Chapter 52

The next day, we drove back out to the Crawfords’ farm for an early Christmas celebration, which began with a delicious country breakfast.

“Wow… you’ve outdone yourself, Bev,” I told Natalie’s mom when I rolled into the dining room and saw the feast she had prepared: egg casserole made with fresh eggs from their farm, sausage, bacon, grits, hash browns, biscuits and gravy.

“It was my pleasure, dear,” she replied with a smile as Natalie filled my plate with a little of everything. “Merry Christmas!”

Mason, who had woken up in a much better mood than he’d been in the night before, could find nothing to complain about this time. He happily dug into the cheesy eggs and even ate a second helping of bacon.

“Well, I dunno ‘bout y’all, but I’m stuffed,” Bill said at the end of the meal, patting his belly. “I think I’d better walk off some of these calories. Care to join me, Kevin?”

I watched his face closely, waiting to see if there was a punchline before I responded, but there was no twinkle in his eye to suggest that he was just joking. And, to Bev’s credit, she didn’t make a big deal about him using the word “walk” around me. That was progress. “I’d love to,” I replied, pleased to be included.

“What about you, Mason?” Bill asked, turning his attention to my son. “Would you like to have a look around the farm and see our animals?”

Mason’s eyes lit up. “Yeah!” he said with an eager nod.

“Why don’t we help clear the table first, and then we can go see the farm?” I suggested.

“That’s sweet of you, dear, but you don’t need to help clean up,” Bev said as she stood up and started stacking plates. “We’ll take care of that, won’t we, girls?” She cast a significant glance from Mindy to Natalie. “Y’all go on and get some fresh air.”

“In other words, get out of our way,” Natalie added in an undertone, winking as she picked up my plate and put it on top of hers.

So, while the women cleaned up the kitchen, Mason and I went outside with Bill. “My great-grandfather built this house over a hundred years ago,” he told us as we headed down a packed dirt path that led to a large barn behind the farmhouse. “The land’s been in my family even longer, dating back to antebellum times.”

“Really? Wow… that’s quite a legacy.” Looking around at the tilled fields, which lay fallow for the winter, I couldn’t help wondering whether slaves had ever worked his family’s land. It wasn’t a large plantation like the ones the South was known for, yet it was certainly possible that a small force of unpaid labor had toiled in these fields prior to the Civil War. Trying to rid my mind of that unpleasant picture, I cleared my throat and added, “My home in Kentucky was originally built in 1824.”

“Yes, Nat said you own a farm as well – but not a working one?” I thought I detected a hint of judgment in his tone, as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live on an old farm without growing crops or raising livestock.

“No, sir,” I said, shaking my head. “When I bought the place back in 2000, I was at the height of my music career and didn’t have much time to devote to managing a working farm. I just wanted a large piece of land somewhere outside the city limits, so I could enjoy some privacy. Then I got married and bought a house in L.A. with my wife, so my old Kentucky home became more of a vacation property, a place to stay when I went home for the holidays.”

Bill chuckled. “Sounds a bit backwards to me. You know, most people who can afford to buy a vacation home get one somewhere warm by a beach. I never heard of someone living in Southern California and calling Kentucky their vacation property.”

“Well, when you travel all over the world for work, the best vacation is just to be home,” I replied breathlessly, already winded from the effort of wheeling myself over the uneven terrain. “I’ll always be a Kentucky boy, even when my feet are in L.A.”

“Nice to see you haven’t forgotten where you came from,” said Bill, giving me a nod of approval. “Natalie’s the same way. No matter where she goes, she’s still a Georgia girl at heart.”

“That’s one of the things I love about her,” I said, smiling up at him. “We may be from different states, but we have pretty similar backgrounds. I lived on a farm – a real, working one – for a few years as a kid before my dad got a job managing a church camp and moved my family into a log cabin in the hills. It was a pretty cool place to grow up.” I wanted Natalie’s father to know that I wasn’t just some rich Hollywood celebrity who had randomly bought a farm in Kentucky just because I thought it was quaint. By talking about my Southern roots, I hoped to earn his respect. “That’s part of the reason I moved back,” I added, glancing at Mason. “I wanted my boy to grow up the same way I did, surrounded by family and nature.”

