Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I've already gotten on this! You guys are absolutely amazing. ;w; It's making me even more excited to write the rest of this out!
I admit, this chapter is a little rushed, mostly because I had finals at college today. However, it's a lot longer than I expected it to be! I hope you enjoy it! c:
Day Two
When Jamie is a little older, he becomes a sort of Christmas tree connoisseur. It used to just be a matter of their parents taking them to some parking lot next to a contractor's building and picking one of those pre-cut trees. Not so much anymore. No, now, Jamie gets outright picky.
For half a week prior to the designated day when the family goes to get a tree, Jamie scours newspapers and websites for actual Christmas tree farms. Not parking lots or florists. He wants to go to a legitimate farm where the trees grow and aren't cut down until you say so. Then, he researches which tree is the absolute best, considering needle holding, needle softness, branch firmness, and every other tiny detail he can think of. In the end, it's the Balsam Fir tree that he decides is the best.
The day before they go to get the tree, Jamie clips a newspaper ad featuring a tree farm just north of Burgess and something about half prices on something, but Jamie doesn't care so much about that. He's done his research, and Three Hills Tree Farm and Gift Shop seems to be the most opportune. So, he goes downstairs after he gets ready for school, and as he and Sophie eat their cereal, he subtly sneaks the clipping across the table, where he knows his dad will sit later. It's a brilliant, cunning plan, he thinks. Jack would probably be proud of him for it.
However, when he gets in the car later, he's met with terrible news.
"Jamie, honey, you do realize that tree farm is thirty miles away," his mom says. Well, at least she saw the ad.
Immediately, he resorts to the power of whining. "But moooommm! They're cheap and they have all sorts of stuff and you can take a hayride to get your tree! That's gonna be so cool! Besides," he pauses. He cranks up the sheer power of the puppy dog eyes, of which he's trained in the art. "Don't you want me and Sophie to be happy?"
He can't help but grin when his mom sighs and rubs her forehead. For a long moment, she's quiet, and there's only the sound of the engine and Sophie humming to herself in the backseat. Then, she sighs again. "Fine, but just this once," she bargains. It's good enough for him.
-
The next day is Saturday, and as soon as Jamie and Sophie finish breakfast, they bundle up and get in the car. It's snowing lightly already, just a few loose flakes that gently sway in the wind before they hit the ground. As they drive, Jamie watches them with wide eyes. Although he can't see him yet, he's certain it's Jack's way of being excited, too.
Sophie kicks her feet back and forth on the booster seat next to him, and sings some kind of made-up song about ducks and bunnies. Jamie looks over conspiratorially at her, a grin stretching across his face. "Hey, Soph. If it keeps snowing all weekend, we might get a snow day!" he says.
Immediately, she breaks into a smile that's missing one tooth. "Snow day!" she echoes happily.
"Ah, I wouldn't bet on that," their dad says, sounding amused. "The weather report says it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow."
Sure, the weather report says it, but if Jamie has any say in it (and he certainly does), there's a guaranteed snow day come Monday morning. So, he fakes disappointment, but privately winks at Sophie, who giggles and continues kicking her feet.
-
Three Hills Tree Farm is exactly what Jamie pictured. It operates out of a rustic red barn, which doubles as the gift shop. The trees stretch onward seemingly forever in each direction, with sections of certain trees marked with makeshift wooden signs. To Jamie and Sophie's delight, there is indeed a hayride, pulled by two enormous tan-colored horses. Sophie hops up and down and pulls on their mother's sleeve.
"Can we ride that? With the horsies? Pleaaaassseee?" she begs.
"I don't see why not," their mother responds with a smile. "But let's go get our tree first, okay?"
"Okay!"
As Sophie continues cooing over the 'horsies', their dad walks over to two men standing by a rack filled with hacksaws. Jamie follows him, and gapes at the chainsaw sitting by one of the men. Beside that is a tree shaker, which is running with a deep hum that makes the ground shake a little bit. While he stares at that, his dad rents one of the hacksaws, then has a quick conversation with one of the men who is wearing a Yankees hoodie. They joke for a second (mostly things Jamie doesn't quite understand) before his dad waves at them with a smile and walks back over to the girls.
"Alright, ready to go get the tree?" he says, mostly to Sophie.
"Yep, yep!" she cheers, and then begins to skip ahead of them, singing something about trees to the tune of 'Jingle Bells'.
Their mom chases after her, warning her not to get too far ahead. Jamie takes the opportunity to lay out something like a Christmas tree manifesto. "Okay, it's gotta be a Balsam Fir. They don't lose their needles easy, and they have sturdy branches. We need sturdy branches, right? And it has to be just the right height. Not too big, and not one of those wimpy ones. Just right." He holds his hand up and pinches his finger and his thumb together for emphasis.
"Jamie, slow down there," his dad laughs, shaking his head. "We'll get the right tree. Don't worry about it."
He's a little worried, especially if it's a-god forbid-spruce. They certainly don't need Abby rolling around in dropped tree needles, let alone attacking tree ornaments on flimsy branches.
They walk by the pines, and their mom suggests a nice-looking Scotch Pine. It's nice, Jamie admits, but it's not the right one. Although it's right up there with the Balsam Fir in terms of collective score (and Jamie kept count), its needle sharpness was pretty awful. And after a quick test of running her hand down one of the branches, their mom admits with a pained hiss that yeah, it's a bit sharp.
So, after giving the thumbs-down to any of the White Pines ("Good, but their branches are flimsy," Jamie explains), Jamie manages to corral them toward the fir trees.
"Okay, tree expert," their dad says with a laugh. "Lead the way."
