Chapter 2

Les decided he didn’t feel like making coffee. He was too nervous around this couple from his hometown. He knew in his gut they were going to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. He pressed a button on the console.

“Hillary, will you bring some coffee into my office? I have two guests. Also bring some mini-baked donuts."

Les whirled around, hoping to delay the moment they were going to tell him why they were really here.

“So, what do you think of Nevada?” Les asked.

The couple both looked at each other, “Oh, we're old and don’t fit in here, that’s for sure,” Joyce said with a smile on her face.

“We’re simple people, Lester. You know all those fancy cars, they cost more than our farm and bring in more money for over ten years. The stores with all those expensive clothes where they hide the price tags made my eyes water. Our son-in-law took us to Ro-day-o Drive. That was the name of it, wasn’t it, Alfred? Hollywood people,” she sniffed.

Having enough already, "Will you just please get to it already." Les licked at his dry lips, trying to think of something to say.

The couple looked at him, confusion etched on their faces so he decided to change the conversation.

“I just finished up a house for Rylan Tyson. He’s a movie star. Would you like to see a picture of the house?”

“No,”McKinley said in unison.

Les blinked once and then blinked again just as Hillary carried in a tray with an elegant coffee pot with fragile cups and saucers. Linen napkins and a crystal plate of mini-donut were set in the middle of a long conference table.

“Will there be anything else, Les?” Hillary asked.

He waved his hands, “No, this is fine. Thanks.

By the way, how is the new boyfriend?” Les asked jokingly.

Hillary giggled, “He’s a hottie and I think I'll keep this one,” she said before leaving.

Joyce Mckinley pursed her lips in disapproval. “That is bad, shouldn’t that youngster be calling you Mr. Morrison?” She said,

“No, We’re pretty informal around here, Mrs Joyce. Cream, sugar?” He asked.

“Black,” Mckinley said in unison.

Les poured. He filled his own cup and then loaded it with cream and four sugars.

Thinking to himself, "He doesn't drink his coffee with cream and sugar. What the hell is he doing?" He leaned back in his chair and waited.

“We stopped by the farm before we left, Lester. Your father isn’t doing well and I don’t mean healthwise. The farm has gone downhill, Business is way off. Last year he sold only three hundred Christmas trees. This year if he sells half of that he’ll be lucky.” Alfred said.

Les was stunned. Morrison farm was known far and wide for their Christmas tree. People came from miles around to tag a tree in September. Normally his father sold forty to sixty thousand trees from November first to Christmas Eve. He said so.

"What happened? He sells more than any other person." I asked.

“That was before your mama died and you lit out, Lester. Karen was the heart and soul of that farm, she did cider, she made the gingerbread cookies, managed the gift store, decorations, made the bows for the wreathes and the grave blankets. She even worked the chainsaw when she had to. All that changed when she passed on. You should have gone back, Lester. That farm is falling down around your father’s feet. The field needs to be thinned out,” Joyce snapped

Les snapped back before he could bite his tongue.

“I did go back. Pop didn’t want me there. Told me to get out. I called three times a week, he never picked up. He never calls me back. I send money home and he sends it back, like he doesn't need me at all. I have tried to be a good son even though he treated me like shit.”

Alfred drained the coffee in his cup, “I don’t think he’s going to sell any trees this year. The Heritage Society group rented the old Robinson property and are setting up shop. Laura Myers is spearheading the effort. They ordered their trees from Michigan. They’re going all out to raise money to renovate the Society's Building." Alfred said.

Joyce continued, "Just last week at our monthly meeting, Laura said her daughter is coming home from Boston to take over the project. Little Hazel is all grown up now and has her own publicity company which means she’s the boss. When you’re the boss, you take off and help your mama,”

"You wouldn’t believe how good that little girl is to her mama,” she said with just a trace of frost in her voice.

Les reached for a mini-donut he didn’t want. “And you think I should go home to help my father and save the day, is that it? Like little Hazel Myers is doing.”

“The thought occurred to us,” Joyce said, “I think your mother would want you to do that.”

Before Les could think of something to say, Alfred jumped into the conversation. “Laura went out to the farm and asked your father if he would sell her the trees at cost if he wasn’t going to promote his own farm. It would have been a good way to thin out the field but he turned her down flat. So now the Society group has to pay a trucking company to bring the trees from Michigan.”

Les searched for something to say. “Maybe he is tired, the farm must have been getting too much for him. It is possible he wants to retire. It sounds to me like he’s had enough of the tree business.”

“I don't think so, I've known your father for a very long time. Morrison Farms is his life, Lester. Your father can at times be a grouchy and irascible man,” Joyce said.

“He’s all alone. With no business, he laid everyone off.” Alfred finished.

Les started to scratch the back of his head, he felt sick to his stomach. He thought about his teenage years on the farm when his father thought he was going to stick around and run the farm, but his mother was determined he would go to college to make something of himself. His mother had stood and fought for him to be what he is today.

How he’d hated the fights, the harsh words he heard late at night. All he wanted was to get away from the farm, to do what he was brought to life for. All he had done was follow his mother’s dream for him. He wanted to explain to the Mckinleys that he wasn’t a heartless son. He’d done his best where his father was concerned but his best wasn’t good enough.

Lester reached for another mini-donut he didn’t want, he hated the sweet coffee and wished he could brush his teeth. Even as he decided that silence was a virtue at this point in time, he asked, “More coffee?”

“No, thank you, Lester. We would like to take our leave. It was nice to see you again.” Joyce said.