Bill followed my gaze, watching Mason as he walked ahead of us. “Family and nature,” he repeated with another nod. “And what about God? Are you a religious man, Kevin? You said your father ran a church camp?”

I nodded. “I was raised in the church… and I believe in God,” I answered carefully. In reality, I hadn’t attended church regularly since my dad died, and my relationship with God was complicated. How could it not be, after everything I’d been through? But I didn’t want to tell Natalie’s dad that. I got the sense that he was deeply religious himself, and I worried he would deem me unworthy of being with his daughter if he knew I wasn’t a devout Christian.

“That’s good to hear,” Bill said, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me long after I looked away, as if he could see right through me. I put my head down and focused on the path in front of me as I threw my shoulders into each push, trying to avoid his penetrating stare. “How would y’all like to go to church with us tomorrow morning?” His invitation sounded more like a challenge.

I accepted it without hesitation. “That would be great – thanks,” I responded as we reached the barn.

Bill pulled the door open wide, holding it for me as I wheeled myself through. “You’re very welcome.”

Mason followed me into the barn. “Wow!” he exclaimed when he walked inside and saw Bill’s farm machinery, which included a tractor, a combine, and several other implements I didn’t know the names of.

Noticing Mason’s interest in them, Bill took the time to show him each piece of equipment and explain how it was used. “Wanna take a ride on my tractor?” he offered. “I let Liam ride on my lap sometimes. He loves it.”

Mason’s eyes lit up. “Yeah!” he replied eagerly.

“That okay with you, Dad?” Bill asked, turning to me.

I nodded. “Fine with me.”

He fished a key ring out of his pocket. “I’ve got a livestock trailer I could hitch up to the back if you wanna ride along with us,” he said as he sorted through his keys, trying to find the right one to start the tractor. “It has a ramp.”

As usual, I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I said with a chuckle, hoping he wasn’t seriously suggesting I’d want to be towed around in the same trailer he used to haul cattle. It wouldn’t have been the first time that I’d felt more like a piece of meat than a person.

I watched while Bill drove the tractor out of the barn with Mason in his lap. Seeing my son’s mile-wide grin made me smile, too. “Have fun – and be safe!” I called, waving to him.

“We’ll take it slow,” Bill promised me. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the roar of the tractor’s engine as it rumbled down the path, leaving me in a cloud of diesel exhaust fumes.

I explored a little on my own, enjoying the crisp, fresh air and the bright, warm sunlight while I waited for them to come back.

“What are you doing all alone out here?” Hearing Natalie’s voice, I glanced up to see her walking down the path toward me. “Where did my dad go?” she asked, knitting her brow as she approached.

“He’s taking Mason for a ride on his tractor,” I replied, waving my arm in the general direction they had gone.

“Aww.” Her lips curved into a smile. “He used to let Mindy and me ride around on his lap and ‘drive’ the tractor,” she said, making air quotes with her fingers. Then her smile faded. “He shouldn’t have gone off and left you like that, though.”

“I’m fine, babe,” I said, chuckling. “To be fair, your dad did offer to pull me behind the tractor in his livestock trailer. I think he was just joking, but it’s hard to tell with him sometimes.”

“Oh, Lord…” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “His sense of humor is an acquired taste. I hope you weren’t too offended.”

“Nah. It takes more than that to offend me,” I said, smiling up at her. “Oh, by the way, he also invited us to go to church in the morning. I told him we would.”

“That’s fine. Typical Daddy, trying to save my soul,” she said, smiling back. “He and Momma are always nagging me about not getting to church often enough. But it’s hard when, half the time, I’m out of the country or catching up on sleep on Sundays. I mean, you’ve seen what my work schedule is like.”

I nodded. “You’re preaching to the choir, babe. No judgment here.” I paused. “Did you finish cleaning up already?”

“For now. Momma sent me to find y’all so we can open presents before she starts preparing dishes for dinner.”

“She doesn’t stop, does she?” I said, marveling over the amount of work Natalie’s mother had already put into cooking breakfast that morning.

