24. Will
Chapter twenty-four
Will
I ’d never been to anything like the Holiday Hoopla. Maureen and I walked the length of the event, which extended from the business district to the town’s main park. Intermittently, we held hands, but mostly she needed hers to hold the phone steady as she filmed everything she saw.
We stopped to get donuts and hot chocolate. We played a beanbag toss game to benefit the Rotary Club and entered a raffle to support the local Little League. Several bands played along the park’s long walking trail, and a group dressed in Victorian garb strolled past us singing Christmas carols. There was a Ferris wheel and a merry-go-round, and a hay bale maze decorated with lights in the shape of stars. The PTSA for the elementary school had a craft booth set up, and kids laughed as they used Mod Podge and tissue paper to make colorful mason jar candle holders.
Underneath the streetlamps, connected by lit tinsel garland, tables displayed handmade ornaments and crafts for sale. The pace of movement along the trails and sidewalks remained glacial, not only because the last of the snow on the ground was melting but because people kept stopping to wish their neighbors happy holidays.
Maureen paused often to chat with carnival-goers—some she seemed to know well and others she didn’t—pulling out the little mic attachment from her purse to interview anyone willing to speak on camera. She asked about their style, the holidays, fashion, Coleman Creek, and whatever else seemed natural.
I enjoyed watching her work and taking part in the festive atmosphere.
I hoped that was what I was, too—a part of it. Not just on the periphery. Not just in Maureen’s life because of happenstance. If I hadn’t fallen, I would have been back in Seattle by now, and I doubted we’d have gotten as far as we had this past week. But however I’d arrived here, it was exactly where I wanted to be.
My thoughts kept going back to what Katy’s very wise three-year-old had said.
It doesn’t look very nice, but it’s okay.
The story of Maureen and me hadn’t been very nice so far. Not neat, or clear, or calm. From the beginning, there had been heat, mutual attraction, and admiration. A rare level of connection. But there had also been lies and half-truths, cowardice and pain. Years of silence. Anger and misunderstanding. Penance. Grace.
So much intensity between us. Yet now—there was this.
Fingers entwined. Our relationship as scarred as my hand. It would never look entirely nice, but it was okay.
“Hey, Will?” Maureen’s voice broke into my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Do you mind if I take a solo ride on the Ferris wheel? You shouldn’t risk it because of your head, but I’d love to get some fun shots from the top if I can.”
“No problem. I’ll go back to the park and check out the bands. You can catch up with me there.”
“Just don’t get too close to the instruments, okay? That wouldn’t be good for you either.”
I grinned at how she couldn’t stop playing nurse. “I’ll be fine. The lights and the sounds have been okay so far, although I wouldn’t mind taking a break on one of those benches.”
She bit her lip.
“Go!” I encouraged her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. But I’m just gonna take one quick ride and then I’ll be back.”
“Take your time.”
I watched as she strode off before turning toward the park. Not too far from the entrance, I saw the blond-haired teen from the high school booth quietly strumming his guitar on a bench.
I pulled up next to him, remembering Marley’s intel that he’d had a tough time the year before. “Daniel, right?” His fingers fell from the strings as he furrowed his brow at me. I hurried to reassure him I wasn’t a weirdo. “We met a few hours ago at the Coleman Creek High booth. I’m Will, James’s—uh, Mr. Wymack’s—friend.”
He dipped his chin. “Hey.”
“Your playing is really good.”
“Thanks.” He looked at the ground.
Stilted silence hung in the air. The last thing I wanted to do was make him uncomfortable, but before I could walk away and leave him to his playing, a group of young women came along the path. As they passed, one of them stopped short.
“Oh my gosh! Daniel! Hey!” She came over to us. “I’m so happy to see you!” The girl, who looked around eighteen, gave Daniel a megawatt smile. She bent down to hug him tightly, careful not to crush his guitar. “I just got into town, and I was going to message you,” she gushed. “I want to make sure we hang out before I go back to school.”
Daniel’s cheeks flushed. He awkwardly patted her back before she pulled away. One of the other girls called out in an annoyed voice, “Come on, Nan! We were supposed to be at the big tree ten minutes ago.”
“Oh, shoot.” The young woman—Nan—reached out to squeeze Daniel on the shoulder. “I’ll send you a snap. Can’t wait to catch up.” She rushed off after her friends, waving cheerfully and shouting, “Bye!” over her shoulder.
I watched Daniel’s eyes as they followed her, staring until she was out of sight. He looked like he’d been hit by a truck.
“She seems nice.” I gestured to the bench next to him, and he shrugged. I sat down. “Friend of yours?”
“I guess. She went away to college a few months ago.”