Lester replied, “Yes, it was nice to see you too. I’m glad you stopped by, I’II take you down to the lobby.”

As they walked out, “What are all those movie stars really like?” Alfred asked.

“Just like you and me. Underneath all the glitz and glamour, they’re real people. The glitz and glamour is what they do to earn a living. When they go home at night, they’re just like you and Mrs Joyce.”

Joyce snorted distastefully to show what she thought of that statement. The ride down to the lobby was made in silence.

Les stepped aside to allow the couple to walk out first. “Bon voyage! Have a safe trip home. It was nice seeing you. Have a nice holiday.”

He extended his hand to Alfred who ignored it. Les shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans. He was still smiling even though he didn't want to.

“Just how rich are you, Lester?” Joyce asked.

Stunned, Les thought about the question and how his mother would respond, she’d say if a person had the guts to ask such a personal question, they deserved whatever answer you wanted to give.

“Stinking rich!” he said cheerfully.

Joyce snorted again. Jealousy in her tone. Alfred held the door open for his wife before he scurried through. Neither one looked back.

Les wondered how all this was going to play out back home when the McKinleys returned.

Taking the stairs to the fourth floor, his head buzzing, he reached the fourth-floor landing, and sat down on the top step, dropping his head into his hands.

He thought about home, for one wild moment he thought he could smell pine resin on his hands. He fought with his breathing to calm down. When his heartbeat returned to normal he let his thoughts drift. He thought about his old dog Charlie, his loyal companion during his childhood. He thought about Finley, his buddy all through high school and college. He wondered where Fin was these days. He made a mental note to go on the Net to look him up.

Les felt his eyes fill with moisture. The McKinleys were right–his father was a hard man. A cranky curmudgeon for sure. Because he’d been big for his age, six foot three at the age of twelve, his father taught him how to be a man and be capable of doing things– to his mother’s chagrin.

No amount of interference on her behalf could change his father’s mind. He’d worked him from sun up until sundown. He’d get sick late at night and his mother would always be there promising his life would get better. It did when he went off to college.

Lester's head jerked upright as he wondered if he hated his father or if his own dad didn’t like him.

More likely the latter, since he didn’t hate anyone. He simply wasn’t capable of hating anyone and had no idea if it's a good thing or a bad one.

An hour later, Les untangled himself and opened the door that led to his office. He felt like he was stepping into an unknown territory since his thoughts were back at Morrison Farms.

Nothing had changed in his absence.

The tray with the coffee service and the leftover mini-donut was still in the middle of the conference table. The pine branch was still hanging over his drafting table. How strange that the McKinleys hadn’t asked what it was or why a dried pine branch was hanging on his wall. Everyone who had been in this office asked sooner or later.

He decided right then and there that he didn’t like the McKinleys any more than he like his father.

The phone on his desk rang. He picked it up and made small talk with a client who wanted to take him to dinner.

“How about a rain check, Ethan? I have to go out of town for a while. Let’s pencil in the hmm . . . second week of the New Year. Okay, glad it works for you. I’II be in touch.”

Les whipped his day planner out of his backpack. He flipped through the pages to see what pressing matters had to be taken care of.

"Nothing that couldn’t wait," he decided.

Some minutes later he made an announcement over the intercom. “Look alive people, this is your boss. I’d like to see all of you in my office, ASAP.”

They came on the run the way they always did. When the boss called a special meeting it was of paramount importance. Les Morrison never sweated the small stuff.

Les wasted no time. “Look guys, I need to go out of town for a couple of months. Actually, I have to go home. My father needs me.”

He wondered if it was a lie or wishful thinking on his part. “Can you guys handle things?” he asked.

“Surely you jest,” Ralph Adam quipped.

“It will be a vacation for all of us with you gone. We party up a storm and drink a toast to you every night.” They all laughed.

Les grinned. They wouldn’t do such a thing and they all knew it. Lester was actually lucky to have wonderful staff members.

“Hey, man, you said you were going to watch Max for me while I go to Costa Rica next month.” It was Chris Hade who was Les’s right hand.

Groaning, “Damn! Okay, okay, I’II take him with me. He can run the farm all day. You okay with that, Chris?”

“Oh no, my dog does not fly in the cargo hold. Dogs die on airplanes.”

Rolling his eyes, “Then I’II drive. Works for me if you’re okay with it. I promise to cuddle him just the way you do. I’II give him an apple and a carrot every day. I’II make sure to give him his vitamins and I will give him only bottled water, just the way you do. What I won’t do is dress him up in those designer duds you deck him out in.” Everyone laughed after he made the last statement.

"Boss, when are you leaving?” Hillary asked.

He calculated the time he planned to leave, “In the morning. Bring the dog to the office and I’II take off from here. Are you guys sure you can handle things?” He asked again.

“Yes, Dad,” the little group said in unison.

He smiled, and was about to say something when he got cut off.

“Swear you won’t call us a hundred times a day,” Ralph said.

He laughed out loud, and promised them that he wouldn't call hundred times a day but will call everyday.

Les looked around at his loyal staff. A lump formed in his throat. They were the best of the best. He made a mental note to double their Christmas bonuses. He could do that tonight at home and hand them out in the morning. Loyalty was one thing he never skimped on.

A long time ago his mother had told him a person was only as good as the people who worked for them. At the time he hadn’t understood what that meant. He knew now, though.

His hometown awaits his arrival.

Back to his childhood memories.

Back to his father’s house.

He hoped he was up to the challenge.