Natalie chuckled. “No. But she lives for this – having her whole family here and fixing these big holiday meals for us to enjoy together. Believe it or not, she actually likes working in the kitchen.”

“I believe it,” I said with a nod.

We kept talking while we waited, watching for Bill’s tractor to make its way back to the barn. Eventually, it came trundling up the dirt path toward us. When Bill brought it to a stop, Mason climbed down and trotted toward me, talking a mile a minute about everything he’d seen and done. “Dad! We saw cows and chickens, and I got to milk a cow, and look at what I found in the chicken coop!” From his coat pocket, he pulled out a large, brown egg.

“I must have missed one when I did my chores this morning,” said Bill with a wink as he walked up behind Mason. “Your boy’s a good helper.”

“Yes, he is,” I agreed, grinning at Mason. “That’s pretty cool, son. What do you say to Mr. Bill for giving you a ride?”

“Thank you!” Mason replied, turning around to hug Bill’s waist.

Watching the two of them together made me smile. Mason’s only living grandfather was in Kansas, so he didn’t get to spend much time with him. It would be nice for him to have another one someday.

Once Bill had put the tractor back in the barn, we returned to the house, where the rest of the family had gathered around the Christmas tree in the living room. Mason and Liam acted as Santa’s helpers, passing out presents to everyone. When they finished, Liam had a large pile of gifts in front of him while Mason only had a couple from Natalie. “Remember, the rest of our presents are waiting for us at home,” I whispered in my son’s ear, motioning to my own small pile before he could comment on this inequity. Thankfully, he had the sense not to complain.

We took turns opening gifts. When it was my turn, Mason helped me unwrap a big box from Natalie. Inside, I found a new pair of snow pants with a matching jacket. They were black and blue, just like the handbag I had bought her.

“I did some research, and adaptive skiing is definitely a thing,” she said. “So I thought we could plan a ski trip together sometime. You pick the place, and I’ll take care of the plane tickets.”

“That sounds great,” I replied, a lump rising in my throat as I looked down at my new winter gear. My old snow pants had been collecting dust in the back of my closet for the past five years. It would feel good to get back out on the slopes, even if it wasn’t on my own two feet. “Thanks, baby.”

“You’re welcome!” She beamed at me. “Should I open yours next?”

“Go for it,” I said with a nod.

“Hm, let’s see what he got her this time,” I heard Mindy say to her mother, not making any effort to keep her voice down like she had the night before. “A sexy new convertible so she can cruise down the freeway when she’s in California?”

“Careful, Mindy. Envy’s one of the seven deadly sins,” Natalie quipped back, reaching for the red gift bag I’d put her present in without even looking at her sister. She caught my eye instead and rolled hers.

“Yes, well, so is greed… and pride,” Mindy replied in a frosty tone, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Natalie with a hard stare.

“Girls. That’s enough,” Bev reprimanded them, nudging Mindy’s knee.

I could feel my face heating up, probably growing redder and redder by the minute. I resented Mindy’s implication that Natalie was only with me for my money and fame even more than I hated her making snide remarks about my hard-earned wealth. Clearing my throat, I turned to her and said, “Do you know what your sister drives when she’s in L.A.? A wheelchair-accessible van – which is decidedly unsexy.”

“All the more reason for you to gift her a new ride,” Mindy said, grinning at me like she’d been joking the whole time. But her own cheeks had taken on a pink tinge that told me she realized she had gone too far, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it.

I hoped she would eat her words when she saw what was inside the bag, which was clearly not the keys to a new car nor tickets for another trip or any type of luxury brand accessory. My birthday gift to Natalie may have been expensive and extravagant, but I’d gone the opposite route for Christmas, getting her small, silly stuff that I hoped would make her smile.

I waited expectantly while Natalie took a dusky pink t-shirt out of the wad of tissue paper I’d stuffed inside the bag and unfolded it. As she read the white text on the front of it, I watched a mile-wide grin spread across her face. Mission accomplished.

“Oh, my Lord…” She threw back her head and laughed until there were tears in her eyes. “Babe!” she cried, turning to me. “This is perfect! I love it!”

