Underneath the Christmas Tree

When I went down to breakfast the next morning, safe in the knowledge that Ned and Bandit were out on their run, there was a gift-wrapped present with a label addressed to me, sitting on the coffee table.

I tore into the paper and discovered, to my delight, a leather-bound journal, complete with pockets, envelopes and plain and lined pages. It was absolutely exquisite and already a work of art in itself. As I flicked through it, a business card fell out. I picked it up and read it. The journal was from a stationer’s in Wynbridge.

He hadn’t signed his name, but this was clearly a peace offering from Ned. A very beautiful acceptance of my decision to leave Wynter’s Trees and a wonderful tome in which to jot down my business ideas and perhaps even record the details of my adventure to see the northern lights.

I ran my hands over the cover, imagining myself filling it in and feeling relieved that Ned had finally calmed down. I hadn’t thought he was all that changed when he’d arrived back from Wynbridge the evening before, but the gift suggested otherwise and I set about cooking breakfast feeling lighter of heart than I had all week.

‘What’s all this?’ panted Ned, when he and Bandit burst in, having taken much longer than they usually would, and spotted the laden table.

‘Breakfast,’ I said, as Bandit skittered over to his water bowl. ‘I thought I’d make enough for both of us and I wanted to say thank you for the journal too.’

I picked it up and stroked the cover. It was so tactile; I couldn’t not caress it.

‘I haven’t got time for breakfast here,’ Ned gruffly said, as I caught sight of Maya bending and stretching on the veranda, in close-fitting running gear. ‘Maya and I have just had a run and now we’re going to get showered and have breakfast in the office.’

‘Oh,’ I swallowed. ‘Right.’

‘It’s a working breakfast,’ he added. ‘We’ve got the deliveries to run through. From today it’s going to get crazy busy. With just a couple of weeks until Christmas, we’re heading into prime tree buying season.’

It was a working breakfast and a bout of busyness that obviously didn’t include me. But then, why should it? I put the journal down again.

‘And that’s from Maya,’ he said, nodding at the gift. ‘Not me. She picked it up in Wynbridge yesterday after we’d had lunch.’

It sounded like they’d had the perfect date. Lunch and shopping in a pretty market town, combined with a bit of business. It was exactly what Maya had hoped for, and exactly what I’d gone out of my way to enable, I quickly reminded myself.

‘Yay,’ said Maya as she bounced in sporting a healthy glow and not at all out of breath as I would have been. ‘You found it. Do you like it?’

‘No,’ I told her, picking it up again. ‘I don’t like it, I love it. It’s beautiful Maya. Thank you so much. It was very thoughtful of you.’

‘I thought it might come in handy for making notes about running Wynter’s, while you’re getting into the swing of things,’ she explained. ‘And Ned mentioned you were planning a holiday, so I thought you might want to record the details of that too. What with you being such a talented artist, I know you’ll make it beautiful.’

‘It already is,’ I acknowledged, ‘but I’ll definitely add to it.’

I wasn’t sure how I felt about her and Ned discussing me. He obviously thought it was acceptable to mention my plans for a couple of weeks away but, and I guessed this from Maya’s buoyant mood and comment about Wynter’s, he clearly hadn’t shared my big life plan. I didn’t know whether I should have felt grateful about that or not.

‘I should have saved it for Christmas really,’ Maya laughed, ‘but I’ve never been any good at keeping secrets. Just don’t go anywhere too wonderful on this getaway of yours,’ she jokingly added, ‘because you might not want to come back.’

‘Right,’ said Ned, ‘we’d better get on. Maya, you take the bathroom upstairs and I’ll use the shower down here.’

‘Not upstairs with me?’ she giggled as she skipped over to the stairs.

‘Not today,’ said Ned, striding off without a backwards glance.

Just as Ned predicted, the footfall at Wynter’s Trees reached record breaking numbers that weekend. It seemed as if the world and his wife were determined to buy their tree, or have it delivered, and decorate it between the eleventh and twelfth of December.

The damp weather on Saturday didn’t impact on customer numbers at all, and everyone was rushed off their feet. Ned hadn’t assigned me anything specific when he doled out the jobs, but as soon as he set off, first with Maya and later Liam, to deliver trees, David set me properly to work.

