Talbot - Last Tree Standing

R EALLY ? You want me to go out at seven at night on Christmas Eve and get a live tree? Foster stared at his roommate, arms crossed over his chest. No way. This was Western Colorado in December. It was cold out there; snowing, even. His balls tried to crawl up into his body at the very thought of going outside, in fact.

Melanie stared back, her eyebrow climbing nearly to her hairline. Yes. I didnt think I would have Casey, but her dad is dropping her off tomorrow so he and the new wife can go to Cozumel. Says flying on the actual holiday is way cheaper. Her foot began to tap, which was a sure sign of impending doom. Melanie was a saint most of the time, but when her ex disappointed their daughter, things got bad.

I thought you said No Christmas this year. Just hanging out in our sweats eating popcorn. Not that Foster was a holiday hater. Far from it. He and Melanie had just made a pact to be alone together, and now he was going to be odd man out.

Im sorry. Blue eyes softening, she reached out a small freckled hand. Well do shots on New Years.

Promise? Trying a grin, he hauled his coat out of the closet and checked to make sure he had his wallet. Casey was a tiny little girl, just like her mom, with freckles and bright green eyes. How could he disappoint his roomies kid and leave her with no tree, no Santa Claus? You got the ornaments and all, right? I dont need to stop at the storage unit?

Nope. Just tree and Starbucks.

Addict.

Always, she said, grinning while she shoved him out the door.

He yanked out his gloves and pulled them on, the frigid Colorado night taking his breath. He loved living at six-thousand feet most of the time, but at twenty degrees on Christmas Eve, it was a whole different story.

Now, where to find a damned tree? He pulled out his phone, then cursed when he realized hed have to take off his gloves to use the touch screen. He sure hoped Melanie had gotten him those tech-friendly gloves hed asked for this year.

Trotting out to the curb, he hopped in his truck, cranking it up to get the heater going. Hed wait for the windshield to defog before he hit the phone again to find a tree lot. Lord help him if he had to go to Walmart and get a fake tree. Melanie would kill him. Her little girls daddy had promised her a real tree and reneged on it. It was up to Foster to make it right.

There should be a tree lot on the corner of North Avenue, down by the college.

He headed out as soon as the truck warmed up enough to grab the steering wheel. Even with gloves he didnt want to grab it ice cold. Sure as shit, there sat the sorry-looking tree lot, all empty, with windblown, straggly twinkly lights.

There was a tree. One tree, which was too big by half, but bright green and healthy-looking, which seemed like a sign. Hed been half expecting a Charlie Brown pathetic tree, but it looked okay. But he sure hoped the stand was still open. He burned through the light as soon as it was green, swinging into the parking lot.

The lot held a beat-up POS Ford and a dude in a jeans jacket with a pair of the longest legs hed ever seen in Wranglers.

Hey! Are you selling the trees, man? Foster hopped out of his own toasty warm truck, his eyelashes thinking about freezing.

Too late, man. This ones mine. The drawl was slow, lazy, absolutely not local. Mr. Wranglers was not the tree man.

What? It was the last tree. No way was Foster giving it up. Dude, I have a little girl coming for Christmas tomorrow who needs that tree.

You should have planned better, man. Mr. Wranglers pushed cash into the hand of an old man standing nearby. Ill put it in the truck.

Wait. He looked at the old guy, who he hadnt seen before now. Ill double whatever hes giving you.

Ive already bought it!

Well, now, the old man said.

Desperation made him turn to the cowboy. Ill give you double what you paid for it. Im not trying to be an asshole, but I need that tree!

Like I dont. Dude, come on. I promised these kids a fucking Christmas and theyre fixin to get it.

Kids? Plural? That might trump him. Your kids?

The kids at the hospital where I work. The group that was supposed to deliver Christmas to them just flaked. Im taking this tree.

Fosters shoulders slumped. Sick hospital kids. Hed have to be a full-time asshole to try to take that tree, and he really tried only to be a jerk part time. Damn. You dont know where theres another lot, do you? he asked the old man.

Im it, man. Sorry. Its late. He shrugged. Try Wal-Mart?

Damn, he said again. He could just go try his luck cutting a tree, he supposed, but if he got caught on BLM land hacking one down, hed spend Christmas in jail. Caseys gonna be so damned disappointed.

The last tree sat in the guys truck, tied down. Good luck, man. Ill keep my fingers crossed for you.

Wait! It was a crazy impulse, but he ran over to the mans truck. Look, I can help you set this up at the hospital and make a donation if you help me find another tree. Two sets of eyes had to be better than one. If there was another lot in town, it would take way less time to find it with help.

Shit, man, you help me set it up, Ill let you have the one I have at my house. Those eyes that met his were almost panicked. The party starts at eight.

Youre on. He didnt ask why the guy hadnt taken the one from his house in the first place. It wasnt his place to pry, even if he was intensely curious about Mr. Wrangler. Im Foster. You going to Community? St. Marys would have a tree already. Those nuns had money.

Yeah. Im Levi. You can follow me and well park in the back.

Sure. Levi, huh? Not Wranglers? Foster chuckled. He knew the way, but he let the cowboy lead. Levi. It was a neat name. They drove to the little hospital, which always looked more like a warehouse store than anything else. They parked, and he hurried to meet Levi at the door, trying to get his ass out of the cold.

Levi hopped out, swiped a card and the big doors opened. They muscled the tree into the back entrance, and damned if Santa central wasnt set up, toys and shit everywhere.

A pretty little blonde in scrubs came up, tinsel making her sparkle. Dr. McBride. Oh, man. You rock.

Yeah. Come on, Jenny. Get a move on. Everyone, hurry.

Youre a doctor? He didnt mean it like it sounded, like he couldnt believe it. The Wranglers had thrown him off. No one expected a doctor to look that hot in jeans.

Oncologist. Can you grab that there box and get with lighting?

Yep. Quickly pulling out his phone, he texted Melanie. G OT TREE . M IGHT BE A FEW HRS . N O COFFEE . S ORRY . Then he got to work sorting lights and untangling ornament hangers. So how did you end up with no tree this late in the game?

A nurse in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer scrubs sighed, her fingers working a new bulb on an old string of bubbly lights. The tree guy at the lot on Patterson was supposed to donate two trees after he closed up today. Too bad he skipped town yesterday and only left pine needles.

That sucks. Maybe he and Melanie would bring Casey in tomorrow with a few toys. He could hit Wal-Mart after he got that tree from Doctor Levi.

Yes, but Dr. McBrilliant here jumped in his truck and saved the day. She raised her voice, loud enough to be heard. If he was only padded enough to be Santa.

Shit. It came out like shee-it when Levi snorted, decorating wildly, draping red garland over everything. Half those kids have panic attacks when they see me; the other half are plotting my immediate demise. I swear to yall, Katie Johnson and Will Deacon want to stuff crayons up my nose and make me drink barium. Besides, how the hell am I supposed to get me a boyfriend if Im puffy?