A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

HUDSON

“ I want to go to school!” Colby yells, stomping his feet as I lead him off the sidewalk and away from the crowd of happy people.

I kneel to adjust the bright green Jolly Christmas Tree Farm baseball hat on his head. “Listen, I know. I'm really sorry, but sometimes when you work on the farm, you have to choose the farm. One day, this will be yours, and you’ll understand why I made certain decisions. Now, Grandma and Pawpaw are here, and we should go say hi real quick. Uncle Jake and Uncle Lucas are here too.”

“Aunt CeCe?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sniffles and pulls out the dinosaur Emma got him from his pocket. I gave it to him last night before bed, and he grabbed it this morning before we left, smiling the same way I had when I first saw it.

“Are you good now? We need to find Jake and Lucas, or we’re going to run out of time. Let’s get moving.”

His brows furrow, and he wails again.

“Noooo!” His high-pitched scream grates on my nerves, drawing stares from passersby who might think I've whooped him. That’s not how I parent, even though I got plenty of spankings as a kid.

It used to bother me when he'd break down in public, but now I don't care. I focus on him and try to bring him back to reality.

“You're tired.” I blame the endless amounts of sugar my mother showered on him for two days. Last night, it took him over an hour to settle down. I made it to the end of Goodnight Moon before laying with him, thinking about Emma as he counted out loud. He reached twenty-two before finally falling asleep.

Today, I can’t let him nap. I want him to fall asleep right after dinner.

“Bee, today is super special, so you have to be on your very best behavior. You promised me at breakfast you would.”

This morning, I made his favorite—green eggs and ham with a side of sliced strawberries. We talked about today, and I made a deal with an almost five-year-old. Stupidly, I believed him.

“No!” Colby swings his arm but doesn't hit me. He doesn't even try. Tears stream down his face.

The teenage years will be hard; I can already tell. He’s more stubborn than I am.

“Grandma used to tell me all the time that life isn’t fair. But you know what?”

He stares at me, and I see a mini version of myself—the same hair, eyes, and smile.

“We’re Jolly’s, Bee. We persist no matter what. We keep going even when it’s hard or when we don’t want to. Rain or shine, we show up. Lots of people's livelihoods depend on us. Got it?”

He huffs and crosses his arms, scrunching his face.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention—tonight, I’m making your favorite for dinner.”

It’s the only ammunition I have, but I change the subject, hoping to distract him.

“Sketti?” His green eyes light up.

“With big fat meatballs the size of your fist.”

He smiles, glancing down at his balled hand.

“You good now?”

He looks past me, avoiding eye contact. His expression shifts just before he bolts away. I try to grab him, but I end up falling onto my backside as he darts into the oversized crowd. It’s a mix of locals and tourists, and when I stand up, I lose sight of him.

Colby is fast. I whistle loudly, hoping he can find and return to me quickly.

“Bee,” I yell, cupping my hands around my mouth.

Anxiety floods me.

I've been awake since sunrise, juggling customers and Colby all day. It feels like two full-time jobs. I know he sometimes bolts under pressure—a trait he inherited from his mother.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“What's wrong?” Lucas asks, noticing my panic.

“Colby ran away.”

“We'll find him. He's around,” he reassures me, squeezing my shoulder.

“Colby!” I call out again. We've discussed this before; I've instructed him never to run away from me, especially in public.

Lucas quickly finds Jake, and my brothers join the search. They saw what he was wearing this morning before our office pre-meeting.

There are at least a thousand people on the farm, taking tours and enjoying various activities. We really don’t need this right now.

My heart races, but I remind myself he’s safe here.

“Bee!” I say, frustration mounting as I push through the crowd.

I scan for the bright green hat he's wearing and make my way to the center of the thoroughfare, where foot traffic swirls in every direction. Just as I turn, I spot Claire holding Colby's hand, while Emma kneels at his eye level.

“Colby,” I call out. Emma pauses but remains where she is, at the edge of the sidewalk.

“See? I told you that once you stopped crying, we’d find him,” Emma says, standing to give way.

I stride closer, realizing he’s been playing them. He wasn't crying out of fear of being lost—he’s clearly wrapped them around his little finger.

“I was worried about you, Bee,” I say. “Please don’t do that to Daddy again, okay? You can get lost.”

