A Mountain Springs Christmas

Chapter 2

two

JACK

As Jack Meadows neared his sister Rachel’s small house, he could see that the eight inches of snow that had fallen during the day covered her driveway and walks. Even though Mountain Springs was only a thirty-minute drive through the canyon from his home in Golden, it included a two thousand foot climb in elevation. He sometimes forgot how much more snow that meant that his sister got than he did. Snowplows had cleared the roads, thankfully, so he parked in a mostly clear spot in front of her house.

He responded to a few urgent work emails on his phone, then got out of the car, pulled on his hat and gloves, and opened his trunk. This time of year, he always kept good boots in his trunk for days like this. He traded his dress shoes for the boots, wishing he was wearing something other than suit pants, and tucked them into his boots. He would have to remember to leave a pair of jeans at his sister’s for times like these.

Then he trudged through the snow and entered her garage door code. He grabbed the snow shovel, switched on the outdoor lights, including the Christmas lights, and then went to work shoveling the snow from the sidewalks and driveway and piling it on the already two-foot-high pile of snow in her grass.

His mind was on work as he shoveled, which wasn’t different from any other time of day. He loved having his own ad agency, but it definitely took every bit of his focus while he was awake. And remembering the dreams he’d had last night, he had to admit that his laser focus didn’t really sleep when he did.

Eventually, he finished, stomped off his boots, and traded them back for his dress shoes. Then he pulled his car into the driveway, just in case the snowplow needed to come by again while he was inside—the skies didn’t look like they were quite done covering the world in white.

As he walked toward Rachel’s front door, he marveled at the Christmas lights on her house and trees. A neighbor must’ve put them up. He and Rachel never once had Christmas lights growing up. He wondered if she had asked for help or if a neighbor had just felt extra Christmassy and wanted to spread it to others.

He used his key to unlock the front door. The moment he had it open, his five-year-old nephew Aiden shouted “Uncle Jack!” and raced toward him, launching himself into the air as he neared, clinging to him like a starfish. Jack gave the kid a tight hug. Their golden retriever, Bailey, had followed right behind him, giving a single bark before panting, wagging her tail.

“Hey, buddy! How are you doing?”

“Good,” Aiden said as he slid back to standing on the floor. He grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him toward the open kitchen and family room. “Momma and I were hoping you’d come. She’s extra sick today.”

Oh, no. He should’ve left work early. When they got to the family room, he saw Rachel sitting in the recliner, looking pale and weak—worse than when he’d seen her yesterday. He immediately went to her side. He knew that this round of chemo was a tough one, but he hadn’t expected her to look quite so sickly.

“Why didn’t you call or text to let me know you weren’t doing well? I would’ve gotten off work earlier and brought food.”

She reached out for his hand, so he gave it a squeeze. “The—” Her voice came out like a squeak, so she cleared her throat. “The neighbors brought dinner over.”

Aiden jumped onto the couch next to his mom in a sitting position, bouncing as he landed. “It was chicken soup and the best cornbread muffins ever.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack asked.

Aiden nodded.

Jack looked at his sister. “Were you able to eat?”

She nodded. “Some. Today’s just been a rough day.”

“What do you think about moving into my apartment in Golden for the next little while? Then I could respond more quickly and help more.” Maybe he should get her a live-in nurse.

“I don’t know anyone in Golden,” Rachel said, “and I’ve got a good support system here. Plus, I wouldn’t want Aiden to not be able to go to school here—it’s where all his friends are. My church here organized everyone to bring food for the next few weeks, and they come to check on me often. I feel well cared for.”

He nodded. “Do you want me to move in here for the next little while?” It would definitely require some significant adjustments, but he was willing to do whatever would help.

“I do!” Aiden said.

But Rachel chuckled softly. “No. We really don’t have the space. But do you mind helping me to my room? I’m just feeling a little weak right now.”

Jack scooped her up and carried her into her room that was just off the family room. She felt lighter than the last time he’d had to carry her, and it worried him.

It must’ve shown on his face because she said, “Stop thinking like that. I’m going to make it through this.”

He nodded.

“I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I feel it in my bones that I’m going to make it through this just fine. I’m sure I’ll have to wade through a lot of tough days along the way, but I’ll make it to the other side of this challenge.”

He could see the truth of her words in her expression.

He set her gently on her bed. Aiden leaped onto the bed and pulled the covers over his mom, making sure to tug it over her shoulders, straightening it out like it wasn’t his first time. “You all comfy, momma?”

“Yes, because you’re so good at this.” He grinned, and she gave him a hug.

Jack turned to leave, but Rachel said, “No, stay. I’m exhausted, not sleepy. Tell me about work.”

He nodded and took a seat in the chair near her bed. “Well, December’s always super busy, of course, since that’s when everyone wants to advertise the most. Many of the companies we work with have had their ad campaigns in the works for months, and we’re just in the final stages of actually running the campaigns.

“We still have smaller companies coming to us last minute, though, looking for smaller campaigns to be thrown together quickly. But I’ve got a good team, and they handle the extra work well.”