“Does she know you like her?” He jerked his head to face me, blushing furiously, and I immediately regretted my words. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. It’s none of my business.”
His eyes flashed for a moment before he sighed in defeat. “Is it that obvious?”
“Hey, you don’t need to be embarrassed,” I said, holding up my hands. “And you don’t need to talk if you don’t want to. I just had to sit down because I’m recovering from an accident, and I wanted to get off my feet for a minute.”
Daniel traced his fingers over the frets of his guitar. Even though I’d had more bravado at his age, I could see myself in him. The red face. The lack of true confidence. I wished when I’d been sixteen, I’d had someone to tell me it was fine to be awkward and artsy and imperfect.
“I’m probably not as good at talking to students as Mr. Wymack or Ms. Davis,” I told him, “but just so you know—from my perspective as an outsider, based on what I just saw—Nan seems to like you too.”
He slumped against the bench. “She only thinks of me as a friend. Her much younger friend.”
“Well, that may be true now, but I wouldn’t worry about it. You have lots of time. You’re what, a sophomore?”
“Junior.”
“And she just started college, which means she’s only two years older. That’s nothing. Plus, that gap will feel even smaller in the future.”
“It doesn’t feel like nothing. She acts like I’m her little brother or something,” he grumbled.
“Just wait. Trust me.” I pointed at Maureen, now visible in the distance, chatting with folks outside the park entrance. “See that woman?”
“Ms. Davis’s sister?”
“Yep. She’s two years older than me.”
Daniel volleyed his eyes to Maureen again and then back at me. “Are you telling me that because you like her?”
I nodded. “I figure you might appreciate knowing someone else is in the same boat. I like Maureen, but I’m not exactly sure what will happen next. Kind of like with you and Nan.”
He appeared thoughtful for a moment, repositioning his guitar to face me. “Does she like you back?”
“I’m fairly certain she does, but I think it’s hard for her to trust her feelings. And I don’t want to push. So right now, I mostly just try to be around her as much as she’ll let me.”
Daniel gazed into the distance before asking, “Why can’t she trust her feelings?”
“It’s not something I can discuss with a sixteen-year-old.” I rolled my shoulders. “How about we go back to talking about you and Nan?”
He sidestepped my attempt at redirection. “It might be alright to push, just a bit, to at least make sure she knows how you feel.”
I glanced over at Maureen, looking like some sort of Christmas fairy bathed in the silvery glow of the twinkle lights. Daniel made a decent point. Even if Maureen wasn’t ready to make firm plans or call us a couple yet, she deserved to know I was all in.
“Daniel, has anyone ever told you that you’re a genius?” I joked.
He grinned shyly. “You could do something epic. Like last year, when Mr. Wymack made that embarrassing slideshow presentation for Ms. Davis at the talent show.”
I laughed. “No. She doesn’t like big scenes. If I did something like that, it would be like saying I don’t know her at all.”
He pursed his lips, drumming his fingers against his thigh. “You know what you should do?”
“What?”
“You should buy her the best Christmas present ever.”
Hmm. I hadn’t thought about getting her a gift. But of course I should. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
I chuckled again as Daniel began putting his guitar into its case. “Got any gift ideas, oh wise teenager?”
“They were selling some fun crocheted tablet holders by the donut booth.” Daniel’s expression stayed so blank that I wasn’t sure he was messing with me until he cracked up. What a cool kid.
I spoke low as Maureen drew closer to our bench. “Daniel, thank you. I’m going to take your advice.”
I reached out my hand, and he shook it, seeming not to notice the missing fingers. “No problem, um, Mr.—”
“Call me Will.”
“Will.”
“And Daniel? Something tells me one day Nan will wake up and notice what a great guy you are.”
He gave me a skeptical smile. “Uh-huh. Well, I’m just gonna try to be around her as much as she’ll let me.” He slid off the bench with his guitar. “See ya.” He headed off toward the park entrance.
“What were you talking about with Daniel?” Maureen asked as she sat down next to me. “I got some great footage of him earlier.”
“Nothing much. Mainly Christmas shopping.”
When I woke up the following morning , I found Maureen sitting at the kitchen table on her laptop, humming along to Andy Williams on the vinyl player. We’d made a plan to leave Coleman Creek no later than ten so we wouldn’t get stuck driving over the mountain pass in the dark.
“You’re up early,” I said.
“I got inspired after the carnival. I worked on the piece a little last night and then got up this morning to finish.”
“You finished?”
“Like I said, the muse just hit me.”
“Can I see?”
Maureen hesitated briefly before turning the computer in my direction. “I guess it doesn’t make sense not to show you if I’m planning to put it out into the world.”
“I’m sure it’s great.”
She hit the play button.
