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The Christmas Tree Keeper: A Novel Page 14


  “Of course. I’ve been able to talk to both residents after I talked to Brett. Let me get you those apartment numbers. If you park around by the back entrance, it will be easier to get to building D,” she explained. “And thanks again for what you’ve done.”

  How did she come by the new position? He almost asked her. And what time would she be there? He lost his nerve somewhere between her words “back entrance” and “building D.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  No trouble at all.

  Chapter 21

  Working on Saturday proved to be the only inconvenience of the interim manager position. Thankfully, one of Caroline’s friends invited her to a play day, freeing Angela to tackle the files that needed a thorough reorganizing. Mr. Buckley hadn’t been the most detail oriented manager. Angela reassured Caroline she’d pick her up later and they’d have enough time to get ready for the ballet.

  She opened the rental office and sorted through some mail and paperwork. Her thoughts drifted to Mark Shafer. Had he dropped off the trees to those residents? She couldn’t find a trace that he’d been there. Why did it matter? He has a girlfriend, she chided herself. She listened to the phone messages for distraction. No use. There was only one week until Christmas and that meant dinner at the tree farm.

  Yes, she had agreed to it, but she had no idea what to expect.

  Except food, of course. And Mark.

  Oh this won’t be awkward at all. The things I do for Caroline.

  The office door opened and Angela looked up from her desk. Mark strode in, pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. She sat up straighter.

  “Okay, those trees are put up,” he said.

  “Thank you. I’m sure the families appreciate it.”

  They looked at each other for a moment.

  He’s different—calmer, maybe.

  “So you’re the manager now?” Mark asked. “The way you talked at the farm last week, I thought maybe you weren’t going to stay around here.” He paused. “We’ve had a few changes at the tree farm. I was going to ask—well, no, maybe now isn’t the best time.”

  “I wasn’t planning on this job,” she explained. “Mr. Buckley was fired. But what do you mean? What kind of changes?”

  “Never mind.” He walked back toward the door.

  Say something else.

  She opened her mouth, not sure what was going to come out of it, but before she could speak, Mark turned around.

  “Are you busy tonight?” he asked. “If you’re interested, we could take Caroline to see the lights.”

  My first offer for a real date in a year, and I’m supposed to go the ballet with my mother.

  “Yes, I’d love that. But Caroline is going to the ballet,” she said without any further details.

  “By herself?” Mark asked.

  “No—my mother is taking us. I mean her.”

  “If you have plans, I understand. I thought Caroline would like to see the lights. If she can’t come maybe we could go another time?”

  “Lights are great. We don’t have to tell Caroline what she’s missing.”

  “Okay, then. Can I pick you up at six?”

  “Six fifteen?” she asked in a panic. Mother’s never late, but if he’s early, that could be bad. She may need to recover when she finds out I’m not going.

  “Sure, six fifteen.”

  “How about six twenty?”

  Now I sound like an auctioneer. My chances for a second date are disappearing.

  “There’s no rush. I’ll come at six thirty,” he said and opened the door to leave.

  Angela sat up in her chair and watched him go.

  And then she remembered.

  Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Yes, he has one. What business does he have, asking me on a date? Wait, he suggested the lights for Caroline. What if he’s bringing “Nat”? Oh, what have I done?

  Once home with Caroline, Angela began cooking a simple dinner while she tried to think of what she could tell Caroline. Was she going to be disappointed?

  “There’s been a change of plans tonight,” she said nonchalantly. “I think it would be best for you and Grandma to go to the ballet, just the two of you.”

  “Did you have another fight?” Caroline asked immediately.

  “What? No.” At least, not yet. “I really think it would be better if you had your own time with her, without me.”

  “And Grandma is okay with that?”

  “I think so.”

  I hope so.

  Caroline put on her red velvet Christmas dress, the one Angela had found on clearance the previous year. Angela curled Caroline’s hair and watched the clock, adding up the minutes she’d have left to make herself look presentable before Mark came.

  What will I do if he shows up with Natalie? He wouldn’t. Would he?

  The doorbell rang and Caroline ran to answer it. Angela followed her.

  “Oh, you look beautiful, dear,” Cathy said to Caroline. She glanced at Angela. “You aren’t coming like that, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Hurry, then. How long do you need to clean up?”

  “Uh, I’ve ... I’m not feeling my best. I’d better stay home,” she answered.

  “Well, that’s a disappointment. It doesn’t feel like the flu, does it?”

  “No. That’s not it. I can reimburse you for the ticket.” She bit her lip, knowing mother the tickets weren’t cheap.

  “Nonsense. I’d rather you come, but if you’re not well, by all means get some rest.”

  “We get to have time together, just you and me, Grandma.” Caroline hugged her, and Cathy looked bewildered.

  As soon as they left, Angela raced to her bedroom closet. She had unpacked, but her clothes weren’t as organized as they needed to be so she could find a decent outfit. She tried on two different sweaters and settled on a black and gray turtleneck.

  What difference does it make? This is probably some kind of pity date anyway.

