sofa wordlessly, completely involved in the story. This was one that he usually ended up telling. It was a nice change to hear it from his brother for once.

"Plus he has a great fight scene," Cora said, nodding.

"I didn't get the part for those reasons though," Derek said. "I got it because Dad invented the contraption that made the Christmas tree look like it's growing bigger and bigger right before the fight."

"No one else could make that thing work," Dad put in proudly. "It was a little finicky, But Derek was great with it because he helped me build it."

"Amazing," Cora said. "Mrs. Cassidy was lucky to have your family around."

"Maybe don't say that yet," Jared said, chuckling.

"How well do you know the story of The Nutcracker ?" Derek asked Cora.

"Pretty well," she said, frowning. "We used to go see the ballet at the local theater every year when I was a girl."

"Well, the tree grows right before the rats come out," Derek said. "We had it down in rehearsal, but the night of the performance, it gave me some trouble."

"It was a sort of accordion design," Dad put in. "But sometimes it would stick a little."

"We think maybe the smoke machine made the wood swell a little," Derek said. "Or maybe the extra heat from the audience. But I guess it doesn't matter why it happened. I ended up having to take off the rat headpiece and climb up there to try and get it unstuck."

"The whole tree was almost like a cone with five parts that lifted out of each other," Dad said fondly. "The design flaw was that on that raked stage, they wanted to rotate and there was nothing to stop them."

"Raked stage?" Cora echoed.

"Slanted," Dad said, holding his hand up, tilted slightly to demonstrate. "Supposed to help the audience see it all better."

"While I was up there, the top of the tree swung around," Derek said, shaking his head. "That put me right in front of the audience, clinging to the tree without my headpiece, and no way to get back down, because the ladder was in back. They couldn't see me in the tech booth, and so the lights came up pretty much immediately."

Cora covered her mouth with her hand, her gray eyes dancing.

"From the audience," Jared put in. "I think it's only fair to tell you that his eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and he just blinked at all of us in total terror, even though we were all his friends and family."

That was too much, and a giggle escaped from behind Cora's hand.

"It's okay to laugh," Derek said. "It only gets funnier. Because I was busy clinging to the top of the tree like a koala bear, so that meant there was no rat king. The girl playing Clara just stood onstage waiting, and not understanding why everyone was gasping and giggling at her."

"Oh, no," Cora said, but she was chuckling along with everyone else now.

"That Amanda Luckett's one tough cookie," Dad proclaimed. "Another girl might have been scarred for life."

"Anyway," Derek said. "Our baby sister saved the day. Lucy was one of Mother Ginger's children, the littlest kids in the whole play, but she found my headpiece backstage, put it on, and trotted out there, ready to rumble. She knew my whole fight. She loved that stuff, so she'd been practicing it with me for weeks."

"Amanda Luckett had to fight a two-foot-tall rat king," Jared said, laughing. "It was lose-lose, either she won a fight against a tiny little kid, or she lost to a baby. And by then, the audience was in tears from laughing so hard."

"But Amanda didn't miss a beat, she just jumped right in," Derek said, shaking his head in admiration.

"And at least it was easier to hit Lucy with the shoe," Jared pointed out. "Since she was so short."

"Either way, best Nutcracker I've ever seen," Dad said, slapping his thigh. "Hands down."

Cora laughed along with him and so did Derek, surprising Jared with the deep belly laugh he usually only let out around family. He had honestly never seen Derek open up like this around someone outside the Webb circle.

Is she like this with her students?

He found himself wondering if maybe he'd had her wrong all along. What if she was one of those needle-in-a-haystack teachers, like the few who had given him the benefit of the doubt, and tried to encourage him in spite of his reputation.

He thought of Mrs. Brandt, who had been tough but fair, and how she had told him more than once that he was a good boy and that he only needed to focus on staying in his seat.

"What are you smiling about?" Derek teased him suddenly, pulling him out of his daydreams.

"Nothing, rat king," Jared teased back. "Scuttle back up your tree."

As they laughed, Mom came in with a plate of cookies, with the kids trailing after her.

Derek grabbed for them, and Jared darted after him.

He was too late. His brother had the plate in his hands, so Jared grabbed Derek around the shoulders and rubbed his knuckles on his head, giving him a wicked noogie, until his hair stood straight up, like they'd done to each other about a thousand times growing up.

The kids melted with laughter.

"That's enough, boys," Mom scolded good-naturedly. "You're going to drop the cookies, or make poor Cora think we're an uncivilized house full of hooligans."

"What's a hooligan?" Scout piped up.

"It's a troublemaker," Sylvester told her right away.

"How did you know that?" Scout demanded.

"From a book," Sylvester said, shrugging.

"I don't know that a single noogie makes me a troublemaker," Jared said, letting his brother go before giving him a pat on the shoulder and swiping another cookie. "Especially when it was on a deserving cookie thief."

"What's a noogie?" Sylvester asked.

"It's that thing he did to his hair," Scout told him before Jared could answer.

"How did you know that ?" Sylvester asked her.

"Not from a book, I bet," Scout said, then started giggling.

Sylvester started giggling too, and even Mom shook her head with a smile on her face.

"Time to start decorating," she said briskly.

Everyone began carrying in ornaments and setting the boxes on the floor by the tree.

The room was filled with the scent of pine needles and oatmeal cookies, and the sounds of his family, happily joking and exclaiming over their favorite ornaments .

This was the Webbs at their best. He was so glad Cora and Sylvester could be here for it. And Sylvester seemed to be doing just fine with everything. There hadn't been so much as a sneeze since they arrived.

He glanced over to see what Cora thought of it all.

She sat perfectly still on the loveseat, gazing at the people gathered around the tree. Her eyes were dreamy and a little moist.

It hit him in that moment that while his Christmas memories were all joyful scenes of his childhood, her memories of Christmases past might always bring a little sadness with them. She had lost the person she loved the most.

And unlike the quick justice of a stolen cookie for Jared, or the slow unfurling of a shy demeanor for Derek, Cora's wounds could never be fully healed.

Looking at her, he suddenly felt small and insignificant in the face of the ocean of her loss.

And although it seemed crazy, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to spend a lifetime making her feel better, if that's what it took.