“What’s it say?” her dad asked.

Grinning, Natalie held the t-shirt up so everyone could see the front, which read, If I go missing, I want Keith Morrison to talk about how I light up a room.

Bill frowned. “I don’t get it. Who’s Keith Morrison?”

Mindy giggled. “He’s that old, white-haired guy from Dateline who does most of the murder episodes. You know Nat loves all those true crime shows.”

“Oh,” Bill replied, his frown deepening.

I didn’t fully understand Natalie’s infatuation myself, but I was glad my gift had gone over well with her, anyway. Her family may have felt differently, but no one could accuse me of flaunting my wealth by giving her a fifteen-dollar t-shirt.

Granted, Mindy didn’t seem to mind the fact that I had money when she unwrapped the bottle of fine wine and box of gourmet chocolates I had gifted her. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were pregnant when I picked it out,” I apologized as she looked at the wine label.

“Oh, that’s all right! I’ll save this till after the baby’s born,” she said, setting the bottle aside. Then she lifted the lid off the box of chocolates. “Now, these, on the other hand, will probably be long gone by New Year’s. This preggo mama has a sweet tooth. Thanks, Kevin!”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, relieved that she liked her gift.

Natalie’s parents seemed equally pleased with the presents I’d brought them: a bottle of the same wine for Bev and a handle of Kentucky bourbon for Bill. In exchange, they gave me a jar of homemade peanut butter and a package of peanut brittle. “Bev made it all from our very own crop,” Bill said proudly.

“I’m sure it’s delicious. Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” Bev said with a wave of her hand, then added apologetically, “I wish it were more, but we weren’t sure what to get you, not having met you yet.”

I smiled at her. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Your hospitality in opening up your home and sharing your daughter with me is more than enough. Besides, I know I’m not as easy to shop for as my son is.” I motioned to Mason, who sat on the floor at my feet, playing with the toy tractor they had given him while he waited for his turn to open another present.

On my next turn, Natalie set a silver bag in my lap. “One last gift from me,” she said, smiling.

I shook out a bundle of tissue paper, which contained a Top Gun t-shirt and a gift certificate Natalie had obviously designed and printed herself. It featured a picture of Tom Cruise posing next to his plane from the movie, along with his famous quote, “I feel the need, the need for speed.” Over that, it said, Good for one free flight lesson.

When I gave Natalie a curious look, she explained: “My friend Jana’s husband, Roger, is a retired Delta pilot who now works part-time as a flight instructor in Atlanta. I told her how you’d dreamed of being a pilot, and she talked to Roger about it. He did some research and found out there are adaptive hand controls for aircraft. He’s having a set installed in one of the flight school’s planes, and once he figures out how to use them himself, he’s offered to teach you how to fly.”

I blinked at her in disbelief, tears pressing at the backs of my eyes as I recalled the late-night conversation that had inspired her gift. “That’s incredible!” I replied hoarsely, swallowing the hard lump that had risen in my throat. “I can’t believe he would do that just for me.”

“Not just for you,” she said with a shrug. “For you and all the other aspiring pilots who will benefit from it in the future.”

“Of course.” I nodded, knowing there were probably plenty of other people with disabilities who had dreamed of piloting a plane. This gift would help turn their dreams into a reality. “That’s really awesome. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t feel like enough, but… thank you. Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

“You can thank Roger when you meet him,” she replied, smiling at me. “I thought maybe we could come back down in the spring, when everything on the ground is green and growing again. The patchwork quilt will look so much prettier then.”

I smiled back and nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

While I watched her family open the rest of their presents, I marveled over what a good gift-giver Natalie was. She really listened when I talked and remembered the things I said, then turned them into the most thoughtful gift ideas.

When I told her this later, she just laughed. “What do you get for the guy who has almost everything and can afford to buy just about anything he doesn’t have? Experiences.” She shrugged as she answered her own question. “You give him experiences.”

“Smart.” I smiled, thinking of all the things I’d experienced for the first time since my injury that year: international travel… horseback riding… hiking… sex. She had been with me for almost all of them – and there was at least one item on that list that I literally could not have done without her.