Once the car park had finally emptied and the beach huts were closed that evening, David gathered everyone together in the barn to ask how their day had gone.

‘I don’t mind admitting now,’ piped up Noah, ‘that I had a bit of a wobble in the early days. My wire sculptures are quite expensive and I didn’t think I was going to shift any, but after today, I’ve changed my mind.’

‘Today’s been better?’ asked Ned.

‘Much better,’ Noah smiled. ‘I’ve sold two. Both to returning visitors who had browsed before but came back today to buy.’

‘That’s great,’ said Wren who, I noticed, was still looking peaky.

Theo rubbed her back and I wondered how long it would be before she was tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle. Not long, if the yawn she stifled was any indicator.

‘And I’m out of festive bunting again,’ said Sue. ‘I’ll have to make some more tonight, ready for tomorrow. I was hoping to eke it out and do it on Monday when we’re closed, but it’s been so busy today that it’s all gone.’

‘And I saw lots of your wreaths and garlands heading towards the car park, Lilith,’ I pointed out.

She was such a quiet character; it was easy to forget that she was there half the time.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’m in the same boat as Sue now. I’ll be making more wreaths tonight ready for tomorrow.’

Everyone nodded and Theo gave her a thumbs up.

‘And one customer bought my entire collection of long-tailed tits,’ said Abbie, making everyone gasp. ‘She told me she’s got some branches set up in her conservatory and is in the process of filling them up with birds created using different crafts. She loves felt and said mine have so much character she couldn’t resist. Initially she only wanted one, but then…’

‘I pointed out they live in flocks of up to twenty,’ Noah cut in, ‘and…’

‘She took the lot!’ Abbie finished up. ‘She’s promised to send me a photo and said I can use it on my Instagram account. Her indoor branch idea has given me some inspiration for photographing the rest of my collection too.’

‘Assuming you have any left!’ chuckled David and we all laughed.

Theo then told us how busy he’d been and Wren had sold more of her silver studs in one day than at any other event she’d ever attended.

‘Thankfully I’ve still got lots in stock,’ she said with a smile.

I was pleased about that because I rather fancied a pair myself. I particularly liked the ones with a snowflake stamped in the middle and there were Christmas tree ones too, which I thought might make a nice gift for Maya. Given the beautiful journal she’d gifted me, she was definitely on my present list.

After the brief meeting, everyone headed home and as Maya was driving into Wynmouth to meet some friends in the pub, she offered to take Liam.

‘And what about the tree for the lodge?’ David said to Ned, as everyone left. ‘Are you going to take it tonight?’

Ned shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It can keep until Monday.’

‘But I thought…’

‘Like I said,’ Ned cut in, sounding harassed. ‘I’ll do it Monday, Dad. It’s going to be busy tomorrow, so we’ll sort it when we’re closed. Assuming that’s all right with you, Liza?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that’s fine with me.’

I hadn’t realised he’d got another tree lined up for the lodge and didn’t ask about it, for fear of aggravating him further. I said goodnight to David and left Ned to lock up.

There was a pile of post on the mat. I picked it up and heaped it on the kitchen counter before making a drink and heading upstairs for a long, hot bath. I’d already eaten, courtesy of Sophie and Hope, and wanted to make myself scarce before Ned got in. I had thought that he was finally getting over his annoyance with me, but apparently not.

Sunday dawned dry but dull and that worked in our favour because it meant the lights looked good from early on. I made sure I was up with the lark and raring to go. I was determined to get Ned to assign me a job that went beyond making endless cups of tea and coffee but if he refused, then I planned go back to David for further direction and hang the consequences. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.

‘Oh,’ I said, only just noticing, ‘this post is for me.’

The large envelope in the pile I’d picked up the evening before had my name on it.

‘Is it?’ frowned Ned.

‘Yes,’ I said, holding it up for him to see. ‘Look.’

I had no idea why I’d be getting post at the lodge. I hadn’t sent off for anything or had anything redirected.

‘Would you mind looking at it later?’ Ned asked, as I began to open it. ‘I want to run through a couple of things with you about today. We’ve no Liam and as it’s potentially going to be the busiest day of the season, we’re going to need you to help out a bit. If that’s all right?’

It was on the top of my tongue to remind him that I’d already, on more than one occasion, said I was willing, but bit the words back.