  She ran the flat iron over her hair, not like it wouldn’t be frizzy in 20 minutes. Her mother’s question, “How long do you need to clean up,” rang in her ears. She had applied make-up to one eye when the doorbell rang.

  Great. Give me two seconds.

  She finished the other eye and the doorbell rang again.

  “Coming,” she called.

  When she finally opened the door, she could see relief on Mark’s face. He was more dressed up than the jeans he’d been wearing two hours ago.

  “Hi, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Come on in.”

  He stepped in and she returned to her room and grabbed her coat and purse. She ignored the mirror when she walked by it.

  Nothing I can do about it now.

  “Have you already had dinner?” he asked.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean you—”

  “Neither have I. Let’s get something to eat,” he said.

  Mark opened the passenger door of his BMW for Angela. “Is that a sunflower purse?” he asked. “That’s unique.”

  “Caroline picked it out. She has a better fashion sense than I do, I’m sure.” Fashion and Caroline—what else can we talk about? “This is a nice car.” She said as he started it.

  “Thanks. I’m thinking about trading it in. I need a truck.” He explained more about work at the farm. No mention of Natalie. Was that a good sign?

  They arrived at the restaurant, and while they waited for their food, Angela asked Mark what he had meant at the rental office.

  “Were you going to ask me something earlier? You mentioned there were changes at the farm.”

  “Oh, yeah, about that. My sister is in town so we should be okay, but when she returns to California, we will need help in the craft barn,” he said quietly.

  “Doesn’t Donna run that?”

  “She did.” He hesitated. “Donna passed away on Monday.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Really, Mark. Was it sudden?”

  “Yes, very
. A heart attack. We closed for a few days and then we’ll close again on Monday for her funeral. That’s why my sister came, why she’s staying an extra week.”

  Their food arrived, and Mark stared down at his plate. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about all this.”

  Angela sat back in the booth and noticed his furrowed brow and strong features. Even though he had a weathered complexion there was a softness around his eyes.

  “Please don’t apologize. I don’t mind,” she replied. “Thank you for telling me. You must have cared about her.”

  Mark looked appreciative. “Donna’s like my second mother. She’s been there, well, she was there at the farm ever since my parents died. Just a few weeks ago she told me some things about my parents I’d never heard before.” He pushed his food around. “Do you mind—am I talking too much?”

  “Not at all.” She said. “Go on.”

  “I didn’t plan to share this,” he said. “But she wanted to tell me things—I don’t even know what they were—I didn’t listen. The worst thing is that she’s gone and I can’t tell her I’m sorry. I can’t tell her I’m keeping the farm.” He took a long drink from his glass.

  Angela had finished most of her food, and a few quiet moments passed between them.

  “The worst thing would be if you weren’t sorry,” she said, “or if you still sold the farm.”

  He looked at her and put his drink down. “Thank you for saying that,” he said, “and for listening. You’re done with your plate—I’d better stop talking and finish my food.”

  “Wait,” she said. “What will you do about your music?”

  Mark looked out over the dining room of the restaurant. “I don’t know. I’m not giving it up, but I’m okay with taking a break for a while. Thanks for asking. If you’re done, we can go see the lights,” he said.

  “That was nice of you to think of Caroline.” Angela paused. “We don’t have to go, if you wanted to bring her.” She looked around at the emptying tables.

  “I wanted to bring you,” he said as he stood up.

  Speechless, Angela returned his smile with a half-surprised, half-pleased grin.

  He parked outside the Enchanted Village and Lights Festival just south of Worcester.

  “Look at all this…Caroline would definitely be jealous if she knew I was here,” Angela said.

  “Oh, so you really didn’t tell her?” Mark asked as they walked through a well-lit archway.

  “Are you kidding? You’ve heard the way she announces everything,” she said. “If she knew I was ...” Her voice trailed off.

  Was what? What is this?

  “On a date?” Mark asked, raising his eyebrows.

  He said it, not me. But he did say it, right?

  “Right. She’d find a way to tell the whole world, or least everyone we know.”

  “Where is her dad, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “He left six years ago. We used to see him here and there, but his parents moved to Florida,” she said.

  “Let me guess. He moved with them?”

  “Yes, he and his second wife live with his parents. And I’m fine with that. Caroline wonders about him, though.”

  “But she wouldn’t mind if you ... ?”

  Angela looked at Mark quickly and then back at the village houses. “If I went on a date,” she finished his sentence this time. “No, she wouldn’t mind at all.”

  Every question Mark asked increased Angela’s curiosity. “Can I ask you a question? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” The words were hard to form. Would the night come to an abrupt end with his answer?

  “Not anymore.” His step quickened.

  “Oh, so it’s—she’s ... ?”

  “Yep, over and gone.” Mark smiled. “It didn’t work out, and that’s for the best.” He looked back at Angela.

  She took interest in the miniature moving train passing by, unable to meet his eyes. At least the air was cold enough so she could blame it for her red cheeks.