“Aunt CeCe found me,” he replies, glancing at Claire as if she were his savior.

I’m furious. A five-year-old is manipulating us all.

“And Emma helped,” he says, smiling at her.

He treats them like they’re heroes. “Great, let’s go find Grandma.”

“No!” He clings to Claire as if she’s his lifeline.

“Hey, hey,” Claire says, meeting his gaze. Her serious demeanor is reminiscent of a strict schoolteacher. “Did you run away from your dad?”

Emma watches me intently, nearly boring a hole through my skull, but I maintain my focus on my son. I’m grateful Claire recognizes what truly happened; nothing escapes her.

As Claire waits for Colby's response, I steal a glance at Emma.

She’s wearing a black cashmere sweater, her hair half-pulled back. Her crimson lips curl into a smirk, and when the breeze blows her way, I catch a hint of her sweet perfume. She smells like a Georgia peach.

Our eyes meet briefly before I look away.

“Tell Aunt CeCe the truth,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Yes, but...” His lower lip quivers. “I was sad because I missed a birthday party for my friend Davidson at school today.”

My expression shifts into a frown.

“Oh, Bee. I’m sorry. I can’t know these things unless you tell me,” I reply, trying to sympathize. “Maybe we can get Davidson a birthday present, and you can take it to school tomorrow?”

“Really?” His face brightens immediately.

“Yes, we’ll stop by the gift shop before we leave. But please, no more running away from Daddy, okay? I was worried about you. You’re my world.” I adjust the collar of his shirt, which matches my own.

I think I hear Emma exclaim “aww,” but I brush it off.

He looks up at me as if he understands. Someday, he will, and hopefully, he won’t hold my protectiveness against me. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Hudson, we need more wood bundles,” my cousin Eli calls from behind me. He’s a few years younger than Lucas, but everyone assumes he’s my brother, too. “I’ll let them know on the radio. Some helpers will meet you by the lowboy.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. As he walks away, I quickly make the call, then turn my attention back to Colby. “Time to get back to work, little man.”

“Can I stay with Aunt CeCe and Emma?”

Claire shrugs.

“No, they’re spending time together today, without any little boys around.”

“It’s honestly fine, Hudson,” Claire whispers. “It would give us an excuse to play the kid games.”

Emma snickers.

I shake my head. “I’m not going to do that to you. You should spend quality time with your sister.”

“Oh, don’t use me as an excuse. I’d love to have him around,” Emma chimes in. “There’s a merry-go-round where I could use a partner.”

Colby’s eyes light up, and he nods eagerly. “Please?”

“You both don’t have to do this,” I mutter.

Claire smiles. “If you allow it, I would be honored. Seriously.”

“She doesn’t lie,” Emma adds. “If my sister doesn’t want to do something, she’ll tell you. Trust me. And she never does favors.” She lowers her voice. “We’re not doing it for you. Also, depending on your answer, one of us stands to win $500.”

I glance between them, confused. “Wait, you bet?”

Claire laughs. “What’s your answer?”

As I look back and forth, trying to decipher their bets, Colby tugs on my shirt. “Pleeeeease, Dad?”

In this moment, am I the problem? They stare at me like I am.

“Are you sure?” I ask Claire one last time.

“Is that a yes?” she replies.

“Yes,” I hiss.

Claire points at Emma, who is laughing. “Told you. I won!” She does a little dance.

“You must have been a nightmare growing up,” I remark.

“She was,” Emma agrees.

I’m not annoyed by her gloating; I’m frustrated that Claire knows me too well—probably well enough to understand how her sister affects me. I clench my jaw, determined to keep my guard up.

“Can’t wait for you to pay Jake that $3000,” Claire says, her tone teasing.

My brows furrow. “What?”

Then I remember the bet I made with Jake on Halloween night about finding a girlfriend by New Year's. He knew Emma was on her way to stay with them. My mouth falls open. The bastard set me up.

“I'm lost,” Emma says. “And I'm ready for some hot cocoa.”

I place my hand on Colby's shoulder. “Be very good for Aunt CeCe and Emma, okay? I'll see you at lunch. We're eating Jake’s chili.”

Colby ignores me.

“Agree, or I'm not taking you with me today,” Claire says, shaking his hand.

I smile at her. “If I said no right now, you'd technically lose, right?”

