Page 13 of The Naughty List

Sawyer glances over at me with uncertainty. When I nod, he breaks out into a sprint to the barn. As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn back to Meri.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I start. “And for being late.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a mom of two boys,” Meri chuckles. “Sawyer being here isn’t a problem. Neither is you being ‘late’ considering you don’t have a schedule. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Mom to mo—auntie.”

A small lump forms in my throat at Meri’s words. I don’t have any firsthand experience of what it’s like to receive maternal concern, so it’s slightly overwhelming to say the very least.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to,” she continues.

“It’s not that,” I interject, taking a breath before I begin to give her a rundown of my morning. I leave out the little detail about how I’m pretty sure I’m completely failing at this guardian thing and questioning whether or not Sawyer might be better off with someone who knows what they’re doing. When I’ve finished up my recap, I tell her that I’m going to actively look for someone to watch Sawyer on Monday and Tuesday.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says. “I know you have a lot planned for next week so telling you to take the two days off is pointless, but just bring him. I’m sure we can find something for him to do.”

There’s no lecture, no judgment, but also, she doesn’t give me those pitiful sympathy eyes so many people have given me throughout my life. Poor Tillie with the bad mom. Poor Tillie who worked two jobs while going to college because she could barely afford it on her own. Poor Tillie who shopped at the thrift store because she had to not because it’s trendy.

It was a pure stroke of luck that landed me where I am today. After spending two years planning weddings for a local chain hotel, one of the brides I planned for found my personal social media and asked me to plan a surprise party for her mother’s fiftieth birthday. That party turned into two more parties getting booked and from those two parties came a few more. I didn’t consider leaving the stability of the hotel until I was booked out on my own for six months.

The Merry & Bright event is the first one I’ve done since I officially became fully self-employed, so it’s important to not only me, but to my future as an event planner, that I get this right.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

It would certainly make my life easier if I could bring Sawyer. I honestly didn’t even know where to start as far as finding a babysitter for him. Eloise helps out after school, but she has her own life to worry about too.

Shit. Eloise. I still need to call her too.

“Absolutely.” Meri nods. “Now, come on. Let’s go get you some cocoa and a donut.”

As we walk to the barn, the tension that had settled into my jaw slacks. My shoulders fall as the tightly balled muscles begin to loosen. There’s still a long road ahead for me and Sawyer, but it helps knowing my job isn’t on the line anymore. Not that it ever was apparently. Just in my head, I suppose.

But the moment I step into the barn, scanning the area for Sawyer, my stomach twists. Panic fills my chest when he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Sawyer?” I call out. My heart races as I turn back out of the barn. “Has anyone seen my nephew?” I’m not asking anyone in particular. “Brown, shaggy hair. About this tall,” I motion to the air right by my shoulders. “Green jacket, uh, um, I think he had on black jogger sweatpants.”

Tears brim in my eyes when everyone around the room shakes their head. Clara, who had been across the barn setting up her booth for next weekend, is now by my side.

“We’ll find him, Tillie,” she says as she pulls on her coat. “I’ll head toward the caribou.”

Meri nods. “I’m going to call Bennett and tell him to keep an eye out in the trees. He’s out in the lots today. Why don’t you go up to the main house? Go in the back door. Janet will be in the kitchen still. Ask her to keep an eye out. There are unused stables in the back of the house. Check there and then call me. I’ll stay here in case he comes back.”

TWELVE

ELLIOTT

I love my family,I love this farm, and I especially love the festival, but I somehow forget every year how chaotic it gets right around the “one week out” mark. No one would ever get me to admit it out loud, but even I can see that things have been running much smoother this year with Tillie running the show.

After spending the last four days holed up in my cabin, working twelve hour days, I decided I was not in the mood to deal with someone barking orders at me today. Which is why I loaded up the back of Bennett’s truck with all the presents we’d collected for the toy drive so far and brought them to one of the empty stables behind the main house. No one comes back here. The one next to where I set up for the day is used for storage, but this one is basically just where Oreo and Mittens - the farm cats - come to sleep and eat when they’re not chasing down field mice and chipmunks.

I thought I’d have the whole morning to myself to sit in the silence and get these presents wrapped, but I’m only three Barbies in when a boy, no older than ten or eleven, comes strolling into the stable.

“Um, hi?” I say. The tree lots are open for customers, but the main house is so far out of the way. I put the scissors down onto the folding table I brought over from the next stable over. “You lost, bud? Can I help you get back to your parents?”

“I would prefer not,” he laughs. “My aunt works here. Well, kind of. She’s planning some big party the farm is having. I got suspended for punching a kid in the mouth today, so I’m stuck here too.”

Granted, I don’t know much about Tillie, aside from the fact she’s got a smart mouth and a pretty, well, everything, but I definitely didn’t know she was taking care of her nephew. A nephew that gets suspended for punching kids in the mouth nonetheless. That would explain why she was so tightly wound the first few days here though.

“And, why, might I ask, did you punch a kid in the mouth?” I question.

I was preteen boy once too. As you mature, you realize violence is rarely the answer, but learning to navigate that at ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…

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