Page 3 of A Tinsel Tale

“May as well get it over with,” he says. “Best to rip off the bandage all at once.”

I take off my coat and hang it on the peg next to all the other outerwear then toe off my shoes. “No thanks. I’ll be conveniently hidden in my bedroom or on a trail ride.”

“That’s not very neighborly of you,” he says. I glare. What does he expect from me? I ignore his comment and amble over to the plate of cookies sitting temptingly on the kitchen counter. Nabbing one, I take a bite. “Mm. Delicious. When did you learn to bake?”

He grins sheepishly. “I haven’t. Jamie brought those over yesterday.” I resist the urge to childishly spit it out as it turns to sawdust in my mouth. I look around the house I grew up in, absorbing all of my mom’s homey touches… the jersey cow cookie jar, a collection of salt and pepper shakers on the shelves to the right of the sink, the country valance covered with colorful chickens and roosters that hangs above the window. The scenic view of the lake just outside. I feel her so hard that my heart squeezes. How does Dad do it?

Picking up my favorite knick-knack, a cow jumping over the moon, I glance at him. “How can you stand to stay here without Mom?”

He meets my gaze, his warm eyes full of sadness, compassion and love all at the same time. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I feel close to her here. I couldn’t bear to lose that.”

I plop onto the bar stool and lean my chin on my folded fists. “All these mementos only remind me of what I’ve lost. I can hardly stand it. It hurts.”

My dad walks over and sits on the stool next to me. “Can you imagine if I sold this place? How would it feel if you didn’t have the farm to come back to? I may sound crazy, but for me it feels like I’m getting her warm hug every time I walk in that door. I talk to her a lot you know. And no, I’m not losing it. I’ve been going to a grief counseling group for the last six months and it’s helping a lot. I’m meeting new people and making new friends. Doesn’t take the pain away but it helps.”

My eyes widen. “Really? That’s great, Dad.” I chew on my cookie thoughtfully. “I guess I never really thought of what it’d be like to lose this place. I think it would be like losing her all over again.” Somehow that shifts my perspective a little.

“Maybe you can go to a meeting with me while you’re here… I mean before the surgery. We meet Sunday nights in the church basement on High Street.”

“I’ll consider it.” I smile. “I’m happy for you, Dad. Mom would be, too.”

His eyes look extra bright as he tweaks my nose. “Don’t get me wrong, I miss your mom terribly, but I also feel like she’s still with me. Hard to explain.”

“I get it,” I say. “I feel her here too. Maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong.”

“We all grieve in our own way, honey. I’m just glad you’re home.” He wraps his arm across my shoulder and squeezes me against his side. “I’m going to take full advantage of having my daughter here. We’re doing the holidays up right this year. Bout time we got back to our traditions and make some new ones.”

“I’m in,” I say and hug him back.

2

JAMIE

Ifinish loading the wood onto the bed of my truck and slam the tailgate. Whistling, I climb into my cab and buckle up. My Blue Heeler-Border Collie mix, Huxley, sits next to me in the passenger seat waiting patiently. I ruffle the fur of his neck then start the engine.

“Well, Hux, we may run into Chicago. She’s back in town.” Huxley’s ears perk up attentively. “Not sure how I feel about it. I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”

I take my time cruising down the back roads leading to the Parkers’ property. All the leaves have fallen, and it’s like someone hit the pause button as we wait for the first snowfall. Not gonna lie, I have mixed feelings about Evie Parker. No doubt she was my first love and I’d thought she’d be my last. You never forget your first, they say.

Back then she was as sweet as a summer day is long. I picture her with that long wild auburn hair hanging down her back, those big curious green eyes I’d wanted to drown in, and her young ripe body. Her dainty nose was usually buried in a book… in the beginning anyway… that is until I’d cast my spell and caught her hook, line and sinker. We’d loved so hard back then. My chest still aches if I dwell on it too long. But that was the old Evie.

When she first left for college, she’d return on the weekends, and was home the entire summer after her freshman year. I tried my damnedest to see her, but she totally ghosted me. I never heard from her, and she wouldn’t return my calls. When I did run into her, she acted like I was a serial killer or something. Every time I’d tried talking to her, she’d shut me down cold. Message received. It really was over… there was no going back. It had practically killed me, but I probably deserved it. I’d handled the whole breakup thing badly. Plus, college life had obviously gone to her head. She thought she was better than me. Truth was… she was right.

Her dad was my football coach and mentor all through high school, and in my opinion, as close to a superhero as a man can get. He coached all my brothers too. My youngest brother Cam was two years behind me, and he’d gone on to play college football. Now he teaches social studies and is the high school football coach. Full circle.

Evie’s different now. She’s one cool customer and as prickly as a cactus. Not that I’ve spent more than a few minutes at a time with her since she left for college, but enough to know she’s not the same girl that I loved in high school. A law degree and big city life have changed her. She’s too big for small town life now. Last time I saw her at Ginny Parker’s funeral she was as cold as ice. Zero emotion. Fine with me. Adios.

I’d do anything for Coach. Now that he needs me, I’m not about to turn my back just because his snobby princess daughter decides to finally return home and take some responsibility. About time she steps up and does the right thing. I may sound harsh, but I’ve watched Bill Parker struggle through his grief alone. Her mom was barely in the ground before she burned rubber racing back to her lofty career and city slicker boyfriend who hadn’t even bothered to show up for the funeral. Maybe they do things different in the big city. What do I know? All I know is that she left her dad here to cope alone. At least our small community came out in support. It was sad. Ginny Parker was one special lady. Fuck cancer!

I flip on my turn signal out of habit even though there’s nobody behind me. The gravel crunching under my wheels and the clicking of my turn signal is the only sound I hear as I pull down their drive. Their house sits about a couple football fields down the lane and my truck kicks up dust as we go. Huxley starts whining and pacing. “Where are we fella? You gonna get to see your girl, Mags?” Hux yips his reply.

I put my truck in reverse and back up to the firewood stacked neatly against the outbuilding, then shut off the engine. The front door opens, and I tense until Bill steps outside alone. I’m relieved and disappointed at the same time. It will be interesting to see how it plays out between us. We can’t avoid each other forever. Town is too small. I’m guessing she’ll try though. She’s a pro at avoidance. Bill waves cheerfully as he approaches, leaning on his cane with Mags and Bruiser racing ahead. Huxley barks excitedly and leaps out right behind me. I smile as they sniff and dance around each other like the besties they are.

“Hello, son,” Bill says slapping me on the back.

“Hey, Coach.”

“I don’t know how to thank you. I really appreciate all you’ve been doing for me.”

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