‘Of course,’ I said, abandoning the envelope and giving him my full attention.

I listened intently as he ran through everything, especially the bit about who was coming to collect their potted trees as well as where he and Maya were going to be heading. I couldn’t help noticing that he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and the frown lines looked established enough to be a permanent forehead feature, even though I knew they weren’t.

Given the miles he’d clocked up since the potted delivery service began, combined with those he’d added to the tally while delivering to places like Wynbridge, I supposed it was hardly surprising that he looked all in. At least I hoped that was the reason behind the bags. I’d hate to think that my request that he should buy me out had contributed to them.

‘Because I wouldn’t usually need her,’ I heard him saying. ‘You are listening, aren’t you, Liza?’

‘Yes,’ I nodded, realising my focus had been side-tracked for a few seconds.

‘Right well, as I was saying,’ he continued. ‘I wouldn’t usually take Maya, but a few of the trees are quite big now and it’s a struggle to manoeuvre them on my own.’

‘Your dad and I will be fine,’ I told him.

‘And Joe,’ he said, narrowing his eyes.

Clearly, I’d missed something in the few seconds I’d drifted off.

‘And Joe,’ I repeated, remembering who he was talking about just in time. ‘Your friend who sells his bird seed and is Hope’s other half.’

‘Yes,’ Ned said, his brow clearing and his shoulders relaxing. ‘He can do the really heavy lifting and stuff.’

Ordinarily, I would have felt aggrieved about a comment like that, however, being a little on the short side did put me at a disadvantage when it came to manhandling Christmas trees. It was nothing to do with brute force. I could lug them about well enough, but I did sometimes have a job seeing over the top and getting my arms around them, to feed them through the netting machine. Anything over six foot was definitely a challenge, so Joe’s longer reach would be much appreciated.

‘It’s going to be especially busy early on,’ Ned told me, ‘because everyone will want to get their tree home and ready to decorate before they have their Sunday dinner, so make sure you have a big breakfast. You’ll soon burn off the calories.’

‘Duly noted,’ I said, reaching for what Mum had always called the porridge pan. ‘Shall I make enough for two?’

‘Better make it three,’ said Ned, with a nod to the window. ‘Here’s Maya. She’ll have already had one breakfast at home, but she won’t turn down another.’

He made her sound like a Hobbit, eager for her second breakfast, but as we watched her willowy figure climb out of her 4×4, I realised she was definitely more of a Rivendell elf. Her long, slim legs easily reached the ground whereas I would have had to jump out of the cab.

‘I don’t know where she puts it all,’ Ned wistfully said, still watching her.

‘Me neither,’ I said, reaching for the honey.

I suddenly found I needed sweetening back up.

By late-morning I was beginning to feel muscles in places I didn’t even know existed. Joe had done his share of lugging the trees about, but so had I. The little carts I’d converted into sleighs were holding their own in the yard, but they were no help when it came to lifting the trees into car boots and trailers and up on to roof racks.

‘If they keep turning up in these numbers,’ puffed Joe, looking thrilled, ‘you’ll be sold out in no time!’

David, who kept popping in and out of the office to see how many cut trees were left, was in complete agreement.

‘I’ve never known it to be this busy,’ he told us. ‘It’s quite extraordinary. I don’t know what’s going on!’

As I looked about, I could understand exactly why it was so hectic. Ned had cleverly created a one-stop Christmas shop and everyone was loving it. There were bespoke and unusual gifts championing the buy local ethos, there was food and drink to match every taste and appetite and the opportunity to walk it off with a stroll through the trees. Santa was installed in his grotto, music was playing, lights were twinkling and to top it all off, there were stunning trees to take home too.

But it turned out, that wasn’t the only thing which had caused the sudden spike in visitor numbers.

‘Have you seen this?’ called Sue, who rushed over, waving a newspaper above her head. ‘Look at the centre spread.’

She handed David the paper and jogged back to her hut while he opened it in the middle.

‘Well, I never!’ he gasped. ‘Would you look at that?’

‘I don’t believe it,’ I said, stepping up to take a better look. ‘I sent those in ages ago, but never heard anything so assumed they weren’t going to be used.’