“You’ve done great things with your company. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t have parents—Rachel had taken over that role when they’d both died when he was fifteen. So hearing that from her made his chest swell. He guessed it would’ve felt the same as if it had come from a parent.

Then she asked the question about work that he’d known she’d most wanted to hear about when she first asked. “And how is Noelle?”

He looked down, shaking his head, but still smiling just at the mention of her name. “She’s good. Like always.”

“When are you going to get around to asking her out already?”

He took a deep breath. She knew the answer—she’d asked the question plenty of times. “Still never. Because I’m still her boss.”

Jack had a good friend and an acquaintance who each dated employees in businesses they owned, and neither turned out well. His friend’s relationship had created a lot of office drama that really caused problems for the better part of a year. His friend had been lucky.

For his acquaintance, there had been office drama, indeed. But the bigger problem had been a bad breakup that caused cascading issues that had eventually brought his entire company down. Jack had eight employees whose livelihood depended on his company staying strong and doing well, and he felt the weight of that responsibility exquisitely.

“Such a shame.” She turned to her son. “Aiden, why don’t you get your snowflake collection to show Uncle Jack?” Aiden hopped off the bed. “Make sure you gather all the ones you made, not just the ones in the box. Get the ones on your bed and on the kitchen table and counters. Coffee table, too.”

Rachel watched the door until Aiden was out of sight, then turned to Jack. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to take Aiden to do Christmassy things this season.”

“Okay, ask me for anything but that.”

She swatted him on the arm. “I’m serious, Jack!”

“Come on, Rach. You know I’d do anything for you. But Aiden doesn’t need a Grinch making him hate Christmas, too. I can’t think of anyone who would be worse at it than I would.”

“He needs this. I want him to have the kind of Christmases that we never had.”

“And you’ve been giving it to him every year. One Christmas isn’t going to make or break his feelings about Christmas.”

“So, what...” She raised an eyebrow. “It takes an entire childhood of going without it to turn someone into a Christmas-hating Grinch?”

“Pretty much.”

“Five years old is the most magical age to experience Christmas, and I don’t want him missing out on that just because I’m sick.” She paused for a long moment, then added, “Jack, it’s important to me.”

November and December were his busiest months at work, and he had to put in so many hours a week during those months to accomplish all that he needed to. But how could he say no to his sister’s request? Especially when it was important to her?

He took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll make sure he experiences a fun Christmas.” He couldn’t guarantee it’d be him helping Aiden, but he’d make sure Aiden didn’t miss out on a single thing.

She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

When Aiden came back into the room, his arms wrapped around a box that was almost too wide for his five-year-old arms, Rachel said, “I need to rest for a bit. Why don’t you have Uncle Jack help you hang those up?”

Aiden nodded, and they both left the room, pulling the door closed behind them. Aiden set the box on the coffee table, then went to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a spool of kite string, a roll of tape, and a pair of scissors. After setting them down, he headed back to the kitchen, grabbed one of the chairs at their small table, and hefted it into the family room area.

“Mom says we can’t put up the Christmas decorations until she’s feeling a bit better, but we can put up these.”

Jack hadn’t even noticed that they didn’t have decorations up. His lack of prickliness at first walking into the room should’ve tipped him off to their absence.

Aiden patted the stack of snowflakes he’d made from cutting folded paper. “I’ve been making these for a really long time. I’m talking for a really long time. Like, at least ten days. I want to hang them from the ceiling so it’ll look like it’s snowing in here. I know they aren’t really Christmas decorations, but there’s always snow at Christmas, so it’s kind of like Christmas decorations.”

He much preferred thinking of them as simply a winter thing.

They cut lengths of string, taped one end to each snowflake, and then Jack climbed onto the chair to tape them to the ceiling. Aiden started singing a song he was making up as they went along about hanging them up. Jack was having fun. He liked hanging out with his nephew.

But then Aiden said, “I know! We should be listening to Christmas music instead of me singing!”

And then his nephew turned on the music, and a song about jingle bell time being a swell time filled the room, and Jack felt his hackles rise. The longer they worked and the more Christmas songs played, the more Grinch-like Jack could feel himself becoming. He just had too many negative feelings attached to Christmas from his childhood to ever enjoy the season again.

He taped a snowflake string to the ceiling, and Aiden said, “It needs to go that direction like this much.” He held his hands about six inches apart.

“It’s fine where it is,” Jack snapped.

He immediately regretted the words, even before seeing Aiden’s reaction to being barked at.

“Aiden, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken sharply—that had nothing to do with you. It needs to go this direction, you said?” He pulled the tape from the ceiling and moved it to the right. Aiden nodded, so he stuck it in the new spot.

There was no way he could be the one to help Aiden experience the joy of Christmas. Jack couldn’t be around anything relating to Christmas without feeling cranky, and no matter how hard he could try to hide it, it was bound to rub off on Aiden. He could never do the holiday justice for a five-year-old who was so wide-eyed and expectant of the season.

He needed to find help.