The following story was written
in response to a prompt that was pulled from a jar in the early days of The
Ram’s Head Writers’ Group. The original
document is dated 2003. It is one of the
stories included in my collection called “Love Found”, published as an ebook on
Kobo.
CHARDONNAY, YOGURT AND JOHN DEERE
Tammy wandered
from the kitchen toward the living room with her coffee mug in hand and spotted
a white envelope on the floor by the front door. Someone had pushed it through the mail slot
since she had retired the night before.
Picking it up and turning it over, she saw it was addressed “To
Chardonnay and Yogurt”. She smiled, realizing
it was meant for herself and her five year old son, Donovan.
Opening the
envelope, she read the loving sentiment on the front of the Christmas card and
then opened it up. Inside were five
crisp hundred-dollar bills. The card was
simply signed “John Deere”. Tammy had no
idea who had delivered the card. This
was the third year in a row she had received one. Each time there were five hundred-dollar
bills inside. Each time it arrived the
week before Christmas. Each time it was
signed by someone calling himself “John Deere”.
There was no postmark on the card, so she knew it was hand
delivered. But of course, there was no
return address on it, either. She had no
idea who was being so kind and generous.
Tammy folded the
hundred-dollar bills and put them in the pocket of her jeans. Then she took the card and placed it in lone
display on the mantel over her fireplace.
It would probably be the only card they received. She and Donny had come to this town with
Donny’s father four years ago, when he had found work here. The job didn’t last any longer than the three
previous ones had. And this time the
relationship didn’t last either. Donny’s
father had left them just before Christmas three years ago. He had taken his truck, his clothes and the
wide screen T.V., leaving them with no transportation, no money, and the unpaid
bill for the television.
She had been
devastated, two weeks before Christmas and alone with her son in a town that
wasn’t home and where she knew no one.
But a kind neighbor had seen the T.V. departing with the suitcase in the
truck and had come over that night to ask if they were all right. He was the older man who owned the house
across the street. His name was Jack
Davies, and he lived alone.
He had told her about a temporary
job opening for the holiday season at a grocery store in town, and about his
daughter who babysat toddlers still in diapers.
So in spite of the bill for the television, life without Donny’s father
turned out better than anticipated. That
was the first Christmas the card had arrived addressed to “Chardonnay and
Yogurt”. The money had been a godsend
and she and Donny had survived. The job
turned out to be permanent, and because she was a single Mom, the store gave
her day shifts during the week so she could put Donny in daycare while she
worked.
Jack had become a
good friend, always willing to help Tammy settle into a new town. He told her where she could find a family
doctor, and where the swimming pool was located. And he always made time for Donny’s questions
and Donny wanting to play. She had
learned he was forty-two, a widower for eight years. He was only twelve years older than Tammy,
not so much older after all. She had
told Jack about the Christmas cards and asked if he knew who would do such a
thing, but he had said he didn’t know, that she should just enjoy the
windfall. Maybe, she thought, the cards
were meant for a previous tenant who had moved without leaving a forwarding
address.
Life for Tammy
and Donny slowly turned into a reliable routine they both counted on. Donny thrived in daycare with other
children. Tammy enjoyed her job, meeting
many people during the day. And life at
home for the two of them was bearable.
They didn’t have a lot, but they weren’t starving. She could afford the rent and utilities on
the small house they now called home, even after paying for her divorce. The landlord had supplied a lawn mower so
during the summer they were able to enjoy the big back yard and she and Donny
could kick a soccer ball around. And
this past summer, she had saved enough money to buy a small used car. It was a great time-saver in getting to work
and back, and made bringing home the bacon much easier. She parked her little red hatchback in the
driveway at the side of the house.
It was Saturday,
and Tammy thought she would go Christmas shopping today, now that she had some
extra money. She would buy a small
frozen turkey for Christmas dinner, and a bottle of Chardonnay for her, and
some of Donny’s favorite frozen yogurt.
She smiled to herself, realizing she could afford to buy Donny his first
two-wheeler this year, to put under the tree.
Putting down her coffee mug, she went to open the living room drapes as
she heard her son stirring in the back bedroom.
She pulled the cord and then stood transfixed at the wintry scene
outside. The road and lawns and trees
were covered in a blanket of snow, and the white flakes were still coming
down. Thick, wet and puffy flakes,
typical of a west-coast winter, had quietly brought the outside world to a
stop. There wasn’t yet even a single
tire track down the road or a footstep on the sidewalk.
“Wow! Mom, can I go outside to play in the snow?”
Donny asked excitedly as he came and stood on the sofa in front of the window,
looking in reverence at the winter wonderland outside just waiting for his
tracks of exploration.
“Breakfast first
though,” she countered as she headed for the kitchen. She would have to clean off her car and do
some shoveling herself if she wanted to go shopping later. The main roads would be cleared, if she could
get to one. Now she wished she hadn’t
parked her car so far into the driveway.
Dressed in winter
clothing, she and Donny trekked through the snow on the front lawn, laughing
and throwing snowballs at each other.
Then while he put his energies into building a snowman, she cleaned off
her car and started shoveling the driveway.
Puffing after clearing five feet of a thirty-foot stretch, she stood and
leaned on the rake to catch her breath.
Looking across the street, she saw Jack walking towards her, dressed in
a parka and a baseball cap, with thick work gloves on his hands.
“Hey, Tammy, hold on there. You don’t have to shovel your driveway.”
“What do you
mean? I can’t afford to hire someone,
and Donny isn’t big enough
yet for that chore.”
“Actually, my
girl, nobody has to shovel. My lawn
tractor in the garage also has a snowplow.
I’ll clean off my driveway and then come over and do yours. It’ll only cost you a hot chocolate when I’m
finished. Do we agree on the price?” he
asked, smiling down at her.
“Of course,” she
smiled back. “Ice cream or marshmallows
on top?” she asked, looking up. That’s
when she noticed the logo on his hat.
“You have a John Deere hat?” she questioned.
“They gave me the hat when I bought
the tractor three years ago. And I’ll
have
marshmallows,
of course,” he said, winking as he turned and headed toward his garage.
Later, while Tammy warmed some milk
to make hot chocolate for three, she used a blank sheet of fancy notepaper and
wrote out an invitation that read:
Deere John,
You are warmly invited to join us
for an early dinner at 4:00 p.m. on December
25th, at our home. We do hope you can join us.
Sincerely,
Chardonnay and Yogurt
___________________________
By Lisa A. Hatton
Wonderful!!! Merry Christmas, Lisa!
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