Chapter 12:

Going with J.T.

“In the day of my trouble I will call upon You, For You will answer me.”

Psalm 86:7 (NKJV)

The weather changed drastically between the first and second weeks of December. Several inches of snow fell on Farmwell Valley, making it a little more challenging for J.T. to get a Christmas tree for Apple Muffin Cottage, but he was determined to try.

“Where’s Uncle J.T.’s Chrissum Tree Farm?” Dinky seemed to think they were going clear to the North Pole to chop down a Christmas tree. He had never had a real one before, only artificial, already strung with lights. “Santa Claus gonna be there?”

Dinky’s strawberry-blonde head turned to one side so quizzically, it made Gracie want to giggle. His sky-blue eyes and freckles, paired with his upturned nose, made him look elfish.

“Nope. Nope. I’m afraid Santa won’t be there,” Gracie answered, stifling a laugh.

“Uncle J.T.’s Christmas tree farm is on the slope of the South Ridge.” She knew her four-year-old wouldn’t fully understand, but she tried to explain anyway. “He started planting some of those trees years before you were born and some every year since.”

“Are we gonna cut down all his Chrissum trees?”

“Nope. He’s going to let you cut down the very first one this year, but before he can sell any of them, they have to be bigger.”

“They reindeer on that farm?”

“Nope, no reindeer,” Gracie answered.

“Who ever heard of a Chrissum tree farm with no reindeer?” Dinky puzzled.

“It’s not really a farm,” his mother replied, trying to make sure that his thumbs were both in the thumb holes of his mittens.

“Why’s he call it a farm then if it ain’t really a farm?” Dinky’s question made sense to Gracie, but she got distracted by his use of bad grammar.

“Don’t say ‘ain’t,’ Dinky.” Gracie pulled his toboggan down over his ears, made sure the zipper on his coat was pulled up under his chin, and turned him around towards the door. “Just go with Uncle J.T.,” she said, giving him a slight nudge, “and have a good time. Try not to ask too many questions.”

“Okie-dokie.” In a flash, Dinky was out the door running through the yard, trying to kick up as much snow as he could with his superhero boots. About eight to ten inches of heavy, wet snow had fallen overnight.

Suddenly, Dinky stopped in mid-stride and fell backward into the fresh snow. He laid there for a few seconds, then started making jumping jack motions. He was fanning his arms upwards through the snow above his head and back down to his sides as his legs opened and closed like a pair of scissors.

“Oh, my gosh! Get up, Dinky, you’ll be a mess,” yelled his mother. “What next?” She mumbled to herself, shaking her head from side to side.

Dinky stood up, surveyed his masterpiece, and grinned. “Look, Mom,” he said gleefully, pointing to the indention in the snow, “A angel. I made a snow angel.”

Gracie couldn’t be mad; he looked so proud. She smiled at him and waved. He waved back, then turned around and ran to his uncle’s big black truck.

“Hey, buddy,” J.T. said as he dusted the snow off of Dinky’s backside, then lifted him into the backseat of his four-wheel drive extended cab pickup.

“This things gots really big tires, Uncle J.T.,” Dinky informed his uncle, who often used the truck for getting across the farm in places where there were no roads.

“Sure does,” replied his uncle as he fastened Dinky’s seatbelt.

“J.T., you be careful with my kids,” Gracie yelled to her brother from the porch.

“I will. Don’t worry. We’re goin’ by road today.”

Most of the time, he would cut across Spirit Creek Farm in his truck and could be there in no time. Today, however, he would go by road since the snow was so deep and the kids were with him.

“Good,” she answered. “I thought there was too much snow to go across the farm,” she mumbled, knowing that J.T. probably couldn’t hear her now.

“Where’s Bethie? C’mon, Bethie, let’s go!” J.T. boomed so his niece could hear him.

He was anxious to show her and Dinky his trees, and he wanted to get there and back before dark because the temperature was supposed to plummet. Even four-wheel drive vehicles don’t do well on ice. He was pleased, though, that the sky was clear and there was no more accumulation of snow expected today.

He would have to drive past Spirit Creek Farm and go south on Rt. 25, then turn onto the old logging road leading back to the south ridge. They would park at the top of the hill and walk the last quarter mile or so down the steep slope.

“Comin’, Uncle J.T.,” Elizabeth yelled as she ran out the door with a thermos of hot chocolate in one hand and a tote bag in the other. “I was getting our picnic lunch together,” she explained.