Claire's smile fades, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest.

“You wouldn't,” Claire mutters.

“No, I wouldn't,” I reply, not wanting to upset Colby when we’re finally in a good place again. “But I considered it. He's tired. If he gets bored, I have activity books, crayons, and his iPad in the shop office—plenty of snacks, too.”

She grins. “We've got this. Emma and I were heading over to the petting zoo, and then we're getting corn dogs at the concession stand.”

“Oh, I can't wait to see the miniature ponies,” Emma exclaims, raising the energy. “They're my favorite.”

“I love ponies, too,” Colby chimes in, getting excited.

I shake my head but smile.

“If you need anything, please call me. Anything. Nothing is too small or too big.”

Emma clears her throat and opens her palm to hand me her unlocked phone. “I actually don’t have your number.”

I glance at Emma. “Smooth.”

She licks her luscious lips and smiles. “What if I need you for something?”

I glare at her. She won’t make this easy for me.

“Hudson, for the love of your grandma's chocolate pie, hurry up. We have places to be,” Claire snaps, losing her patience.

Colby laughs.

I take Emma’s phone, knowing her entire life is on it. Then I program my number into it but don't put it under my name.

There's no way she’ll find it quickly with the length of her digital Rolodex. I hand it back, locking it with the side button.

Jake and Lucas find us, relief washing over their faces when they spot us.

“You had us scared to death,” Lucas says to Colby.

Jake slides his mouth against Claire's, murmuring, “You’re so pretty. I want to marry you tomorrow,” as he wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her up.

“Be careful what you wish for. We could make that happen,” I remind them. I haven’t officiated anyone in over a decade, but I agreed to do their ceremony when they finalize their date.

Lucas waggles his brows at Emma, but she’s looking at me with a sexy smirk. This is a game to her—one I won’t play. Her reputation precedes her, and I know Emma Manchester never commits.

The alarm on Lucas's phone dings. “We’ve wasted enough time. We have an interview in ten minutes by the pavilion.”

“Shit.” I almost forgot.

Colby starts, “Umm. Bad word.”

“Hush.”

Before we go our separate ways, I stop Claire. “I’ll meet you at the Gingerbread house at noon.”

“We’ll be there,” she says just as Colby reaches for Emma. She takes his hand, and the three of them melt into the crowd.

I sigh, keeping my eyes on them until they disappear. “I feel guilty.”

Jake laughs. “Are you kidding? Claire's been scheming to steal him away from you since yesterday.”

I chuckle. “I knew it.”

“We’re trying for kids,” he blurts out.

I stop walking, excitement bubbling up as I realize my brother is leaving the decision up to Claire. He would’ve been happy either way. “That’s great! I’m going to spoil the ever-living hell out of your little crotch goblin as payback! Excited Colby will have a cousin.”

“Maybe eventually cousins. I just don’t know how to be a dad,” Jake admits, looking stressed. “But the thought of seeing her pregnant with my baby...”

I resume walking. “Okay, keep those private thoughts to yourself.”

“What if she’s already pregnant?” he whispers, and I can see his excitement. “You make being a dad look easy.”

I burst out laughing. “I just make that up as I go, teaching with compassion—just like I did with you growing up.”

Jake smiles and nods. “You’ll help me not suck?”

“Yep. I promise. I’ve been through it all, so I’ve got your back.”

Pride washes over me. I am a good dad, or at least I’m good enough.

“So you and Emma,” he mumbles.

“Absolutely not. There is no me and Emma.”

“Yet,” he replies. “You two have a lot in common.”

I roll my eyes. “You said you weren’t matchmaking. You lied.”

“What are you two chatting about?” Lucas asks.

“Hudson and Emma,” Jake tells him.

“We’re going on a date this weekend. Kinda claimed her,” Lucas says.

“Yeah right. We all know it’s fake, Lucas. You can drop the act,” I say.

He doesn’t smile. “It’s not an act.”

My grin fades; he seems serious.

“I’m interested in her, so back off,” he says, his tone serious.

“Hey, you have nothing to worry about,” I confirm.

I glance at Jake, who shrugs, and we share a silent conversation as Lucas leads the way. This only cements her name on my off-limits list.

Jake and I move toward the local news van when a woman in her early twenties approaches me, a permanent marker in one hand. When she gets close, I smile.

