Page 12 of His Christmas Star
His laughter filled the ring as he held up his hands in defense. “I would accept that if it means I’m married by Christmas Day. I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll help any way I can. I know how much time the new school will take, and I understand your concerns about Poppy Rose. If I can help reassure Cece that we can get it together in time, just let me know.”
“I will.” He paused and then motioned at me with his finger in a circle. “Your aura, it’s blue.”
“Is that bad?”
“For me, yes. Blue is grief and pain. When you first started here, I saw yellow and orange, representing joy and happiness, with just a hint of blue around the edges. Lately, your joy is gone, and the blue is drowning your spirit. You’re dealing with something that you’re refusing to talk about, and that’s not healthy. I learned that firsthand last year. Honestly, the only time I see sparks of yellow and orange in your aura is when Nash is around.”
“Oh, yeah, because Nash brings me so much joy,” I said with enough sarcasm to frost a cake.
His grin was gigantic as he walked away. “Keep telling yourself that, Tobi. Maybe someday somebody will believe it, but that day isn’t today, and I’m not that somebody.”
The Wellspring Senior Living and Skilled Nursing Facility, as Daddy Nash insisted that I call it, was attached to the small clinic and hospital in Wellspring. Their claim to fame was you could go straight from surgery to rehab without passing go. If you weren’t inclined to leave after rehab, they’d find you a room on one side or the other. In Daddy Nash’s case, he needed the skilled nursing side, but he never seemed to mind. He always said, ‘it could be worse. I could be getting a bath from Joe instead of the cutie patooties around here.’ His words, not mine.
I had a bag with me that secretly contained a pack of Uno cards, a Black and Tan that I’d push him out back to smoke, one of Beau’s sausage biscuits, and a bag of Dawn’s best peanut butter fudge. Was he supposed to have these things? Let’s just say only the Uno cards are appropriate. The rest is contraband. Daddy Nash doesn’t care. He said the stroke left him half dead, so he’d make sure to finish the job now. Jo-Jo wasn’t impressed with my ‘encouragement of bad behavior,’ but I didn’t much care what Jo-Jo Nash approved or didn’t approve. Daddy Nash was eighty-five and living in a home where most of the people around him were drooling. He wanted to pass on to the great ranch in the sky long before that happened. I couldn’t blame him.
Daddy Nash’s real name is Alfred, and he’s Joe’s real granddaddy. He’d taken in Joe when he was barely two years old. Alfred was already in his mid-fifties, but there was no way he would let his grandson go to foster care when his daughter died. Jo-Jo got lucky that Daddy Nash kept him on the ranch. He always knew he was loved by choice and not by chance when it came to his grandfather. Cody and I started hanging out with Jo-Jo when we were five. Joe was ten, but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably because, as an only child, he enjoyed having other kids around to play with, even if we were little. My grandma watched him whenever Daddy Nash had to take the cattle to market or be away from the ranch for a few days. We were always getting into trouble together, and it was usually Joe’s idea. Cody and Joe liked climbing trees because they knew I couldn’t, so they’d climb up high into the branches and then tease me about not being up there with them. I tried a few times, but the weeks of healing my hands required after each attempt became too much to bear.
At the time, I thought Joe and Cody were just boys being boys, but then something unexpected happened. When I was fifteen, Nash apologized for the way he’d behaved. He said he shouldn’t have teased me about something I couldn’t control. That was when I realized boys didn’t have to be boys. Boys could be kind too. From that day forward, I started calling Cody out on his dumb stuff, and slowly, he became a decent human being, at least until he was eighteen.
I shook away those thoughts and opened the door to the nursing home, stopping to check-in at the desk. I signed my name on the sheet and listed Daddy Nash’s room number. When I turned, I almost ran into one of the nurses.
“Hey, Tobi,” she said, steadying me. “Here to see Alfred?”
“I am. How are you, Wanda?” I asked the woman who I’d known my entire life. We went to school together, and after graduation, she moved away to go to nursing school. I was surprised when she moved back to Wellspring since she was looking forward to getting out of this one-horse town and never looking back. It turns out you can take the girl out of Wellspring, but you can’t take Wellspring out of the girl.
“I’m doing great, thanks for asking. I’m looking forward to the Christmas holidays. I heard Heaven is hosting a community dance this year?”
I groaned inwardly but plastered a smile on my face. “She is. It’s going to be a lot of fun with lots of activities. That’s all I can say.” I zipped my lips and threw away the key while trying not to roll my eyes.
Wanda clapped with glee. “I’m so looking forward to it! Well, I better let you get on to see Alfred, or he’ll start his hollering.”
“How is he doing?” I asked, leaning in slightly. “The last time I visited, Daddy Nash didn’t have his usual spunk.”
She nodded and shrugged slightly. “He’s losing his spunk, that’s for sure. His body is tired of fighting. He’s entered into that season of life where every day is a blessing but also a curse.”
“He’s coming to terms with his mortality,” I said, and she nodded.
“It was all fun and games before he realized this was the end of the road for him.”
“What can I do?” I asked desperately, sadness creeping in around the edges of my usually joyful visits.
“I would keep doing what you’re doing, Tobi. If he wants to talk about it, talk about it. If he doesn’t, then don’t.”
“Let him lead the way,” I said, and she nodded once.
“That’s all you can do. Well, that and ask Nash to come around more often. I don’t think he understands the gravity of the situation.”
I cocked my head in surprise. “You mean Nash doesn’t come daily anymore?”
“Daily?” she asked with laughter. “He’s barely here weekly now. I know he’s busy as the sheriff and all, but he just stopped coming around last month. I asked Daddy Nash if they had cross words, but he refused to talk about it. I don’t want Nash to miss the one chance he has to put something right if something needs to be put right.”
“I hear you,” I promised, hiking my bag up higher. “I’ll talk to Joe. I don’t know how well he will take it coming from me, but I’ll give it a try. I’m not his favorite person right now.”
She pointed at me with a wink. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re always the sheriff’s favorite person.”
Before I could respond, she walked off whistling a Christmas tune. I turned on a huff and headed for Daddy Nash’s room. The man and I were going to have a chat.
