Christmas in Bayberry

“Late? For lunch?” He was quite certain they were early.

She glanced over at him. “Yes, late.”

As they approached a pickup truck with the Bayberry Candles logo on the side, he said, “We’re driving? I thought you walked everywhere.”

“Not today. We’re going to need the pickup for the food.”

Food? How much food was she planning to order? But who was he to argue? The fact he didn’t have to walk through the snow and ice in his dress shoes was fine with him. He climbed into the passenger seat.

He rubbed his hands together and then stuffed them in his pockets. The sun might be out today and shining bright, but it was still quite cold. This snow wasn’t going anywhere.

Kate started the truck. “What do you think of the candle company?”

Was she really asking about its financial standing? Or his projection for its future? He uncomfortably shifted in his seat and gazed out the passenger window, avoiding her inquisitive stare.

“I think it’s impressive that your family established the company more than a hundred years ago, and because of it, a town came to be.” He paused, waiting for her to grill him about his work.

“I think so too. Sometimes I try to imagine what it must have been like for my ancestors. You know, moving here in the middle of nowhere and setting up their business. Back in those days, my great-great-grandfather would have to drive a big truck through the mountainous roads and deliver the candles to all of the general stores. And he didn’t just do it once a year, he had to deliver them every month. And soon the business grew to the point where he had to hire drivers and more workers. That’s when the town started to blossom. Because workers meant they needed food and, well, more of everything.”

As Wes listened to her talk about Bayberry, he could hear the love in her voice for her hometown. He’d never known what it was like to have such an attachment to a place. His childhood had been one address after the next, to the point that he could remember writing the wrong address on a form in school.

Now, as an adult, he understood that his father had been doing all he could to keep a roof over their heads, and as such, they’d had to keep moving wherever his father’s work took them. But as a kid, Wes hated moving around almost every year. And he especially hated leaving Bayberry and the girl with the long braid.

He glanced over at Kate. He’d never dreamed they would be reunited. Not that she remembered him. But he remembered her. She was the girl who’d been nice to him—who helped him pick up his school books when he’d tripped over his own feet because he’d been staring at her.

But that was years ago. A lot had changed since then. He had changed. And he was based in New York City. He had been there since he’d graduated from college. It was the longest he’d ever lived in one place. So why didn’t it feel like home?

When he thought of Manhattan and his cramped apartment, he didn’t get the nostalgic look on his face that Kate got when she spoke of Bayberry. But when he was able to move his mother into the city, it would change things. It would make it more like home—

“Hey,” he said, pointing out the window, “you passed the diner.”

“I thought you said you wanted to try something different.”

“I did.” He just wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. “Where are we going?”

She pulled to a stop next to Bayberry Square. “Here.”

He looked around. “Here, where?”

“Right here.” She reached behind the seat and pulled out a Santa hat. “You’ll need this.”

“Need it for what?” He had no idea what Kate was up to, and he got the feeling she liked to keep him guessing. As long as she kept flashing him the brilliant smile that made her eyes sparkle, he honestly didn’t mind.

Kate produced a matching Santa hat and put it on. She exited the truck and moved around to the rear.

He still wasn’t sure where they’d be having lunch. He was thinking of a nice cozy restaurant and some hot food to warm him up. With reluctance, he climbed out into the sunshine. He walked to the back of the pickup to find Kate had lowered the tailgate.

“What are you doing?”

She smiled at him and then placed a red plaid blanket over the tailgate. She reached for a thermos and sat down. Right there on the truck, she made herself comfortable.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought we were going to get lunch.”

“We are.”

“And you decided this sub-freezing day was a good time for a picnic?” He didn’t want any part of it. He rubbed his hands together, as each breath he took sent a puffy little cloud into the air.

She laughed. “It’s not a picnic.”