“I follow you online,” she says. “You’re my favorite lumberjack.”

Jake watches me, amusement dancing on his face as I scribble my name across a log. “There are others?”

“You have no idea. By far, you're ranked at the top,” she replies.

Jake chuckles.

“Oh, would you mind if we took a picture together?”

I don’t get a chance to answer before she steps in closer, wrapping an arm around my waist. I keep my hands crossed in front of me; I know how rumors spread in a small town.

“I honestly thought being grumpy was an act,” she says. “It's even hotter in person.”

Jake offers to take the picture. As soon as he grabs her phone, I notice a small crowd of women lining up to see me like I’m the main attraction.

“We need to go,” Jake whispers as he hands the device back to the woman.

“What should I do?” I ask.

He lets out a sigh and turns to face them. “Sorry, ladies. If you want to see Santa, he’s just a quarter of a mile that way. We have some official business to attend to, but you’ll be able to chat with Hudson later,” Jake says, flashing them his boyish grin before pulling me away from the crowd. Lucas continues walking without stopping.

“I can’t believe this is still happening,” I mutter, feeling annoyed.

“It’s great for business,” Jake replies.

“I told you last year that I wouldn’t be the farm's entertainment. That hasn’t changed.”

“You’re the star at the top of the tree until you find a wife. Trust me, even an engagement won’t stop them from trying.”

“I don’t like this,” I grumble, keeping my eyes on the ground and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

This situation reminds me of last year when Emma shared the farm with her millions of followers. We became celebrities overnight.

“I’d hoped the attention would be temporary,” I say.

Jake chuckles. “Oh, we’ve only just begun.”

We find Lucas, and the attractive reporter greets us with a million-dollar smile, showcasing her perfectly straight, white teeth. Her big blue eyes meet mine. “And you must be Hudson Jolly.”

Even she seems starstruck.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she continues, her gaze lingering a bit too long.

Lucas clears his throat as the camera operator begins setting up the tripod.

“Hopefully, it was all good.”

“My expectations have been met.” She’s flirting. “I’m Zella.”

“Nice to meet you, Zella.”

I glance at Lucas, trying to decipher his expression. We'll have to discuss his recent outburst later.

The light above the camera flicks on, shining brightly in my face.

“Five minutes,” the guy says.

Zella smooths her blonde hair and applies a fresh swipe of lipstick.

“We'll be doing a live shot from the farm today. Everyone in the studio is really excited to be part of this.”

“We can't wait,” Jake tells her, stepping between me and Lucas. “Don’t be nervous.”

“Nervous?” Lucas mutters. “Just try not to be cheesy.”

Impossible.

Even though Jake isn’t a dad yet, he already has the corny jokes down.

I check the time on my phone and quickly skim through the notifications on the home screen.

Emma Manchester liked your photo.

Emma Manchester followed you

My mouth slightly drops open.

“What’s up?” Jake notices my sudden shift in mood.

“Nothing.” I lock my phone, shoving it into my pocket, though I can’t ignore how my heart races.

Why would she do that? What photo did she like?

“One minute until we're live,” Zella announces, holding her microphone. She stands beside me with a smile, waiting.

“Thank you, Janice. We're live today at the Jolly Christmas Tree Farm with the Jolly brothers—Hudson, Jake, and Lucas. Right now, there are close to a thousand people here at the farm, and as you can see, most are already in the holiday spirit.”

She laughs. “Hudson, can you tell the folks watching at home and in the studio what they can expect when they arrive?”

“Joy. Family. Fun. The holiday spirit is alive and well on the farm today.” I grin and step back to let Jake take the spotlight.

He slides in seamlessly like we planned the transition.

“Not to mention, Santa came all the way from the North Pole to celebrate this special occasion. Did you give him your list?” Jake asks Zella.

“I sure did. Had a few things on it.” She glances at me before focusing back on the camera using her television voice. “Absolutely, Janice. There are plenty of reasons everyone should put Jolly Christmas Tree Farm at the top of their holiday to-do list this season. This is the only place to be, and I genuinely wish those watching at home could feel the magic in the air right now.” She turns to Jake. “Tell everyone where they can find you and how to get here.”

“Sure thing.” Jake's twang becomes more pronounced, a sign of his excitement.

