Reid looked at Michael for just a moment, making sure he wasn’t about to change his mind and demand they keep looking, and when Melody put her hands on his shoulders and said, “You are going to have the best Christmas tree Santa has ever seen,” Michael beamed, and Reid dropped down to the frozen ground to saw through the thick trunk.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Melody asked.
“Just make sure it doesn’t fall on you—or me,” he replied. He cut through most of the trunk, leaving just enough to keep it from tumbling over and then crawled out from underneath the branches. “Mikey, you want to finish it off?”
With a proud smile, Michael scurried under the tree, and Reid climbed under next to him, guiding his hand as the saw cut through the last little bit, sending the tree crashing to the ground.
“Timber!” Melody fake shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “My dad always shouted that, every year. Don’t you guys shout timber?”
Reid couldn’t help but grin at her as he found his footing. “Guess we forgot.”
“Well, you should’ve remembered,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “It’s very important.”
Reid pulled one of the tags Payton had given him out of his pocket and attached it to the tree as Michael exclaimed, “I’ll shout it next time, for your tree, Miss Melody. What is that tag for, Dad?”
“It’s so that the tree farmers know this is our tree. In a little while, they’ll come gather up all of the trees that the customers have cut down and bring them to the front on one of their tractors. Then, they’ll shake off all of the loose needles and tie it up so we can take it home,” Reid explained.
“Cool,” Michael said. “Let’s go find Miss Melody’s tree!”
“Okay,” Reid replied as Michael grabbed her hand and began to lead her off. “But this is her tree, so you’ve got to let her decide which one is perfect for her.”
“All right,” Michael mumbled. “You should get a great big one like us, Miss Melody.”
She laughed and said, “I think I want one a little bit easier to manage this year, Michael. But we’ll make sure it’s extra special.”
“Does Santa Claus come to your house, Miss Melody?” he asked as he trudged through the snow toward a tree that already appeared to be way too tall for what Melody had described, “or do you get skipped ‘cause you don’t have any kids?”
Melody looked at Reid as if she wasn’t sure exactly how she was supposed to answer. He shrugged and she began to stammer, “Well, I think he must still come. The cookies we put out are always nibbled, and I always have something in my stocking.”
“Good,” Michael said, that answer seeming to satisfy him. “I know exactly what I’m gonna ask Santa for for Christmas this year.”
“You do?” she asked. “Is there a new toy you want?”
“Nope,” Michael replied with a matter-of-fact tone, and Reid braced himself for where this conversation might be headed. “But I can’t tell you, or else I might not get it,” he said, looking up at her with his blue eyes wide.
“Oh,” Melody nodded. “That makes sense.”
“What do we think of that tree over there?” Reid asked, gesturing at one a few rows ahead that looked like it fit the description of what Melody was looking for.
“That one is kinda short for Miss Melody’s house,” Michael observed.
“I think that one looks just about right,” Melody said. “Why don’t we head over and check it out.”
Michael seemed reluctant to skip the few trees between where he was standing and the tree in the distance, but when Melody started walking that direction, he went along. He was quiet for a few moments, and his father wondered what question he was mulling over. Eventually, Michael asked, “Miss Melody, do you ever think about asking Santa Claus for a new dad?”
Melody stopped for a second, looked down at him, and then regained her composure enough to continue walking. Reid considered whether or not he should change the subject or apologize for his son, but before he did, Melody said, “No, Michael. I’ve never thought about that before.”
“How come?” Michael asked, his voice completely innocent. “You miss your dad, don’t you? Don’t you wish you had another one?”
“Well,” Melody began, clearly choosing her words carefully, “I do miss my dad very much, but I know that Santa can’t bring him back. He might bring me a very nice step-dad someday, I guess, although I don’t think my mom would even consider that. But that wouldn’t be nearly the same as the dad I had before.”
Michael seemed to contemplate that answer for a few seconds before he said, “I hope he brings you a new dad someday, Miss Melody. You’re nice and you should have a dad again.”
“Thank you, Michael,” Melody said, smiling down at him, but Reid could tell in her expression that it was a forced smile and that she was likely thinking no one could ever replace her father.
“Michael, why don’t you run ahead and stake out that tree before those other people get there,” Reid suggested, gesturing toward an older couple moving at the speed of molasses.
“Okay!” he shouted and took off as if he were sent by the king to keep the enemy off of the drawbridge.
***
Once he was out of earshot, Reid turned to Melody and said, “I’m sorry about that. He asks so many questions. We are working on appropriate questions versus inappropriate questions, but he doesn’t really get that yet.”
“It’s fine,” she replied, and her smile looked more genuine this time. “I just wasn’t sure what to say. I’m guessing his reason for asking doesn’t have as much to do with what I want for Christmas as it does with what he wants.”
Reid’s forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?” he asked, not sure what she was getting at.
Melody cleared her throat. “Nothing. I mean, I might be way off base….”
“Melody, what are you trying to say?” he asked, though he was beginning to understand what she was getting at.
“I just wonder if all of this—wanting to spend time with me—is because Michael misses his mother. Maybe he wanted to know if I was looking for a new dad to see if it would be all right if he asked Santa for… a new mom.”