Page 30 of The Forever Christmas Tree

“Hey, guys! I wasn’t expecting you today,” Wendy said.

“Drove all night. Geek is a maniac on the highway,” the Hispanic one told her.

“How would you know, Jam?” Baby Face/Geek countered. Jam? The guy’s name is jelly? And the other one is a geek? “You slept the whole way from Jersey. Your snores sounded like a foghorn when we crossed on those ferries.”

“Those ferries! Man, they get old fast,” contributed the Italian/Greek military god. “Is that linguine with clam sauce I see that lady eating over there? Or how about the smell of that pasta sauce? I’m starving.” He sniffed the air which was redolent of seafood and garlic and rich red sauce.

“You better not order Italian, if you’re going to eat here,” Wendy advised. “We’re having lasagna for dinner. By the way, how did you know I was here?”

“Stopped by your house. Met the senior squad. They were doing the Watusi. Man!” Baby Face/Geek winked at Wendy.

For some reason, that wink really irritated Ethan.

“Yeah, we know about the lasagna,” the Italian/Greek put in. “Elmer Fudd made me give his sauce a taste to see if it had enough Parmesan. Guess he figured that my being Italian made me an expert. It was gooood!”

That settled it, as far as this guy’s nationality. Italian. And what was that about Elmer Fudd? Oh, he must mean that little bald guy who recently moved into the house.

“Babe,” the Hispanic jam dude said to Wendy, “those churches out there on the square are seriously amazing. I can’t wait to explore.”

Ethan was even more irritated at the endearment and wondered why a Navy SEAL would be so interested in churches.

“Forget the holier-than-thou crap, Father Mendozo. I can’t wait to get in some winter surfing,” Baby Face/Geek said.

“You’ll freeze your balls off, idiot,” the Italian said.

“Yeah.” Baby Face smiled as if that were a good thing.

Ethan found himself studying the three men, wondering which, if any of them, was Wendy’s lover. Considering the way times had changed—the way Wendy had changed—maybe they all were. There was a thought to pierce his heart.

Just then the two churches and the town hall clock did their bell thing, tolling once, twice, in succession, each a different tone thanks to the Bell Forge craftsmen.

The three men stopped talking and listened. Then, as one, they said, “Cool!”

On that note, Ethan left.

Wendy never even noticed.

Fatherly advice . . .

Wendy watched with a heavy heart as Ethan walked away.

This has to stop.

Now!

I’ve come too far to let a man . . . any man . . . that man . . . turn my life upside down . . . again.

She settled the guys in at the restaurant and told them she would meet them back at the house. Before she left, JAM squeezed her arm and asked in a soft voice, “Is he the one?”

“The one what?” she replied, walking toward the door, not bothering to wait for his answer. Behind her, she heard him say to the other two, “Yeah, he’s the one.”

JAM caught up with her outside the restaurant and said, “I’m not really hungry. Mind if I walk with you?”

She shook her head.

At first, they just walked in silence. Here and there, people would recognize her and shout out.

“Hey, Wendy! Merry Christmas! Glad to see you home.”