As he promotes our social media accounts and lists our extended hours, I glance past Zella. My eyes land on Emma, sipping a cup of hot cocoa. Colby gives her a high-five, and they share a laugh.

“Isn't that right?” Jake nudges me.

“Absolutely,” I reply, unsure of what he just said. Emma’s gaze captured me.

“Thanks, Janice! We're going to have a blast. Yep, come on down and check this place out for yourself. Highly recommended.”

We freeze for ten seconds before Zella relaxes. The camera light shuts off, and she expresses her gratitude. Before I can walk away, Zella stops me.

“Would you like to grab a drink sometime?”

“Well—“

“He would,” Lucas interrupts.

I glare at him.

Zella steps forward and hands me her card. “My number is on there. Call me sometime. I'd love to hang out.”

“Nice meeting you.”

“The pleasure was mine,” she replies, grabbing a bag of gear and heading toward the van with the Channel 6 logo on the side.

Lucas looks at me. “You should go out with her.”

“I don't want to go out with anyone,” I insist for the hundredth time. Yet as soon as the words leave my mouth, my faithful excuse feels like a lie.

Shit.

Two hours pass quickly, and I haven’t had a minute to myself since the interview until now. The sounds of the crowd chatting, children laughing, and the band playing drift through the chilly breeze.

A smile touches my lips as I think about Colby. I hope he's having fun and behaving, but then again, he's always loved Claire.

I'm so glad my brother is marrying her. They were made for one another, and their happiness is evident. They're lucky.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve ever truly experienced love. My heart now tells me I never will, and that’s a hard reality to face.

I load several fifty-pound bags of popcorn kernels into the back of the side-by-side. It takes me a few trips, but this should keep my cousin BJ—Bella Jolly—supplied into the afternoon.

The girl is a spitfire who knows her worth. As her oldest cousin, it's my responsibility to teach her how to stand her ground, especially with men. I'm already praying for whoever she ends up with because BJ doesn't tolerate nonsense from anyone. Perhaps that's why she's determined to open another coffee shop after graduation. She's been sneaky, working there during her college breaks, on weekends, and over the holidays to learn everything about running a shop.

I told her it was shady and that she'd be the talk of the town once she does it. She laughed and said she loved free advertising. Heart of coal, that one.

I try to be as efficient as possible, knowing I'll have Colby with me the rest of the afternoon, and he tends to slow me down. I spent the summer planning for this event but never imagined I'd have my son here with me. Today is the culmination of every free minute I've focused on.

My grandmother is convinced that I work so hard to avoid dating. She's not wrong, but I'd never admit it out loud because that woman loves to say, “I told you so.”

Before heading back to the concession stand, I queue my radio.

“Calling the snack shack,” I say, waiting for a response.

“Concessions,” BJ replies.

“I've grabbed the kernels; need anything else?”

I give her a moment to check back.

“Hot dog buns and pretzels, please. As many as you can carry.”

“10-4.” Thankfully, I have plenty of room to carry whatever they need. Once I load the oversized bag of buns, I grab a gigantic box of individually wrapped pretzels and buckle it into the backseat. Before leaving, I take a quick inventory, knowing I'll need to order more food for the morning to be ready for the weekend. We're expecting thousands of guests on Saturday and Sunday, with a goal of 2,000 trees sold. Jake thinks it will be more like 3,000, which would set a record for Jolly Farm.

I lock the door and head toward the stand. It's not far, but the constant flow of people has me creeping across the grass.

“Hi,” I say, smiling at one of the ladies eyeing me like her next meal. I keep my gaze ahead. I never wanted this kind of attention in real life. Online is different; I can create boundaries there. Most of the time, I post and ghost.

That's when I remember that Emma followed me on Instagram. After parking behind the food stand, I pull my phone from my pocket and log into the app. Immediately, I'm overwhelmed with notifications, and my follower count has skyrocketed. I nearly panic-scroll, trying to find Emma's name. I check my profile and see that my follower count has jumped from under 10,000 to over one million.

I nearly drop my phone. “What the fuck?”

Then I visit her profile: @therealemmamanchester

The gray button says FOLLOWING, just like I remember.

She's responsible for this attention.

I do the only thing I can: deactivate my account until the situation stabilizes.

In this moment, I exist to no one—not even her.