Jamie does so, darting between trees before he finds at least three rows of just Balsam Fir trees. However, some are too tall, others too short. One actually looks like it's missing half of it, somehow. After scouring the first two rows, he almost sighs in defeat. Almost.
That's because at the very tip of the third row is the tree. It's not just the tree because of its height (which is perfect), or how it looks in general. It's that the whole tree is delicately coated in light snow, just enough on each branch, as if it was made to look that way. In fact, when Jamie's mom rounds the corner to see what he's staring at, she gasps.
"Oh, it's so pretty," she says, and Sophie echoes her with a sing-song chant of 'pretty, pretty!'.
"This is it," Jamie affirms. He stops himself before he utters a 'thank you', because he knows who did this. So, instead, he smiles gratefully and mouths the words while his parents are looking over the tree. As if in response (though, not so much 'as if', as it is 'definitely'), the wind kicks up, causing some loose snow on the ground to fly through the air in a sparkling mist. Some of it gets caught in Sophie's hair, and she bursts into laughter.
So, after their dad gets in a rather impressive battle with a hacksaw, they get the perfect Christmas tree. Then, right on time, the hayride passes by them, the back of the wagon empty. The man driving the horses waves his hand at them, asking them if they want a lift.
-
Jamie considers the entire day a success. They even got apple cider after all was said and done. By the end of the day, the tree was put up in its stand, with the promise to decorate it the next day. Yet, even without the decorations, it looked perfect.
He sits in his room, a notebook balanced on his knees as he marks 'Christmas tree' off a list with a check mark. So, maybe he's pushing it a little bit with a to-do list, but that's the fun of it, honestly. It's hardly finished, though Jamie assures himself that there's plenty of time to fix that. In fact, one object on the list can be marked off right now.
Clambering off the bed, Jamie walks over to his window and looks outside. It's a clear night, without a single cloud in the sky. The stars shimmer as bright as they can, though the sight of a nearly full moon is far more impressive. With some effort, Jamie wrenches the window open, instantly being met with a rush of frigid air that causes him to shiver. He crosses his arms over his chest and peers outside, looking right and left for any sign of a hoodie-clad spirit.
Then, Jack appears right in front of Jamie's face, as if he just magically phased there. Obviously, he didn't, as after Jamie gets over his initial shock (which manifests as a loud gasp before he reels back and nearly falls over his bed), he sees that the spirit is just hanging upside-down from above Jamie's window. Jack snickers as he does an elegant flip and lands in Jamie's room, leaning on his staff. "Did I scare you?" he asks with a crooked grin.
"N-no!" Jamie stutters, quickly sitting back up and trying to compose himself.
Jack laughs, walking back over to the window and sitting on the edge of the windowsill. "Busy day, huh? I saw your tree's already up," he says, and the look on his face seems to say 'you're welcome' without him having to say a word.
"Oh, yeah!" Jamie exclaims, eyes brightening. "It was perfect. Like, just the right size, and the right kind, and... well, everything!"
The excitement is contagious, and Jack even finds himself getting a little giddy at the thought of it. "No problem, sport. Just trying to spread the holiday cheer a little. Though, seems like you're doing a good job of that on your own, honestly," he replies, lightly gesturing with his staff at the tiny replica of a Christmas tree sitting on Jamie's desk. "What's got you all in the spirit, anyway?"
"I dunno! I mean, I liked Christmas before I met you guys, but it kind of just makes it cooler now! Like, now that I know Santa is this super cool Russian guy with tattoos and huge swords and stuff!" Jamie attempts to explain, complete with wide, wild hand gestures.
Again, Jack laughs. It's a good explanation as far as he's concerned. He's even noticed that all the kids who were there the night they fought Pitch seem to be almost just as excited as Jamie. Though, Jamie certainly takes the 'Most Spirited' award, easily.
Then, Jamie pauses, a thought seeming to dawn on him. He leans forward on his bed, his expression growing a bit more serious, though with the edge of excitement still there. "Can I ask you a favor though?"
"Of course you can."
Immediately, Jamie reaches behind him to his end table, picking up his notebook and pen and tapping something on the page that Jack can't see. "Uh, can you make it a snow day on Monday? I'm not talking like just a foot or two."
"Full-tilt blizzard, huh?" Jack chances. He can see where this is going.
"Yeah!" Jamie replies, seeming a little relieved that Jack appears to be onboard with the idea. After all, that's Jack's job, or at least what he enjoys doing. Jamie learned shortly after meeting Jack that all the snow days he had ever had were Jack's doing, and once Jamie thought it over, he realized that there were a lot.
"I'll see what I can do," Jack says with amusement, reaching out to ruffle Jamie's hair.
The boy laughs and tries to smooth his hair out. By the time he looks back up, Jack's already gone, with a tiny trail of snowflakes following him out the window. It's to be expected, after all.
-
Sunday is sunny, just like Jamie's dad says. For Jamie's friends, all hope for a snow day seems to disappear. However, Sophie isn't disappointed in the least. She marches through the house wearing her hat and scarf, chanting the words 'snow day' with each step. Jamie can't help but smile when he sees his parents looking at each other while laughing and shaking their heads.
Monday morning, though, is a very different story indeed. The weather reports say it's a freak snowstorm, and that meteorologists are still puzzling over the new, bizarre weather pattern. All of Burgess is buried under nearly three and a half feet of snow, with icicles hanging from every awning and powerline, the streets covered in layers of snow and ice. Even by morning, it's still snowing, though it's been reduced to a steady downfall of light snow. Naturally, the schools are closed in several counties, and it takes every bit of self-control Jamie has not to burst into laughter when he sees his parents staring at the weather report in complete confusion.
"Looks like Jack Frost was a bit busy," his mom says, tilting her head as she sips at her coffee.
Jamie wants to tell her that she has no idea how right she is.
