Page 5 of Meet Me at Christmas
“Where y’all headed in the middle of an ice storm?” he nearly growled at them.
Mama leaned forward slightly and offered a feeble smile as she replied, “We were trying to get to the market for groceries.”
With an irritated inhale, he made a U-turn right in the middle of the deserted road, the ice no match for his large tires, and headed toward the Leiper’s Fork Market, leaving their car to disappear behind them. He didn’t say a word the whole way until he pulled into the empty parking lot next to the gas pumps.
“I’ll wait,” he finally said as they got out.
Mama shut the truck door behind them, and the cold slithered around Stella’s neck.
“He lives with only his sister now,” Mama said into Stella’s ear on their way into the store.
Aware that Henry’s eyes were still on them from the truck, she didn’t react until they were safely inside. “Where’s Janelle?” she asked, remembering how lovely his mother had been.
Janelle Dutton was a single mom to Henry and his sister, Mary Jo. Their father had left when Henry was a baby and Janelle had moved back home to run the family farm that she’d eventually inherited from her parents. They had goats, horses, and all the tasks required of a working dairy farm, yet never once had she seemed frazzled. She was always happily baking things and whistling as she tidied up around the house, the farm tasks seeming to have been magically completed. While she did have a farm crew to help, Janelle had always been up before the sun, taking care of the farm so she could devote time during the day to her kids. Between truck runs to the local shops, she’d spent hours with them, running through sprinklers on the front lawn, riding horses, or playing flashlight tag once the sun went down.
Family had been everything to Henry, and growing up without his father, he’d vowed to be the best dad for his kids. He’d wanted a house full of them, and when he and Stella married he couldn’t wait to get their little dream started.
“She passed away a few months ago. You’ve been so busy I hadn’t had a chance to tell you. I didn’t want to do it over text.”
The news hit Stella like a wrecking ball, knocking the life right out of her. She turned her head to view the truck’s two headlights, the engine running, Henry still staring straight ahead at them. While they hadn’t been in touch, and there was no need for him to be, a tiny ache filled her chest that he hadn’t at least reached out to tell her. Janelle had been their cheerleader growing up—she’d been to all of Stella’s school events. Stella had even made her a clay flowerpot that she’d proudly kept on the mantle in their house. Stella would’ve liked to pay her respects.
Mama waved hello to the store owner, grabbed a basket, then took Stella’s arm and led her down the canned food aisle. “I heard he hasn’t been the same since he came home from the army.”
“Really?” She didn’t want to think about it. After she’d left, she hadn’t been in touch with him again. Mama had told her he’d joined the army only a few months later. At one point, she heard he’d been sent to provide support to Iraqi Security Forces. He hadn’t been able to come back for Pop’s funeral when Mama asked him to.
“He just got back into town, apparently. The army sent him home.” Mama grabbed two cans of chicken noodle soup and set them in the basket.
“Why?” Stella palmed a loaf of bread and dropped it in, stealing another glance at the truck.
“I don’t know. Mary Jo told me the other day when I ran into her at the pharmacy that he’d moved back into the cabin on their property. She was picking up some medicine for him. She said he’d had an accident and he’s not himself these days, but she didn’t have time to fill me in on much more than that.”
Stella’s words escaped her. Henry had been so full of life when they were growing up that she couldn’t imagine him any differently. Always laughing and playing silly pranks on her just so he could lean around and kiss her at the end. He was never in a bad mood. Had her leaving changed him? Trying not to let the guilt overwhelm her, she focused on getting the rest of the groceries they’d need. But as she shopped for flour, butter, eggs, and milk, walking the aisles of the market, her mind drifted back to a different time, and she couldn’t get the memory of when everything changed out of her mind.
* * *
“I want an annulment,” she said while they stood under the shade of the old oak tree in the middle of her favorite field of yellow wildflowers on Henry’s farm. She held out the small diamond and gold band set that Henry had placed on her finger less than a year prior, his face so blurred by her tears that she saw only glimpses of the pain on his young face.
“If this is because I can’t find a job, I’ll do it, Stella. Just give me time.”
Their first year of marriage had been rough, with her working as a waitress at the local diner and Henry trying to find a job that paid more than hers. She’d graduated valedictorian, and everyone had asked what colleges she’d applied to, assuming she’d be the first one out of that little town. While she had applied to some, her heart had been with Henry and she’d decided to stay there, with him.
“It has nothing to do with that,” she said. “I wasn’t eighteen yet, and I don’t even know if Waylon is ordained, so the marriage isn’t valid.” She wiped her tears, clearing her eyes.
“We’re old enough to know what we want,” he said, the agony in his face more than she could bear.
Her chest ached with the sight of his pain. “We’re too young.” That was what she’d told him. There was more to it, but she spared him the rest of it because she knew he’d only want to work through it, and he deserved more than what she could offer him.
“If this is about giving you a house,” he pleaded, clearly trying to find her motive, “I can make it happen.” He stepped up to her with intention, his gaze full of strength. “I’ve just gotta work to get what I need and then we’ll restore an old farmhouse like we said—whatever kind you want.”
“It’s not the house either—you know I don’t care about that.” She turned away, his pleading eyes nearly making her falter.
She could still remember the frustration showing in his biceps as he ran his fingers through his hair, spinning around aimlessly, trying to manage after being blindsided by the one person who’d promised never to let him down. Fighting the urge to put her arms around him, knowing it was for the best if she didn’t, she’d taken his hand and pressed the rings into his wide palm.
“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking.
He took her arm, turning her around gently, and those blue eyes bored into her. “Don’t do this.”
She’d never seen him so vulnerable. Unable to handle how much she was hurting him, she turned away and left him there under the tree. “I’ll walk home.”