‘Head to Wynter’s Trees for the full-on festive experience,’ David read out. ‘Enjoy Christmas shopping at the seaside and get to know the people behind the presents.’

As well as using the photos of Bandit pulling a sleigh that I’d submitted, and the beach huts, there was another of Ned looking god-like in a chunky knit and wellies. The journalist responsible for the feature had also made a secret shopper visit and based their glowing copy on that. There was a potted history of the place and a small image of Dad from the archives and a mention of the reserve.

‘Look,’ said Joe, thrusting his phone in mine and David’s faces. ‘The paper’s Twitter account has got Wynter’s trending and there are dozens of comments on the website. No wonder it’s so busy!’

‘You’ve done this, Liza,’ said David, sounding choked. ‘You’ve turned the place into an online sensation!’

‘I just thought it would be good publicity,’ I said, feeling shocked. ‘I thought we’d get a couple of column inches at the most.’

‘We’ve got a whole lot more than that!’

I looked about me, the idyllic sight causing a lump to form in my throat and just for a moment, I panicked. Had I made the right decision in telling Ned and David I no longer wanted to have a connection to Wynter’s Trees? The place might not have been for me in the past, but from what I saw now, it looked pretty perfect.

Then two things happened in quick succession which knocked the thought clean out of my head. Firstly, I remembered that Wynter’s was only like this for a few weeks every year and that it was in no way capable of satisfying the need I still felt to nurture struggling students, and secondly, Theo came rushing across the yard looking stricken. He grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me away from David and Joe who were still looking at the paper.

‘Whatever’s wrong?’ I asked.

The look on his face scared me so much it made me forget where I was for a moment.

‘It’s Wren,’ he choked. ‘I need to get her to the hospital.’

‘What’s happened?’ I gasped, looking over to the huts. ‘I thought she’d just picked up a bug.’

I’d noticed the day before that she still looked pale, but sometimes these things took time to get over.

‘No,’ said Theo, shaking his head. ‘It’s not a bug, she’s pregnant.’

‘Oh, my goodness,’ I gulped.

That should have been cause for celebration, but the stricken look still fixed on his face left me in no doubt that it wasn’t.

‘She was pregnant before,’ he said in a voice so quiet, I had to lean in to hear him. ‘We got to about this far along and we lost it.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’ I began.

‘She’s had some blood loss during the last few days,’ he swallowed, ‘and the doctor said if it didn’t stop, I was to take her in.’

‘Of course,’ I said, choking back a tear when I realised what he was telling me. ‘Just go. I’ll come and lock your hut. Where is Wren now?’

‘With Sue.’

By the time we had pushed through the crowds to the hut, the troops had rallied and everything was organised. Wren and Theo’s hut was closed and Noah was manning Sue’s because she was going to drive the pair to the hospital. She’d already got Wren tucked in the back of her car under a blanket.

‘Did you know?’ Abbie asked me as we watched Theo join her on the back seat and Sue drive them away.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I had no idea. Did you?’

‘No,’ she sobbed, before taking a deep breath.

‘Liza!’ I heard Joe call.

He was waving his arms to get my attention and I waved back.

‘I’ll just see what he wants and come back over.’

‘No, it’s all right,’ Abbie stoically said. ‘We can manage. You stick to helping with the trees. We’re all organised here. Noah’s taken a few bits from Wren and Theo’s hut and put them in Sue’s, so they’ll all still make some sales this afternoon. Not that it matters…’ she added, her words trailing off.

I reached for her hand, but Joe called again.

‘I’m sorry, Abbie,’ I said. ‘I’d really better see what he wants.’

‘This chap has come to collect his family tree,’ Joe informed me once I’d made my way back across the yard and was in earshot.

There was no time to assimilate any of what had just happened and I turned my attention to the man standing with Joe. He didn’t look much better than I felt.

‘I’m a bit nervous about it actually,’ said the guy, who was on his own. ‘It’s a sort of rite of passage. I’m relatively new to the family and have been trusted with the task of picking up the tree. Apparently, it’s been in the family for years and my prospective father-in-law has asked me to collect it.’

His nerves were obviously jangling and I forced myself to focus. There was nothing I could do for Wren right now, but I could get on with the task Ned had entrusted me with.

‘No pressure then,’ I said, conjuring a smile.

