long. He’ll want his nap,” she told Harry.
“I might want one myself,” he said. He unfolded his legs and stood. Maude noticed he favored his left leg but caught herself before she fussed. If he needed anything, she’d offer later but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. Harry’s eyes sparkled and the lines in his face, too many for such a young man, were relaxed for now. “Let’s go. You might have to carry the little ‘un.”
The return journey took longer and required more care. Going downhill presented dangers and Maude watched each step. After the first few minutes, despite the steep decline, she carried George on one side, the basket on the other. Harry led the way dragging the cedar but he moved slow, cautious not to damage the tree. By the time they reached the yard, his limp was noticeable and the wind blew from the north, much colder than before. “Go on in and warm up,” Harry said. “I’ll knock together some boards so the tree will stand up, then I’ll be in. You might make a pot of coffee.”
“Sure,” Maude said. She would linger but the baby slept, his weight heavy on her shoulder. “I’ll make some soon as I put George down.”
By the time Harry brought the cedar, which seemed much larger now than in the woods, through the front door, she had his coffee waiting. He stood the tree up against the rear wall, well away from the hearth, on the base, with just two boards nailed in an X shape and attached to the trunk. Maude inhaled the cedar aroma, fragrant and fresh, as Harry stepped back. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s big but pretty,” she said. A few bits of dry leaves and twigs were caught among the branches so she began picking them out. Harry sat down in the closest chair and groaned. Maude glanced up and asked, “Is your leg bothering you?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, some, but I’ve got a bad headache that’s worse. Is the coffee ready?”
“Yes,” she told him. “It’s right here. Do you want me to fetch you some aspirin?”
Harry nodded as he accepted the cup from her hand. “Thanks, Maudie.” His earlier good cheer faded as he frowned. He looked more than a little puny so when she returned with the pills, she asked, “Do you feel really bad?”
The frown line between his eyes deepened. “Naw, I’ve felt better but I’m not sick or nothing. It’s just one of the headaches I get, and the aspirin will help. I’ll try to catch a nap between now and chore time. Speaking of naps, where’s the boy?”
Maude patted Harry’s cheek. “He’s upstairs. I didn’t want him to take a chill when you brought the tree inside. The wind’s turned cold.”
“I’ll bring in more firewood in case the weather gets bad,” Harry said. “You plan on decorating this thing tonight?”
She had been but now she changed her mind. “No, I thought we’d do it tomorrow afternoon. How’s that sound?” Harry offered her a faint smile. “Real good, honey, real good. I’ll go cut you some mistletoe in the morning, holly too if you want some.”
The next afternoon, Maude decorated the mantelpiece with holly, careful to keep the shiny green leaves and bright red berries out of George’s reach. Harry hung the mistletoe above the front door and kissed her soundly as soon as it was in place. He hadn’t complained of any pain but she tasted the pungent corn whiskey on his lips so he’d been nipping at Granpa’s old jug. Maude noticed he’d favored his lame leg a good deal all day so she wasn’t surprised he’d doctored it with a bit of liquor. His spirits were good, fueled in part by the moonshine, she thought, but she didn’t say anything. If he was drinking, he likely needed it.
The popcorn she’d popped up and strung the evening before looped over the back of one chair in long garlands. Other strings of dried poke, bittersweet, and elderberries hung in readiness, but Maude planned to
“I might want one myself,” he said. He unfolded his legs and stood. Maude noticed he favored his left leg but caught herself before she fussed. If he needed anything, she’d offer later but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. Harry’s eyes sparkled and the lines in his face, too many for such a young man, were relaxed for now. “Let’s go. You might have to carry the little ‘un.”
The return journey took longer and required more care. Going downhill presented dangers and Maude watched each step. After the first few minutes, despite the steep decline, she carried George on one side, the basket on the other. Harry led the way dragging the cedar but he moved slow, cautious not to damage the tree. By the time they reached the yard, his limp was noticeable and the wind blew from the north, much colder than before. “Go on in and warm up,” Harry said. “I’ll knock together some boards so the tree will stand up, then I’ll be in. You might make a pot of coffee.”
“Sure,” Maude said. She would linger but the baby slept, his weight heavy on her shoulder. “I’ll make some soon as I put George down.”
By the time Harry brought the cedar, which seemed much larger now than in the woods, through the front door, she had his coffee waiting. He stood the tree up against the rear wall, well away from the hearth, on the base, with just two boards nailed in an X shape and attached to the trunk. Maude inhaled the cedar aroma, fragrant and fresh, as Harry stepped back. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s big but pretty,” she said. A few bits of dry leaves and twigs were caught among the branches so she began picking them out. Harry sat down in the closest chair and groaned. Maude glanced up and asked, “Is your leg bothering you?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, some, but I’ve got a bad headache that’s worse. Is the coffee ready?”
“Yes,” she told him. “It’s right here. Do you want me to fetch you some aspirin?”
Harry nodded as he accepted the cup from her hand. “Thanks, Maudie.” His earlier good cheer faded as he frowned. He looked more than a little puny so when she returned with the pills, she asked, “Do you feel really bad?”
The frown line between his eyes deepened. “Naw, I’ve felt better but I’m not sick or nothing. It’s just one of the headaches I get, and the aspirin will help. I’ll try to catch a nap between now and chore time. Speaking of naps, where’s the boy?”
Maude patted Harry’s cheek. “He’s upstairs. I didn’t want him to take a chill when you brought the tree inside. The wind’s turned cold.”
“I’ll bring in more firewood in case the weather gets bad,” Harry said. “You plan on decorating this thing tonight?”
She had been but now she changed her mind. “No, I thought we’d do it tomorrow afternoon. How’s that sound?” Harry offered her a faint smile. “Real good, honey, real good. I’ll go cut you some mistletoe in the morning, holly too if you want some.”
The next afternoon, Maude decorated the mantelpiece with holly, careful to keep the shiny green leaves and bright red berries out of George’s reach. Harry hung the mistletoe above the front door and kissed her soundly as soon as it was in place. He hadn’t complained of any pain but she tasted the pungent corn whiskey on his lips so he’d been nipping at Granpa’s old jug. Maude noticed he’d favored his lame leg a good deal all day so she wasn’t surprised he’d doctored it with a bit of liquor. His spirits were good, fueled in part by the moonshine, she thought, but she didn’t say anything. If he was drinking, he likely needed it.
The popcorn she’d popped up and strung the evening before looped over the back of one chair in long garlands. Other strings of dried poke, bittersweet, and elderberries hung in readiness, but Maude planned to
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