Page 4 of Evan

EVAN

The sun's dipping behind the trees when I hear the crunch of tires on gravel. It’s been a long day on the farm, getting everything ready for the Christmas rush, but my mind's been wandering. I can't shake the thought of Molly and Chad and hoping they'd really show up.

I look up and see Molly getting out of her car, Chad bouncing around like a puppy beside her. They're all bundled up, their cheeks pink from the cold. Molly's hair is escaping from her hat in little wisps, and it makes my heart do a funny little flip.

"Evan!" Chad yells, running over to me with a big grin. "We're here!"

I find myself grinning back. The kid's excitement is contagious. "Hey, buddy! You ready to learn all about Christmas trees?"

"Yeah!" he shouts, practically vibrating with energy. "Mom said you were gonna show us around the farm and teach us everything!"

I glance at Molly, who's watching us with a kind smile. "I hope that's okay," she says, sounding a little unsure. "I know you're probably busy, but Chad hasn't stopped talking about the farm since last night. He couldn't wait to see it."

"Of course it's okay," I tell her, feeling a warmth spreading through my chest. "I'm happy to show you both around."

Molly's smile gets bigger, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, lead the way then, Mr. Christmas Tree Expert."

I laugh, waving for them to follow me as I head towards the rows of trees. "All right, first lesson: not all Christmas trees are the same. You've got your firs, your pines, your spruces, and they've all got their own special qualities."

As we walk, I point out the different kinds of trees, showing them how to tell them apart by their needles and shape. Chad's hanging on every word, his eyes wide with wonder. Molly's asking questions, really interested and engaged, and before I know it, I'm lost in the conversation, just enjoying sharing something I’ve grown up doing with people who care.

We wander deeper into the farm, the rows of trees stretching out before us like a green maze. The air is cool and clean, filled with the sharp, fresh scent of pine. It's one of my favorite smells in the world, but lately, it's been tainted by the weight of responsibility, the burden of keeping this place running when all I want to do is escape.

But with Chad by my side, his small hand in mine, I start to see the farm through his eyes. The way the sunlight filters through the branches, casting patterns on the snow. The way the icicles glitter like diamonds, the way the wind whispers through the needles like a secret song.

"Wow," Chad breathes, his head craned back as he stares up at a towering Douglas fir. "That one's gotta be a million feet tall!"

I chuckle, ruffling his hair. "Not quite a million, buddy. But it is a beauty, isn't it?"

"It's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen," Chad declares, his voice filled with awe. "Can we take it home, Mom? Please?"

Molly laughs, the sound like music to my ears. "I think it might be a little too big for our living room, sweetie. But maybe Evan can help us find one that's just the right size."

I nod, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. "I'd be happy to. That's what I'm here for, after all."

But even as I say the words, I feel a pang of guilt. Because I'm not here for this. Not really. I'm here because it's what's expected of me. It’s what my family needs me to do. My brother is in the military and my parents are off enjoying their overdue retirement. I'm here because I'm trapped, stuck in a life I never wanted, in a town I've always longed to leave behind.

But standing here, with Molly and Chad looking at me like I'm something special, I feel a flicker of something I haven't felt in a long time. A sense of purpose, of belonging. Like maybe, just maybe, this isn’t the worst place to end up.

We keep walking, Chad darting ahead to examine every tree, every pinecone, every footprint in the snow. His excitement is a tangible thing, a bright, bubbling energy that fills the air around us.

"Hey Evan," he calls out, his nose pressed against the trunk of a blue spruce. "What's this sticky stuff on the tree?"

"That's sap," I explain, crouching down beside him. "It's like the tree's blood. It flows through the trunk and branches, keeping the tree healthy and strong."

"Whoa," Chad breathes, his eyes wide. "That's so cool."

"You know what else is cool?" I ask, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. "If you touch the sap and make a wish, it might just come true. It's like Christmas magic."

Chad's face lights up, and he eagerly presses his hand against the sticky patch, closing his eyes tight. "I wish for the best Christmas ever," he whispers, his breath puffing out in a cloud of fog.

I feel my throat tighten, my eyes stinging with sudden tears. Because isn't that what we all want, in the end? A perfect Christmas, filled with laughter and love and joy? A moment of magic in a world that so often feels cold and dark and lonely?

I glance at Molly, seeing the emotion shimmering in her own eyes. And I know, without a doubt, that she feels it too. The longing, the hope, the desperate wish for something more.

We keep walking, the moment passing as quickly as it came. But something has shifted between us, a subtle change in the air. Like a door has cracked open, just a sliver, letting in a hint of light.

As we round a corner, Chad lets out a gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. "Look!" he cries, pointing to a small clearing ahead. "It's a snowman!"

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