Again, she was the perfect combination of youth and beauty. She wore a light blue parka, white gloves, and blue jeans tucked down into white boots. Her curly auburn hair hung loose from underneath a wide navy blue headband that covered her ears. Made redder by the cold, her rosebud lips and rosy cheeks made her eyes look even greener.

It was harder than usual for her to run. She felt bound up from head to toe, and the snow was heavy, but she ran with a dramatic flair, pretending that she was in a commercial she’d seen one time for some peppermint gum.

With one upward movement, J.T. swept her up into the cab of his truck, too. “What kinda sandwiches?”

“Peanut butter and strawberry preserves. Six of them, just in case we get really hungry or stranded or something. And I brought some of my homemade Christmas ornament cookies, too.”

“Sounds good.” He hadn’t taken time to eat breakfast, and he was already hungry. “Seat belts on?” J.T. sounded like an airplane pilot going through his checklist.

“Check,” Elizabeth answered.

“Check,” Dinky answered.

“Let’s rock’n’roll,” he said, always upbeat.

“Let’s rock’n’roll,” repeated Dinky, and he giggled with excitement that he could no longer contain when J.T. revved up the truck engine, put it in drive, and sent snow flying out from underneath the wheels as he spun out.

“Hold onto your hats, youngins,” he said with great affect, “’cause we’re gonna get us a Christmas tree.”

“Yeah!” Dinky repeated with a growl. “We’re gonna get us a Chrissum tree.”

Gracie was standing at the door of Apple Muffin Cottage with her face in her hands. “Oh, dear Lord,” she sighed, “please watch over my babies.” She really did trust J.T. to be careful with her children, but she trusted the good Lord more.

“Hey, Uncle J.T.,” Dinky piped up, “they reindeer on that Chrissum tree farm?”

“Well, ya never know whatcha might see on a Christmas tree farm,” J.T. was trying to build up Dinky’s excitement. He wanted him to always remember this day.

“We’re going to find the most beautiful Christmas tree ever,” Elizabeth said as she pictured in her mind how gorgeous it would look decorated and topped with their familiar china angel, the one she’d known all of her life. It had a satin cream-colored gown, painted-on blonde hair, tiny rosebud lips (like hers) painted red, miniature hands, and satin wings edged with lace. It wasn’t Christmas until her mother took the angel out of her box on the top shelf in the hall closet of their old apartment.

Suddenly, Elizabeth recalled her dad holding her up to let her put the angel on top of their artificial tree. She must have only been about three or four. Her mother would never understand how much she missed her dad. Even though he was hardly ever home before he died, she longed to smell his aftershave again and feel his mustache tickle her cheek as he kissed her.

“Yeah, the most bee-u-tee-ful Chrissum tree ever,” parroted Dinky from his booster seat in the back. He was fascinated by the way the wipers would smack away the big chunks of snow that blew up off of the hood onto the windshield every now and then. His head rocked back and forth in time to them and to the tune of J.T. singing.

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…

The truck cab was filled with the happy song as they made their way over the snow-covered road past their farm. When they turned onto Rt. 25, much to their surprise, they noticed that the snow plow had been there before them, and the road was clear.

“Too bad Victoria and William are Christmas shopping today,” said J.T. “Oh, well, I’ll take them out sometime this week.”

“Yeah, too bad,” said Elizabeth half-heartedly. She really was secretly glad that her cousins were out of town today. She didn’t want to have to share Uncle J.T. with them or have to deal with William.

Although, Rt. 25 had been cleared, when J.T. turned onto the old logging road the snow was very deep. “The snow plow sure hasn’t been up here,” he remarked.

“No, sir-ree!” Dinky exclaimed as he peered out the windows and saw the snow-covered road.

“Look!” Elizabeth yelled. “There’s Miss Patsy’s car on the side of the road. I think she’s stuck.”

“I think you’re right. That is Miss Patsy.” J.T. slowly pulled his truck in behind her. “I’ll see if I can help. You guys stay put,” he insisted.

“Hey, girl, what’s going on?” J.T. yelled as he knocked on her driver’s side window.

“Oh, J.T., thank God!” Miss Patsy said as she rolled down her window. “You’re a prayer answered. I started to slide and got over in this ditch. I am really stuck.”

“Looks like it,” he said as he surveyed the snow packed under her vehicle. “What in the world are you doing out here?”

“Well, Mr. Tabor, who lives on top of that hill over there…” she said, pointing to a tiny little house where smoke was curling up out of its chimney.