  “So can I ask, was that her choice or yours?”

  “Let’s see. Her boyfriend turned out to be the man who’s been trying to get me to sell the farm. She didn’t bother to mention that even when I proposed to her.”

  Angela’s eyes widened at the word propose. “I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

  “That’s why I said it was for the best. I’d feel sorry too, except once I realized how fake she’d been, I don’t know, it made the whole thing easier to move on, I guess.” Mark pushed his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

  “All this was happening and then Donna’s passing, too?”

  “Are you wondering why I’d ask you on a date at a time like this?” Mark asked.

  Angela navigated around some children. “Maybe. A little.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but from the first night we met on the lot, I wanted to know who you were, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. If Donna’s passing has taught me anything, it’s not to put off…” Mark stopped walking. He looked to Angela, scanned the lights and the crowds and then back to her. “I don’t want to miss another good thing in life.”

  There it was. The warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his feelings, she couldn’t argue with that.

  They crossed to the other sidewalk and returned to the parking lot. Mark commented on the way the village was constructed. He said they had considered building something like that on the farm one year, but Papa had decided not to do it. He wasn’t sure why.

  “I like your farm the way it is. There’s a good feeling there,” she said.

  “Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment,” he said, “So Papa’s talk of miracle trees doesn’t bother you anymore?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” She paused. “When I was young, the day my dad brought the tree home and put it up, the entire house felt different. It was magical in a way,” she said.

  “Is that one of your favorite memories?” he asked. “Your eyes light up when you talk about it.”

  “Yeah, maybe it is.”

  He drove back to her apartment. He put the car in park, but hadn’t turned off the engine. She started to say “thank you,” but at the same time Mark asked, “Can I see you again?”

  “Aren’t we still coming over on Christmas Day?”

  “Yes, of course, but I mean just the two of us.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t impose, with your family in town and everything.”

  Just the two of us, he did ask that right? What do I say?

  “Please come. It’s just my sister. It won’t be the same without Donna, but I’ve been looking forward to you coming.”

  She met his eyes.

  There’s that genuine look again.

  He leaned and kissed her on the cheek first. Oh so near to her lips. She closed her eyes and his lips brushed over hers. She didn’t move, but her hand gripped the door handle.

  Her eyes fluttered open as she shifted in her seat. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Caroline and her mother walking towards the door of her apartment!

  So close.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to go.” She opened the car door, breathless. “Um, thank you, for dinner and everything.” She looked one last time at Mark, not wanting to leave.

  Angela ran to catch up to her mother and Caroline, who were waiting by her apartment door.

  “Feeling better, I see.” Her mother said with a grin.

  Chapter 22

  Late Monday afternoon, Mark waited for the heavy pain in his chest to lift as he and Kate drove away from the church and back to the tree farm. It didn’t. Funerals had a way of reminding him of his parent’s death, but Donna had been a second mother. He wasn’t remembering the pain, he was reliving it.

  And compounding it with guilt. Nothing he’d done yet could shake the fear that he’d upset her, he’d pushed her too far.

  Donna’s family and friends would arrive shortly, at Mark’s invitation. Where else would they gather to honor her? This is where sh
e’d spent so much of her life.

  After he greeted her daughters and visited with her husband, Mark retreated to the kitchen where a few of the catering employees were busy replenishing appetizer trays. That was Kate’s doing. She called in a favor from an old boyfriend.

  Mark had a crab-stuffed mushroom in his hand when Kate found him near the window.

  “There you are. You’ve had enough of the crowd too?” she asked.

  “Long day.” He took a bite.

  “At least you have something to talk about with these people. All my memories are from like, ten years ago.” She looked around the kitchen, “Where did you get that?”

  He pointed to a tray about to be whisked out of the kitchen; she grabbed two mushrooms off of it.

  “That could be a blessing. At least you didn’t devastate her, like I did,” Mark said as he looked away.

  “Are you still beating yourself up about that? Come on, Mark. You can’t take the blame here,” Kate started to reassure him.

  “You don’t have people telling you that you were the son she never had. It makes it worse you know.” He finished his mushroom. “I tell you what, though, if our old basketball court wasn’t covered with snow and ice, I could go for a game of horse with you right now—blow off some steam.”

  “That reminds me. Where did you go Saturday night after you asked me to close? It’s a good thing I had Brett here.”

  “Would you be mad if I told you I went out on a date?” He kept a straight face.

  “A date? You don’t waste any time!” Kate poured a drink for both of them. “Do I know this girl? Or do I need to?”

  “Remember the news story, the one about the woman who got the money, and then she tried to give it back?”

  “You took her out? How did that happen? I thought she didn’t like the farm.”

  “That was before the apartment fire. Then I delivered a tree to her.” He paused to take a drink.

  “Wait, this is the same girl—you lost me. What’s her name?”

  “Angela.” A smile broke out on his face.

  “Aw, look at you. You like her,” Kate teased.

  “I wouldn’t have asked her out if I didn’t.”

  “But really, you look love-sick.”