Silver Bells. Mary Burton

He started to sing “Jingle Bells” as he trudged along. He looked down when he felt something hit his knee. “Churchill!”

      “Woof.”

      “Hey, big guy, how’re you doing? Where’s Miss Sadie? Yeah, yeah, she’s no fool, I bet she’s sitting in that sleigh. It’s just me and you, Churchill. You know what, I’m not even mad at you because Mandy’s one in a million. You got good taste, I’ll say that for you.”

      “Woof.”

      “Jingle bells…”

      Chapter Seven

      The caravan of cars leaving the snow-filled cemetery was several miles long. Albert Carpenter had been laid to rest, and the whole town had turned out to show their regard and to honor the man who had done so much for the education system.

      It hadn’t been a sad affair at all. More like a celebration of Albert’s life. The wake that started at six the previous evening had gone on well past midnight to allow all the citizens of Apple Valley to pay their respects. They came in trucks, on sleds, on skis, and the sanitation workers had shown up on the town’s snowplow.

      During his teaching years, Albert had always conducted the Christmas Pageant, and when the actors took their final bow, the audience and cast alike had stayed to sing Christmas carols. And that’s what they did this year before the funeral director closed the doors for the night. Until her passing, Mrs. Carpenter had been in charge of the refreshments. This night, Apple Valley’s school principal did the honors.

      So many memories had been shared, but the most poignant of all had been the story of Albert’s financial problems that so few knew about. All his savings had gone to cover his wife’s long illness. He’d been forced to take out a reverse mortgage that allowed him to continue to live in the house until his death. Albert Carpenter had died with just a few dollars in the bank, but he didn’t owe anyone a dime. In fact, Charles Leroy from the bank said he’d made his final payment to the hospital just two months ago. Then he said something that brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “Albert didn’t want to join his wife until all his earthly debts were paid. It wouldn’t look right or feel right knowing he was leaving others to pick up his slack.”

      Hank drove carefully in the long procession, no more than five miles an hour. “I thought the Apple Valley Band did a good job,” he said. “You know what else, I’m glad you decided to decorate Albert’s porch. I bet the town awards the prize to him this year. Posthumously.”

      “I liked that we all sang carols, just as we used to in school. It was sad, and yet it wasn’t sad. He was so loved. Apple Valley and the people here are so special, Hank. There’s so much kindness and goodness here. People actually care about one another. They help out and don’t expect anything in return. It’s not that way in California. Well, maybe it is, but I’ve never witnessed it. It’s not just the season, is it, Hank?”

      “No, Mandy, it’s not just the season. This little place is just one of a kind. I used to think I should come back here and live, but then I told myself no, I needed to leave, to move on so someone else could move here and experience this life. For me to stay would have been selfish. Ben now. Ben was different. He said his roots were here, and he wasn’t digging them up. This was home to him, and while he and Alice have lived all over, this was the place he always came back to.

      “When we were growing up, the population was just a little under four thousand. Today it’s almost six thousand. That’s not a great increase, but it’s something to pay attention to. I do know one thing for certain: I’ll come back here to retire.”

      “Me, too,” Amy said happily. “So, are we going to go sledding this afternoon or not?”

      “I’m up for it, but first we have to go to the dinner at the church. I offered our services, but Father Mac said if he got any more volunteers, he’d have to move out. In other words, all we have to do is show up and eat. It’s all under control. That was a good thing you did, Mandy.”

      Amy’s face turned pink. She just nodded.

      Hank pretended he didn’t notice her discomfort. “I’m not sure, but I think I saw Alice at the cemetery. She was so bundled up, and the crowd was so dense, I can’t swear to it, but I think it was her. She really liked Albert. Ben told me when she cooked she would always take something over. He was partial to peach pie, and she’d make it special for him in the summer when peaches were in season. When in the hell is she going to come home? It’s almost Christmas.”

      Amy shrugged. “My guess would be when she can’t stand being away from her sons one minute longer. Which is probably any minute now. Did you finish everything on her lists?”

      “Almost. I have to get the tree and put it up. I guess I’m supposed to shop for the boys. I’m clueless in that department. Alice always decorates the house, so I guess I should do that, too, since she’ll want to take pictures to send to Ben.”

      “I have an idea, Hank. Instead of going sledding, let’s go get all our trees and set them up. I remember Mom saying you have to put it up in the stand, then let it sit for a day so the branches fall into place. I’d like to put one on Mr. Carpenter’s porch, too. I think for sure that will make him a shoo-in for the Christmas prize. After we take care of that, we can go shopping for the boys. What say you?”

      Hank reached over to take Amy’s hand in his own. “I think that’s a great idea.”

      Amy thought her hand was going to go up in flames. “Something’s happening to us, isn’t it?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

      Hank’s response was husky, almost tortured. “Yeah. Yeah, something is happening. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

      Amy laughed. “From where I’m sitting, a very good thing.”

      Hank squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

      The church parking lot was so full, Hank had to park two blocks away. Once they managed to get inside, they had to get in a line that wrapped all the way around the room and out the side door.

      Amy found herself standing next to Karen Powell from OK Florist. They chatted a few moments while Hank met up with a friend of Ben’s. “Do you have any extra poinsettias, Karen?”

      “A shipment was due this morning. It might have been delayed with the snow, but sometime today for certain. Why?”

      “Will you send two dozen plants to the Anders house? Hank and I are going to decorate it today. As a matter of fact, we’re going to get the trees this afternoon.”

      “You might not know this, but I’m selling trees myself. We have them staked up in the nursery. You might not have seen them. And, we deliver!” she added, laughing.

      Amy laughed. “Put us down for three trees. We’ll stop by when we leave here and tag them.”

      “Will do.”

      It was after one o’clock when Amy and Hank climbed back into Alice’s SUV to do some Christmas shopping. The crowds in the small village carried gaily colored shopping bags as they walked from store to store. Children bundled in snowsuits and mufflers pulled sleds filled with packages. Gaily dressed Santas stood in doorways handing out candy canes and hot chocolate. Holiday music wafted from loudspeakers mounted on the telephone poles that surrounded the square.

      Apple Valley was small-town America at its finest.

      “This is nothing like New York.” Hank laughed as he accepted a cup of hot chocolate from an elf standing in the doorway of Jones’s Pharmacy. Amy opted for a candy cane. They moved on, finally coming to stop at a small toy store. Inside, they turned into little kids, their selections outrageous until they stopped in their tracks, looked at one another, and reminded themselves the twins were just a year old. Sheepishly, they replaced the Barbie and Ken dolls and the catchers’ mitts.

      When they finally left the store, the stock boy tagged along behind them, their purchases piled high on a dolly.