Page 28 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
“You’re gonna need to spread them out over that field. You can’t sell them out of those pallet containers,” Boot advises.
“Guess that’s gonna take all day,” I mutter.
“Me and the boys can help. Should be able to knock it out in an hour or two,” Ghost offers.
“Thanks, VP,” I say. “You’ve been a lifesaver. I’d still be unloading that truck if you hadn’t come to help.”
Boot peers at Rebecca. “You figure out a place where you want that old truck yet?”
“There’s a small grouping of pine trees to the side of the shed across from the area that JJ’s grandfather used to sell pre-cut trees. I thought I’d use the shed for a gift shop and concession area. If we could put the truck in front of those pine trees, I think it’d be the perfect place for customers to take selfies.”
Boot nods. “Hammer and I can see about getting it set up; you just show us which way you want it facing, okay?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“Thank you for the food. It’s nice to have a home-cooked meal when we’re on the road.”
“You find what you were looking for when you came up here, VP?” I ask.
Ghost sips his coffee. “Gotta run it by Shades, but we think we found a spot west of Chattanooga. Little town called South Pittsburg. It’s not far across the state line. It’s about three hours from here, but we’re looking at other spots, too. One along I-65 and one north of Chattanooga.”
The men finish eating and lean back in their chairs.
Hammer glances around the place. “I like this cabin, JJ. Did you come up here as a kid?”
“Every year.” I stand abruptly. Last thing I want to do is talk about my childhood. “Anybody need more coffee?”
“I’ll take some, if you’re offering,” Griz replies.
When I return with the pot, I catch Rebecca’s eyes on me. Sometimes I swear she knows what’s going on in my head.
I go around the table, topping off mugs, then return the pot to the coffeemaker and take my seat.
Ghost studies me and sips his coffee. “We finish this cup; we can get started on the pumpkins. We need to get out of here by noon. Gotta long ride home to Birmingham. Gotta admit, though, it’s some pretty country up here, and the fresh mountain air is fantastic.”
We polish off the coffee, and the boys all thank Rebecca for breakfast. We head outside and spend hours lining the big field next to the long drive with rows of pumpkins, trying to sort them by size.
Rebecca asks us to set aside any small ones because she’s got a plan to paint some of them, and when we’re through, we’ve got a pile of about two dozen for her.
We’re all breathing hard by the time we finish. I wipe my brow with the back of my hand. “You want to show the guys where you want the truck?”
“Right.” She leads Boot over to the area. “I think angled this way, don’t you? With the driver’s door on this side.”
“That’ll work.” He and Hammer push it into place, and I have to admit, it looks fantastic.
Rebecca and I stand back and study it.
“We need a sign,” she says.
“I can make one. You should also paint the name or whatever logo you come up with on the door.”
“That’s a great idea.”
The black lab trots over from the barn and jumps in the bed, then sits and stares at us.
“What are you doing, you goofball?” I say, moving forward to scratch his ears.
“Well, we’re gonna head out now. Good luck with the sale,” Ghost says.
