Page 39 of The Snuggle is Real
“Your mangled tree says differently.”
That tree in question wasn’t just bent a little out of shape from its time in the closet. It looked as if it had been assaulted. Fake trees could generally bounce back from a lot; you couldstraighten and spread out the branches, smooth down pine needles.
But this one? I wasn’t so sure.
Ford grimaced. “Would you believe someone broke in and knocked my tree over and then stomped on it a few times?”
“Nooo?”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.”
“What really happened?”
He sighed. “LuAnne told me she’d met some new guy and she was taking Charlie with her to Minnesota.” His eyes gleamed. “The divorce was hard enough, but at least I still saw Charlie. But this…” He grimaced. “There was nothing I could do to change her mind. So I kicked the shit out of my tree. Seemed better than the alternative.”
“What would that have been?”
“Going to confront LuAnne and her new man. Starting a fight. Getting myself arrested.” He sighed. “So now you see.”
“See what?”
“Why I don’t deserve your help.”
I entered the room, boundaries be damned, and crouched next to Ford and the tree. “Everyone deserves help when they need it, Ford.”
He shook his head. “Look what I did.”
“To a fake tree,” I said. “It could have been worse.”
His gaze met mine, sad and guarded. “What am I gonna tell Charlie?”
I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Leave that to me.”
We re-entered the dining room to find Charlie eating her artwork.
“Slow down, girl!” Ford exclaimed. “How many of these have you eaten?”
Charlie held up two fingers. Then added a third.
“Just three?” Ford scanned over the total number of cookies on the table. Yeah, there were only eight left.
Charlie added a fourth finger. “Sorry,” she mumbled, crumbs flying. “They’re really yummy!”
“I bet,” Ford said. “But that’s enough sugar for one night. Let’s get you cleaned and ready for bed.”
“But what about the Christmas tree?”
Ford looked to me, but I was ready. “Good news, Charlie. We’re going to get a real tree from the Christmas tree farm!”
Her eyes widened. “They have farms for Christmas trees?”
“They sure do. You can pick out your favorite tree, and they’ll help us cut it down and bring it back to your place.”
“Wow! That sounds so cool.”
“Doesn’t it?” Ford said with a twitch of lips that might have hinted at a smile. “Okay, go wash up and brush your teeth. I’m going to walk Mason out, and then I’ll come read to you.”
“Okay. Thanks for the cookies, Mason!”