“My momma and daddy didn’t raise no dummy,” Natalie replied with a wink, tapping her temple.

“They sure didn’t.”

The rest of the day passed in pleasant fashion. We spent a relaxing afternoon playing board games, Mason and I teaming up to take on the others at Monopoly. As always, we made a good team: I taught him the rules and helped him count money while he rolled the dice and moved our token – the horse and rider – around the board. But luck was not on our side, and we lost spectacularly to Mindy, who had somehow managed to build a real estate empire on the most expensive side of the board.

“Park Place with one hotel?” she said when we landed on one of the dreaded dark blue properties. “Let’s see…” She pretended to consult the title deed card in front of her, as if she didn’t already know how much damage it would do. “Looks like you owe me $1500. Pay up, Backstreet Boy.” She held out her open palm with a gleeful grin, taking great pleasure in bankrupting me.

For once in my life, I found myself wishing we had landed on the damn Luxury Tax square instead. “What did I ever do to you?” I asked, only half-joking, as I grudgingly made Mason give Mindy the last of our money.

After cleaning up the game and enjoying a delicious Christmas dinner, we ended the evening with a viewing of the original Miracle on 34th Street, which was apparently a Crawford family tradition. “It’s my daddy’s favorite Christmas movie,” Natalie explained as we gathered around the living room TV. “He had a major crush on Natalie Wood growing up.”

“Can you believe I managed to marry a beautiful, brown-eyed girl who looked just like her?” Bill joked, grinning at Bev, who just blushed and shook her head.

Laughing, I glanced over at my beautiful, brown-eyed girlfriend. “Is that why they named you Natalie?”

“Actually, yes,” Bev answered for her. “My due date was December twenty-fourth, so I bought one of those baby name books and made a list of names for a Christmas baby. Natalie means ‘birth of the Lord,’ so it was always on the list. Of course, Bill loved it because of his favorite movie star, but it wasn’t my first choice; I liked the names Holly or Noelle better. We finally agreed to go with Noelle for a baby girl and call her ‘Ellie’ for short because we thought it went well with Melinda and her nickname, ‘Mindy.’ But then, Natalie Wood passed away just a few weeks before I gave birth, and when we found out it was a girl, I knew we were going to name her Natalie instead.”

“That’s right – I’m named after a famous drowning victim,” Natalie added, deadpan.

“Hush, now. She was famous for a lot more than that,” Bev said, frowning at her daughter. “She was Maria in West Side Story! The only musical I can ever convince your father to watch with me.”

“And there’s nothing for me but Maria…” I sang a few bars from Tony’s part in “Tonight” as I turned to face Natalie. “Every sight that I see is Maria!”

She beamed at me, a faint pink blush flooding her cheeks. Next to her, Bev was giving me the same starry-eyed look.

Bill cleared his throat loudly. “All right, I’m startin’ the movie, so y’all better hush up now,” he said, pushing play on the remote.

As the opening credits rolled, we all settled back to watch. Mason initially seemed bored by the black-and-white movie, but as the story unfolded, he became engrossed in the characters’ quest to prove that the Macy’s department store Santa is the real Santa Claus. To my surprise, he made it through the whole film without falling asleep – unlike Liam, who slept through the second half in Mindy’s lap.

We left not long after the movie ended, promising Natalie’s parents we would see them at church bright and early the next morning.

“Did you have a nice time today?” Natalie asked as she drove us back to the hotel in Albany.

I nodded. “Yeah, I did. I enjoyed spending more time with your family. I just wish you could celebrate Christmas in Kentucky with mine instead of being stuck in Munich by yourself.”

“Me too,” she sighed. “But maybe next year.”

Next year. I smiled at the prospect of Natalie and I spending many more Christmases together, our two families eventually becoming one. If our relationship continued to progress the way it had up to that point, I could see that fantasy becoming a reality in the next few years.

But, much like the little girl in Miracle on 34th Street, I didn’t believe in fairy tales. I had thought Kristin and I would live “happily ever after” until a cruel twist of fate had cut our love story short and ruined its happy ending. Although I looked forward to a long future with Natalie, my cynical side was still holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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