A soft piano version of “It’s Beginning to Look Like Christmas” played in the background, and images Maureen had filmed around town filled the screen. Clearly, she’d been capturing the footage for a while, as some clips were taken in the daytime. The big town Christmas tree loomed large in the shot before the camera panned back onto Main Street, highlighting the decorated storefronts and sidewalks. A succession of still photos followed. The Hawaiian-shirted Santa outside the bowling alley, the handmade snowflakes in the hospital waiting room, the tree lot at the high school. Sped-up video of the carnival booths from last night followed, then a driver’s-eye view through some residential neighborhoods decked out for the holidays. On top of all of it was Francesca’s voiceover.
“It’s the holiday season in Coleman Creek, my hometown. You’ve already met my friend Katy, and since so many of you liked that video, I thought I’d show you a little more from my non-fashion life… I’ve been back in town for a few months now, getting excited to celebrate the holidays, and it’s got me thinking a lot about ‘Fashion Vibes with Francesca.’ When I started this channel, my day job was in high-end fashion. And while that was exciting, and I met so many amazing people, it didn’t entirely feel like me because it didn’t allow me much opportunity to explore my belief that fashion is for everyone. That’s why this channel was born. If you want to see me demonstrate how to make the latest trends accessible for lots of people or show you what outfits regular folks are wearing around Seattle, please check out my backlog of videos.”
The footage slowed to real time, and the shots became images of people at the carnival—laughing, drinking hot chocolate, playing games, browsing the craft booths, and smiling at one another. If I hadn’t been there myself, I might have imagined it was staged. The distinct small-town energy and everyone looking so relaxed and happy.
Francesca’s voice continued, “I’m proud of all the fashion-focused videos I’ve done, but this isn’t that. It’s Christmastime, and I’m feeling sentimental, so this is a love letter to my hometown. I left this place thinking I’d never want to come back. I didn’t think there was a place for my love of fashion in Coleman Creek. But what is fashion other than simply the clothes we put on?
“My friend Katy was brave talking about her divorce. Now I want to be brave, too. Clothes are the way we express ourselves to others, but they can also be the way we put up walls, a way we hide. If you watched Katy’s video, then you also know fashion can be a way we heal.”
The video cut to Maureen’s face. She sat on the bed in her room at Marley’s, Oscar and Bambi resting their heads on her thighs. Since she wore the same clothes she’d had on yesterday and the video was taken at night, she must have filmed it after the carnival, after the rest of us had gone to sleep.
“This has been an interesting December for me,” she said. “I realized that I’m healing too. I’m still getting over my mom passing away a few years ago, and I’m coming to terms with the fact high fashion isn’t for me. I was using my job to maintain a hard exterior, to hold myself back from others. And it was okay for me to do that because I’d been hurt.
“One thing I loved about fashion, even when I was little, was that it gave me a chance to express myself. To wear colorful scarves or put on a ton of bracelets—what every toddler does when given access to a jewelry box. Over time, I lost that magic, that whimsy. My concerns became taking care of everyone else and pleasing others. I’m sure a lot of you can relate.
“Moving to a big city and working at a high-end boutique was what I needed at the time. Because I still felt most comfortable hiding from the world. But now I need something else, and it took the magic of Coleman Creek at Christmas to show me. Now, let me show you.”
The video went back to the carnival, to some interviews she’d done. As expected, the sound quality wasn’t great, so there were subtitles.
First, she interviewed Fel and his friends in the high school booth. There was b-roll footage of the kids helping customers buy bake sale items and messing around with one another. Over this, Francesca narrated, “These teens are just like I was in high school. Loud, opinionated, and eager to get the heck out of Coleman Creek.
“So, I want to ask you guys lots of things, but first I have to ask about fashion. Is there anything you can tell me about the way kids dress in Coleman Creek?”
“Um,” Fel said, looking back and forth to his friends, all of whom were cracking up. “That’s kind of a weird question. I mean, it’s mostly just hoodies and sweats or whatever, I guess. I don’t really think about my clothes.” He shrugged his shoulders as one of his buddies smacked his head.
“I think that’s most people’s approach,” Francesca replied. “I’ve found while doing these videos that there aren’t a ton of people out there who plan their outfits. When I’ve talked to teenagers in Seattle, they say the same thing.”
“Then why do you ask?”
“Just to warm people up. If I know we’re going to start out a little awkward, there’s nowhere to go but up.”
A red-headed boy with metal braces flicked Fel’s arm. “Funny. That’s Fel’s approach to talking to girls.”
Fel slugged him lightly. “Shut up, douchenugget. It’s not like you’re any better.”
The kids laughed.