He shuffled from one foot to the other, looking mildly terrified and I got the impression that his potential father-in-law wasn’t a man to be trifled with. Perhaps there really was a hand in marriage at stake.

‘Right,’ I briskly said, ‘let’s get you sorted.’ Then I added, ‘have you got any identification with you?’

I was stalling for time, trying to pick David out in the crowd. I was happy to rent the tree out but as it was my first time doing it independently, and so particularly important, I wanted him nearby to oversee the procedure.

‘I have,’ said the man, wrinkling his nose, ‘but it’s got my name on. I haven’t got anything with the family name on. Is it important?’

‘No,’ I told him, but I wasn’t really sure whether it was or not. ‘Don’t worry. We can manage without it. Where’s David?’ I asked Joe who was standing next to me, talking to another family.

‘Sorting something in the grotto, I think. Do you want me to fetch him?’

‘No,’ I said, seeing there was already quite a queue forming. ‘It’s fine. I can manage.’

I’d watched plenty of potted trees being rented out over the last few days and was clear on how the logging out system operated so I knew I could do it. I just needed to get on with it.

‘So,’ I said to the man who was looking more edgy by the minute as Joe rushed off to help a young couple select one of the cut trees. ‘What was the name?’

‘Stott,’ he told me. ‘The name is Stott and it’s the Stott family tree that I’m here to collect.’ He reeled the words off as if they were part of a script he’d been told to memorise. ‘It’s much-loved apparently and an important part of Christmas.’ He sounded slightly bewildered by the family’s attachment to the tree, but having walked through the potted part of the plantation, I could understand why it meant so much to them. ‘I’d better not cock this up, had I?’ he swallowed.

I led him over to the potted trees awaiting collection. As I began sorting through them, my head filled again with thoughts of what might be happening to Wren. Theo had looked positively terrified, so I couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling. I’d had no idea she was pregnant or that she’d previously miscarried, but then as a newcomer, or new returner to Wynmouth, that was no surprise. It wasn’t the sort of information you shared with people you’d only just met, was it?

I could feel the lump beginning to form in my throat again and for two pins would have handed my nervous customer over to Joe. However, it was far too busy for me to bail, especially after I’d been so adamant about pitching in and helping out.

‘Here it is!’ announced the Stott family representative, making me jump, as he grasped a label and looked triumphant. ‘I’ve found it.’

With his chest puffed out, he looked quite transformed. He was in full hunter gatherer mode.

‘Oh, well spotted,’ I said, blinking away my tears as I quickly checked the label. ‘Let’s sort the rental fee and then you can be on your way.’

He looked mightily relieved as he drove off.

‘Another satisfied customer,’ said David, as he came out of the barn, followed my gaze and watched the car turn out of sight. ‘Are you all right, Liza, you look a bit pale?’

‘I’m fine,’ I rallied, knowing there was no time to get into what had happened to Wren. The best thing I could do was carry on and explain at the end of the day. ‘Who’s next?’

I kept checking my phone, having quickly given my number to Theo, but there was no word. I kept telling myself that no news was good news and carried on, netting trees as if my life depended on it. The busyness did help keep my mind occupied to a certain extent, but as three o’clock dawned, disaster struck and my head was filled with another crisis.

‘It’s Scott,’ said the man I’d just shown one of the few remaining potted trees to. It was a fine specimen; tall, wide and in a vast pot. ‘Not Stott,’ he carried on. ‘We’re the Scotts and we’re here to collect Doris.’

‘This isn’t her,’ said the woman with him as she stepped forward. ‘Unless she’s grown about three foot in the last year and look, this label says Stott family.’

‘We’re the Scotts,’ the man repeated, looking increasingly harassed.

‘The Scott family,’ the woman said again.

They had two kids with them. The eldest, a boy aged about fifteen, looked up from his phone and sniggered, no doubt enjoying the fact that someone else was on the receiving end of his mum’s bad mood, and the younger, a girl, looked as if she was about to cry. The woman put her arm around the girl and gave her a squeeze, which soon set the tears flowing.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. There was still no word from Theo and when I looked up and spotted Ned’s truck pull into the car park, I felt very much disposed to join in with the girl’s wailing.

‘Shit,’ I muttered under my breath, feeling like the biggest fool.

