Page 88 of Every Beat of My Heart

“Dad insisted,” Jameson said as he left the house, presumably to grab it from his truck.

“Did you have fun working at the farm today?” I asked Owen as I started to hang the ornaments on the tree.

“It was really busy. I didn’t realize so many people buy trees.”

“I didn’t either. But it makes sense. They want to get a head start on the season.”

“It’s nice.” Owen shook his head and chuckled. He always teased me for worrying about things like throw pillows on the couch or the color of the walls. “Dad probably won’t even put up a tree.”

“Maybe you could ask him to when you’re there.” I hesitated to suggest things like this, but it was Christmas. Owen deserved a warm atmosphere in both of our houses.

The door opened again. “It’s getting colder out there. I wonder if we’re going to get more snow and ice this week.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to go to school.”

“You just have to make it up in the summer,” Jameson said as he arranged the garland on the mantle around our family pictures and candle holders. “You can probably do a better job than that.”

I brushed him out of the way to fluff the garland and arrange it nicely around the frames. “There. That’s better.”

I placed the smaller pieces around the candles on the windowsills that I’d put out earlier in the day. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.”

Owen groaned. “That was lame.”

“I’m lame, huh?” I asked, enjoying spending time with Owen and Jameson.

“You know you are,” Owen said, and Jameson responded, “You have a lot to learn about how to talk to your mother. I had sisters that taught me.”

Owen sobered. “Sorry, Mom. You’re the best. Really.”

“Aww, thank you.” He’d thanked me many times over the years. In some ways, he was more mature than other kids his age. I felt like he was forced to grow up a little more quickly. He didn’t have any live-in playmates, and he spent most of his time with me.

Together, we worked to place the ornaments on the trees. Every once in a while, I’d mention that Owen had made the particular ornament in preschool or we’d bought it on vacation. It was a nice trip down memory lane, and Jameson seemed to enjoy our stories.

When dinner was ready, I kept it warming in the oven while we finished, then served it in the kitchen. I’d made an easy taco casserole that the guys devoured in seconds. “I guess you work up quite an appetite working on the farm.”

“We had sandwiches at some point, but yeah, it’s a lot of heavy lifting. It’ll help build muscles; that’s for sure,” Jameson said as he cleared his dish, rinsing it, then placed it in the dishwasher.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Owen said.

“Don’t forget to put your dish away and thank Jameson for letting you help out today.”

Owen gave me a sheepish look before he moved to comply.

Jameson leaned a hip against the counter, and Owen said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome on the farm anytime.”

“Are you serious?” Owen asked, his expression hopeful.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Eric promised to take Owen places, then later backed out saying he was too busy at work. I wasn’t sure if Owen trusted Jameson to follow through yet. But hopefully, he’d see the proof.

“Don’t forget to take a shower,” I said to Owen as he left the room, and he mumbled, “Yeah, yeah.”

“He’s a great kid,” Jameson said as I moved around him to scrub the casserole dish in the sink.

“Thanks for taking the time to show him things on the farm and with the tree. Owen is desperate for a father figure. I’m not even sure he realizes it, but he soaks everything up.”

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