“Yeah, I know Mr. Tabor,” J.T. informed her. He had known him as long as he could remember. Mr. Tabor lived in the last house along the old logging road. “I used to come visit him with Pop when I was younger.” Mr. Tabor and Pop used to chew tobacco and spit into the fire, which made a sizzling, hissing sort of noise that J.T. still remembered.

“Well, he’s feeble and can’t get into town to get his groceries anymore, so I’ve been delivering to him. I knew he would need some things. I should have called him and gotten out here yesterday.” Miss Patsy shook her head in disgust, mad at herself. “Now I’m stuck, and he still doesn’t have what he needs.”

“We can take care of both,” J.T. said, reassuring Miss Patsy. “Come on. Hop in my truck, and I’ll get his stuff. We’ll have his groceries to him in no time. Then, I’ll come back and haul you out of here. I’ve got a tow chain in the back.”

“Really? You don’t mind? Mom hates me coming out here. I hated to have to call her and tell her I was stuck.”

“Really. I don’t mind,” J.T. said with a broad smile. He was glad for the opportunity to spend time with her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Miss Patsy’s blue eyes sparkled, and her long, curly blonde hair parted on the side framed her face with cascades of spirals.

“Okay, Sir Galahad, let’s do it! Everything’s in the trunk,” Miss Patsy grinned back at him and looked straight into his eyes. She gathered her purse and gloves from the front seat and got out of her small car, then handed her keys to J.T. He noticed how nice she looked with her jeans tucked down into her leather boots. In her winter-white jacket with pink faux fur around the hood, he thought she looked like an angel.

“Hey, Bethie, scoot yourself over so Miss Patsy can get in the front seat there with you,” J.T. said with excitement in his voice that he couldn’t seem to contain.

“Hey, Miss Patsy!” Elizabeth greeted her friend with great enthusiasm.

“Hey, guys. How are you?” Patsy called out as J.T. gave her a hand up into the truck cab. Then, he went back to get Mr. Tabor’s groceries. There were several bags and some smaller boxes packed into one big box, along with a large container of soup. He put it all in the bed of his truck.

“Hey, Miss Patsy,” Dinky called out, “we’re goin’ to a Chrissum tree farm to find a reindeer.” His voice squeaked when he talked.

“You are?”

“We might even see Santa Claus there, and then we’re gonna get us a bee-u-tee-ful Chrissum tree. And drink hot chocolate.”

“Wow, does that ever sound fun!” Miss Patsy exclaimed.

“Come go wif us, Miss Patsy!” Dinky excitedly extended the invitation.

“Yeah, please come and go with us,” Elizabeth chimed in. “It would be so much fun.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, sweetie. I’ve got to get these groceries to Mr. Tabor and then get out of that snow bank,” she said apologetically as J.T. got in the driver’s seat. “I hope I’m not interfering with your plans, J.T.”

“Not at all, especially if you go on up the road with us.” He looked sheepishly at her and continued with the invitation, “I’ll have you back here, outta that snow bank, and home before dark.” He was quiet for a moment while she was thinking. “Come and see my Christmas trees with us,” he implored. “Got any more deliveries after this?”

“Nope,” she said, thinking she’d just received a very sweet invitation.

“Do you have to work in the store today?” asked J.T. further.

“Nope. Not today.”

“Any voice students?”

“Never on Saturday,” she answered smiling, knowing that she had no more excuses left except trying to explain to her mom that she would be with J.T. Barton. Ever since Miss Patsy and J.T. were kids together in school, her mother had practically despised him and wanted her to have nothing to do with him. “But he’s a good guy,” Patsy always argued with her mom.

“I don’t care! I don’t want you seeing him again. You could have any other boy in school.” But BevAnn was the one that didn’t understand. Patsy never wanted any other boy.

“Hey, Harper. Hi, Patsy here. Listen, tell my mom I’m going to be out for a while and I’ll be home by dark. Okay, thanks, Harper. Bye.” Miss Patsy closed her cell phone and grinned at J.T. “I’ll let the stock boy tell her,” Miss Patsy pronounced, then she giggled.

“Okay then,” J.T. looked at her with hesitation in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then let’s rock’n’roll,” J.T. said laughingly.

“Yeah, let’s rock’n’roll,” yelled Dinky clapping his hands.

“Alright.” Miss Patsy agreed. “Let’s rock’n’roll.” Then she started to sing:

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…

J.T., Elizabeth, and Dinky all joined in as they traveled happily toward Mr. Tabor’s little house.