Page 19 of Merry Little Sugar Rush
“How you can eat like that is beyond me,” Gram mutters, shaking her head.
“I had to eat fast when we were younger or Klint would have taken my food,” I retort. Klint had a huge appetite when we were kids, always eating twice as much as the rest of us. How he doesn’t weigh twice as much as he does is still unknown.
Gram laughs hard. “That boy could sure eat, right? He ate everything that wasn’t nailed down,” she teases, taking my bowl off the table.
“I can rinse it,” I state. “You don’t have to pick up after me.”
She just grins that grandmotherly little smile I remember from my childhood. “Hush, boy. I haven’t seen you in a few years, so if I want to take care of you, I will.”
It was more than a few years, but who’s counting…
“Thank you for lunch,” I tell her, meeting her at the sink and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“You’re very welcome. Now, go so you can help that pretty young woman with her tree selection,” Gram says, and by the gleam in her eyes, she knows exactly who I’m off to assist. “Tell Joy I said hello.”
“I will,” I reply, moving to the door so I can put on my winter clothes and boots. “Tell Gramps I said hello too.”
“As soon as he moves to the rehab facility, he would love a visit.”
Again, my throat gets a little tight from emotion. “I’d like that.”
“Good,” she replies, reaching for a hand towel and swinging it at me. “Now, go. Help Joy with her tree.” She throws in a wink for good measure before returning her attention to the dishes in the sink.
I quickly go to the garage and redress before heading out to the UTV. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little extra spring in my step—or a little extra speed in my drive—as I make my way to the barn. Parking the utility vehicle, I smile the moment I see Joy over by her dad and walk that way.
“Hey,” I say as I approach.
“Hi. Sorry to interrupt your lunch,” Joy replies.
“You’re fine. Gram just made me eat before she went to the hospital to visit Gramps.”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Ray announces, leaning in and kissing his daughter on the cheek before patting me on the back. He takes off toward the pay hut to help the next customer, leaving us alone.
“I expected your dad to help you pick your tree,” I tell her as we make our way to retrieve one of the sleds.
“Umm, he told me it would be easier if you did it.”
I stop walking and just look at her. “What?”
Joy shrugs and chuckles. “Honestly, I think this was his way of, well, like, putting us…together.”
A huge smile stretches my lips. I knew I liked that man. “Well, I’m happy to help cut it down and then deliver it to your house.”
“If you don’t have time, we can just throw it in the bed of Dad’s truck and I can take it to my apartment, like I had planned.”
Reaching the rope of one of the remaining sleds, I say, “No, you’re fine. I only took about ten minutes of lunch time, so it’s no big deal to help you get it into your place.”
“If you’re sure,” she says, falling in line beside me as we head toward the sections of trees available to cut down. “You’re pretty busy today.”
I nod. “They were lined up when I got up here to open the gate.”
“Dad always says this weekend and the one right before Christmas are the busiest, and that’s always weird to me. I mean, why wait until right before the holiday to decorate a tree? You’re missing out on so many nights of prime tree light enjoyment.”
I have to grin, because of course she would feel that way. I’m surprised she doesn’t have her tree up before now, if I’m being honest. But I suppose she already has one in her bakery to enjoy all day long. “I’ll take your word for it,” I state, thinkingback to my small house back in South Carolina and the lack of a Christmas tree over the last few years.
She stops walking, halting my own progress. “Burkey Turkey, I need to ask you a very important question, and I need you to be one-hundred-percent honest with me.”
The corner of my mouth ticks. “Of course.”