‘Kim,’ said Ned, when he reached us, ‘Andrew. Good to see you both. Hey Jasper, hello Daisy. I’m guessing you’re here to collect Doris. She’s grown loads this year.’

‘Not three foot though,’ muttered Jasper, with a grin.

I knew, given how tired Ned looked, that he was making a huge effort to warmly greet these annual customers he clearly knew so well and I also knew that he was going to go ballistic when he found out what I’d done. Hopefully not in front of them though. Not that I didn’t deserve a public dressing down.

‘Where is Doris?’ he frowned, his eyes scanning the few trees still awaiting collection.

‘With the Stott family, apparently,’ said Kim, with a hard stare in my direction.

Ned’s gaze swung to me. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I see.’

I opened my mouth to explain, but David called me from the barn.

‘Phone call, Liza!’ he shouted.

‘You’d better take it,’ said Ned, through gritted teeth.

I didn’t need telling twice and sprinted off.

‘It’s a chap asking for the young woman who’s working here today,’ said David, handing me the phone. ‘As Maya’s been out, that can only be you, can’t it?’

‘Theo?’ I tentatively spoke into the handset, even though I knew it wasn’t.

‘No,’ said a posh voice. ‘Mr Stott actually.’

‘Oh Mr Stott,’ I blustered. ‘I’m so sorry. My mistake with your tree has literally just come to light. I do apologise. It wasn’t the fault of the man who came to pick it up at all,’ I hastily added, hoping I hadn’t cost him his betrothal. ‘It was entirely mine. I muddled your tree…’

‘With the Scott family tree,’ he cut in. ‘Yes, I can see that from the label. Had I been there I would have seen straightaway that this wasn’t ours. Still, no harm done. Can you switch them tomorrow? You’ll need to deliver and collect.’

‘Of course,’ I said, relieved that he was willing to be so understanding. At least that might help my cause when I went back to talk to Ned and placate the Scotts. Mr Stott’s prospective son-in-law must have either been a bit of a wuss or the guy’s bark was worse than his bite. ‘I’ll rectify the situation first thing tomorrow.’

‘Excellent,’ he said and hung up.

‘What’s going on?’ David asked, looking concerned when I ended the call.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ I told him. ‘A slight hiccup but it will soon be rectified.’

I rushed back out knowing I sounded more confident than I felt, but then again, I could calm a class argument with just one look, which was quite something for someone of my diminutive stature. Then I spotted Ned’s face, which resembled a thundercloud, and wondered if my faith in my mediating skills was misplaced.

‘Right,’ I said, before anyone else had a chance to chip in. ‘That was Mr Stott on the phone. He’s acknowledged the mix-up and I’ve told him I’ll switch the trees tomorrow and personally deliver them. Both of them.’

Ned looked taken aback.

‘I’ll drop this tree at the Stott residence, then load up Doris,’ I said, smiling at the girl who was still blubbing but only because her mother seemed hellbent on encouraging her, ‘and then deliver her straight to you.’

‘But we wanted to decorate her today,’ the girl snivelled.

The boy rolled his eyes. Bored with the drama, which obviously wasn’t going to end spectacularly, he shoved his earbuds in and zoned out. At least that was one less Scott to worry about. I turned my attention back to the father.

‘These things happen, sugarplum,’ he was telling his daughter. ‘I’m sure this lady didn’t mean to give Doris to someone else.’

‘She certainly didn’t,’ I quickly confirmed.

‘This would never have happened when Mr Wynter were here,’ said the wife, looking disparagingly at me.

I didn’t think that was the moment to announce I was his daughter.

‘You can have Doris at absolutely no cost this year,’ I said, ‘to compensate for my mistake.’

Ned was looking daggers at me.

‘That sounds like a very generous gesture,’ beamed Maya, who I hadn’t until that moment noticed. ‘And how about a little something from Santa to say sorry, too?’

She handed the boy and girl a stocking apiece. The girl’s tears dried instantly and the lad blushed bright red. He was too old for a stocking but Maya’s lovely smile certainly seemed to strike a chord. I could have kissed her.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow then,’ I said waving them off, having first made sure we had their correct address and postcode. I was going to need it and the Stotts’ to make the switch, along with Ned’s truck. I only hoped he hadn’t got another full day of deliveries lined up.