Free Forever Country by Brenda Kennedy

 
    He repeats his action and turns the tree
before settin’ it down again. “Here?” He leans back to try to get a
view of the tree.
    “ Nope, spin it
again.”  
    He looks at me and then the
tree. He looks at me again and says, “Savannah Mae, are you pulling
my leg?”  
    I laugh out loud. “Nope.”
is all I can say.  
    Smilin’, he sets the tree down and walks over
to where I’m standin’.
    “ It looks pretty good to
me. Are you sure it’s uneven?”  
    I tilt my head side to
side. “Musta been seein’ things, it looks pretty good
now.”  
    He turns to look at me.
“Savannah Mae, do you lie to your momma with that
mouth?”  
    “ Abel Lee,” I laugh,
“there’s a big difference between a lie and a…”  
    “ White lie?” he interrupts,
laughin’.
    “ No, I was going to say
fib.”  
    “ Same
difference.”  
    Abel builds a fire in the fireplace. He also
offers to stay and make sure the Christmas lights from last year
still work. They do. He also helps me carry up the boxes of
decorations from the basement.
    “ Sawyer Jackson is gonna be
so excited about this. Thank you so much.”  
    “ You’re
welcome.”
    I stand beside him and
admire the tree. “It fits that corner
perfectly.”  
    “ I need to get going. Momma
won’t be happy with me keeping a beautiful woman up this
late.”  
    I feel the heat rise to my
cheeks. I walk him to the door. “Then you shouldn’t disappoint your
momma.”  
    “ Good night, Savannah
Mae.”  
    “ Thank you again, and good
night, Abel Lee.”  
    Abel
    I go home and think about
Savannah Mae. In fact, she’s all I can think about. When she was
telling me to adjust the tree, I could see the mischief in her
eyes. She’s beautiful. I haven’t allowed myself to have a serious romantic relationship since college. I couldn’t. Not after what
happened. I push those memories aside and try to think of something
else. Nothing else comes to my mind but beautiful, sweet Savannah
Mae.
    Momma is in the kitchen
making food for the community meal at the church. She is making a huge pot of beef stew and some
homemade biscuits.
    “ Something hot and hearty
will sure make some people mighty happy,” Pops says, sampling the
stew from the pot.  
    “ Bud, don’t,” Momma says,
swatting Pops’ hands away.
    He laughs and drops the empty spoon in the
sink. Mia pulls the last tray of biscuits out of the oven. Once
they are cool, she’ll place them with the others in the wicker
breadbasket.
    Momma stirs the pot one
last time, before turning off the stove. “Levi, would you go to the
basement and get that box of hats, scarves, and
mittens.”  
    “ What are you going to do
with those?” I ask. I watch as Momma removes her Christmas
apron.
    “ Been buyin’ ’em at
Goodwill and other thrift shops, all year. Thought the good people
of the church could use ’em.”  
    My momma, who doesn’t spend
the money I give her, shops at Goodwill for the needy. She cooks
and donates her time for the sake of the community. I feel so
blessed to have been raised by this woman, but I wonder where I
went wrong. Have I even thought about
homeless people or starving people since I left? I have made
millions in my boxing career, and what have I done with it?
Nothing. Banked it and invested it. I surely didn’t give it to the
church, or to the schools, or give it to any worthy causes. Did
Momma’s goodness and kindness skip me? Did Levi get the good genes
from my family? God, I hope not.
    “ We best be leavin’ or
we’ll be late,” Momma says, gathering the large basket of hot
biscuits.  
    The truck is loaded down with the Christmas
tree, a few boxes of decorations, and the food.
    We arrive at the church and there are just as
many people are there as were here two weeks ago. Savannah Mae and
her son are already here.
    Sawyer Jackson runs up to me and jumps
excitedly. “Thank you for the Christmas tree. It’s really, really
big,” he says as he