A Winter Wedding at Mistletoe Gate Farm by Helen J Rolfe
Chapter Six
Benjamin had risen early this morning and was sitting on the veranda, jacket and beanie on to keep the winter chill at bay, coffee mug clasped between his palms. His dad was already giving out instructions to workers and it was all systems go, ready for another day selling Christmas trees at Mistletoe Gate Farm. Benjamin couldn’t help feeling somewhat resentful that Danny was going about his business as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
He almost dropped his mug. Unless Danny didn’t know about the divorce. Was this something that was going to be sprung on him by his wife?
But Benjamin swigged the remains of his coffee. Unlikely, given Heather had left that form somewhere not exactly hidden. It had gone from its position – he’d checked late last night – and he hoped he was wrong. He hoped at least they’d agreed on something and this wasn’t going to blindside Danny when the papers came through.
‘You’re out early,’ said Heather when he appeared in the kitchen.
‘You know me, I like to enjoy a coffee before I get going, and what better place to do it?’
She seemed to relax entirely as she picked up her cup of tea. ‘You’re not wrong there.’
‘I love this farm, no better place to live.’ He thought he’d say it, gauge her reaction, but all he got was a smile and a nod of agreement.
‘Knock, knock!’ It was Barney at the back door and Benjamin went to open it.
‘You’re an early riser too. Come to get another tree?’ Benjamin asked.
‘No, but I am here on important business.’ He pulled off his hat, which sent his grey hair on end with the static until he smoothed it down.
‘Come in,’ Heather urged. ‘You’re nice and wrapped up,’ she smiled as he peeled off a scarf, his coat and a cardigan he had on over another jumper. Heather was all ready for the day but not in outdoor wear, Benjamin noticed. Usually she’d be in casual jeans, a big chunky jumper and thick socks ready to pull on her boots but instead she was wearing smarter, slim-fitting jeans and a blouse and the fluffy socks she wore around the house instead of slippers.
‘I’ve left Lois at home wrapping Christmas gifts,’ Barney told her. ‘I’m here to talk weddings,’ he informed Benjamin, rubbing his palms together and accepting Heather’s offer of a cup of tea.
Harvey and Melissa had leapt at the chance to have their wedding here at the farm and they’d come by to see Heather and Danny the morning after Benjamin and Tilly floated the idea to them. They’d all talked at length about how the ceremony would work, costs involved, the happy couple telling Benjamin’s parents that they doubted this would be the last wedding here. It was the perfect place. Benjamin had merely kept quiet when he heard them saying that. He’d looked at each of his parents in turn, tried to see whether their faces gave anything away, but it was as though they were caught up in the romance of it all.
Involving Barney in the arrangements had been a given from the start and as Benjamin made himself a couple of poached eggs on toast for breakfast, he listened to Barney launch into wedding talk straight away. They talked vows, music, food, guest lists – in fact, they talked at such a rapid rate they covered everything from how they’d arrange decorations on the veranda to where exactly Melissa would walk towards the groom-to-be. Heather was scribbling it all down in a big notebook, making sketches here and there with Barney’s approval. And Barney clarified that he had his suit all organised, ready to walk Melissa down the aisle and give her away.
Benjamin had washed everything up, dried it all and put it away when Heather came over to put the kettle on again. She dropped more tea bags into the grey-and-white-spotted teapot she’d got from Tilly’s Bits ’n’ Pieces years ago that – apart from a tiny chip off the handle glued back on for her by Danny – was still going strong. ‘This planning is quite something,’ she said.
‘You think you’ve taken on too much?’
‘Not at all.’ Her shoulders dropped slightly. ‘It’s actually a lot of fun. I just hope we don’t disappoint.’
He drummed his fingers on the side of the sink but stopped in case she picked up on any tension. The best way to work out what was going on and to get answers would be to tread very carefully. ‘They’ve seen your wedding photos, right?’
‘Of course, they’re the best advert.’
‘Then if it’s anything like your day, they’ll be happy.’
‘Barney mentioned having the wedding here to Lottie from the convenience store and her eyes lit up, apparently. She’s not dating anyone but she said she’s thinking of putting her name down at the farm for a date in the future – you know, just in case,’ she laughed. ‘She’s already been asking me whether weddings will become synonymous with Mistletoe Gate Farm.’
‘And what do you think?’ He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans so he wasn’t tempted to drum on the work surface again.
‘It’s something to think about, but the future is unpredictable.’ She sighed as though the idea had been there, the enthusiasm building, but now she’d come crashing back down to earth.
‘Fingers crossed for some dry weather,’ he said, attempting to reignite the zeal she’d had moments ago. ‘Although a bit of snow will make it more magical.’
‘You’re quite the romantic. You take after your father.’
‘Dad’s a romantic?’ She seemed to be thinking of better times already. He wanted to get that look back on her face, the one that moments ago had told of all the promises she and Danny had made to each other, of how their special day at the farm had been just the beginning of their lives together.
‘He always was.’
Benjamin couldn’t quite pick up whether she meant that he’d been romantic and wasn’t anymore or that she knew he still was and longed for it to be like that again. It took all of his willpower not to pry about what had gone wrong after all these years.
‘What sort of things did he do?’ He had to keep her on the same trajectory, talking about Danny in a way that recalled the happier times. Maybe it was the only thing that would work and be a reminder that what they had was too special to walk away from.
Benjamin’s attempts to get his mum talking more about Danny were thwarted when Barney got restless and came over.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ Barney didn’t sit still for long – never had, as far as Benjamin knew – and he’d hate being waited on.
‘Grab the biscuit tin.’ Heather nodded to its position next to the bread bin. ‘Take it over to the coffee table. I’ve got some more ideas we need to discuss.’
And just like that, conversation over. Barney took his position on the sofa again, setting the biscuit tin down next to their big notebook with all the wedding plans they’d been working on scribbled on the open pages. ‘He seems happy with the wedding being here.’
Heather smiled. ‘I could hug Tilly for suggesting it.’ She was watching him, but like her, he had no desire to talk about his love life. ‘Invite Tilly for drinks one night,’ she suggested. ‘Although you already did that with the mulled wine. It looked like you were getting along very well.’
‘You get back to your planning,’ he said, shaking his head before he left them to it and headed upstairs to take a shower and get ready for work.
When he emerged from his bedroom he got halfway down the stairs before he stopped at the sound of voices in the kitchen. Barney must have left because he could only hear Heather and Danny. He felt as though he was ten years old again, lurking, waiting until his parents moved from the kitchen to the sitting room so that he could sneak in and grab something extra to eat despite dinnertime being well and truly over.
He heard his dad speaking. ‘I’ve left Parker and Jared in charge. I need to have something to eat.’ When Heather didn’t say anything else, their previous conversation clearly over, he added, ‘I can make an omelette if you’re interested?’
‘No thanks, I’ll eat something more later. I’m still full from my porridge.’
Benjamin crept down the rest of the stairs and hovered behind the door that led into the kitchen and the dining area. From where he was standing he could just about see through the door hinge that his mum had put down the big notebook she’d been using to make the wedding plans and his dad was asking more about it.
‘Don’t you trust me to pull this off?’ Heather asked shirtily. ‘It’s not a frivolous idea, it’s someone’s wedding. It’s a good business move – not that that really matters anymore.’
All Danny did was sigh, a sigh loud enough to be audible even from a distance, and Benjamin realised they were both very much in the know about the divorce. He couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad.
‘Can you work this afternoon?’ Danny asked.
‘I said I would.’ Again, she bit his head off as though she couldn’t tolerate his annoying questions. ‘I have a few things to do, but 2:30 p.m. I’ll be there without distractions.’
Danny seemed to pick up on her defensiveness. ‘Have we really reached the point where we can’t have a civil conversation unless it’s to keep up appearances in front of everyone else?’
His mum sounded exhausted when she told him he was being ridiculous. ‘That’s not the way it is,’ she insisted.
‘Isn’t it?’
Through the crack between the hinges and the door Benjamin could see that Heather had spun around to face her husband. ‘That isn’t what I want.’ She clutched her phone and a set of headphones that she proceeded to untangle when Danny didn’t really answer.
Finally, when Benjamin thought he was going to have to creep away, he heard his dad say, ‘I’ve been thinking, why don’t you book a holiday after New Year? Anywhere – sunny, cold, whatever you choose.’
‘So, you give me permission to take time off, is that it? You think a holiday is the answer to everything?’
‘That wasn’t what I said. You make it sound like I’m patronising you.’
Benjamin moved away quickly, into the downstairs toilet, as his mum pushed her headphones into her ears – a sure sign the conversation was over. She may as well have stuck two fingers up at Danny.
Benjamin had heard them bicker over the years. Everyone did it – no relationship was one-hundred-per-cent perfect all of the time. But the difference now was that they both sounded so defeated.
He heard his mum’s footfall on the stairs, her repeating what sounded like Italian phrases. His parents had honeymooned in Italy – Verona – but it was probably too much to ask that she was trying to relive the good old days. From what he’d just witnessed she seemed more likely to be wanting to escape them.