“Well, there are some clothes I think about,” one of the other boys, a big linebacker–type with a black beanie, chimed in. “Like, if I know I have a game, I have to make sure my uniform’s clean—”
“Oh!” a girl in the back piped up. “There’s also, like, prom and Spring Fling and stuff. My mom always takes me to the mall in Spokane when we have a formal.”
“Deadass,” Fel said. “I had to get a suit for a dance. I wanted to get something different, like blue, but my mom made me get dark gray because she said I’d be able to use it for more things. Like funerals.”
“Your mom said that?” Francesca laughed off camera.
“Yeah. She’s really practical.”
“My mom was the same,” Francesca said. I doubted the kids registered the catch in Maureen’s voice, but I heard it.
The same girl who had mentioned shopping in Spokane spoke up. “I can’t wait until I’m an adult and can buy whatever I want.”
“Do you think you’ll live somewhere other than Coleman Creek?” Francesca asked.
“Oh, for sure.”
“Definitely.”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m leaving as soon as I can.”
All the teens chimed in. Francesca gave them a moment to high five one another before walking away and filming herself selfie-style, close to the camera so it could pick up her words.
“I was just like those kids. I wanted to leave so badly. And I guess I had to do it—just like they’ll have to—in order to appreciate what I had here.” She pointed the lens back at the kids, clustered around one another, talking and sipping hot chocolate. “They’ll always remember growing up here. Sitting in this booth. Complaining about how things are boring or corny. But they’re excited about the holiday dance and the talent show. Someday they’ll appreciate how everyone in town cared about their futures. No one can be a nameless face in the crowd here because the crowd’s too small. That used to bother me, but now I realize it makes me feel safe. Loved. It feels like home.”
The video continued to other interviews. And there was no escaping her instinct to focus on the clothes. She complimented folks on their jackets and beanies, and voiceover Francesca asked her audience to post in the comments whether they were “ team peacoat or team puffer coat .”
Maureen couldn’t be overly sentimental for too long, either. She had to stop and have fun, take a breather with a joke. I’d learned that about her these past few days—Maureen wore her heart behind well-timed quips.
Near the Ferris wheel, Francesca caught up with Travis and Vivienne with all four of their children. The couple spoke of how much they loved celebrating Christmas with a house full of children, and how blessed they were to have presents under the tree. The older kids mentioned sledding and holiday shopping. Scarlett held up the candleholder she’d made at the craft booth. Connor—who had noise-canceling headphones over his ears—looked directly into the camera and said, “It’s an okay carnival. But the hot chocolate this year was not as good as last year. Pretty terrible, actually. The tree is better, though.”
Francesca laughed, and a montage of other neighbors played.
“I’m excited for Christmas karaoke at The Landslide.”
“We’re going to Grandma’s house for turkey and mac ’n’ cheese!”
“I like the way they play old Christmas movies at the bowling alley.”
“The Holiday Hoopla feels old-fashioned. I love that it’s the same for my kids now as it was for me growing up.”
“We always bring cookies to the hospital and the police department on Christmas Eve.”
“I like all the penguins at my dentist’s office.”
“Did you see that Mr. Bailey came back? And he’s married? Like, I can’t believe someone married him.”
I was mildly surprised Maureen left in that last one, but from what I’d gathered after meeting Mr. Bailey, he’d appreciate the humor.
At the end of the video, we were back with Francesca on the bed with the dogs.
“I hope you enjoyed this brief tour of my hometown. Maybe it’s not as cute as the little Christmas towns you see in the movies, but there’s something special about it. Or perhaps that’s just how everyone feels about the place they grew up. I hope so. I hope you all have places that make you feel like this.
“I found safety in big city anonymity. When no one knows you, there’s no one to hurt you. No one to fail in front of. But that kind of security made me lonely. And since this is a fashion vlog, let me tell you I wore the hell out of that loneliness. Wore it like a suit of armor. Absolutely slayed in it. But much like the leather fringe skirt I wore in middle school, it doesn’t fit me anymore. In this town, I don’t need to hide away. And no one else needs me to, either.
“I hope you all find a reason to heal this season, to feel fulfilled and loved. My holiday wish for everyone is that you can find the things that help you be bold.
“So, whether you’ve got on a peacoat or a puffer coat, I hope you’re wearing a persona that feels comfortable and authentic for you. Thank you so much for letting me show you Coleman Creek. I hope you love it as much as I do.”
Francesca gave a wave to the camera, and there was one last shot of the dogs in Santa hats underneath the Christmas tree before the video faded to black and the “like and subscribe” prompt appeared.
Maureen shut the laptop and turned to me expectantly.
“It’s fantastic,” I said honestly. “I mean, it’s not new or earth-shattering or anything like that, but somehow, it's fresh. And it should be corny, but instead, it feels…relatable. It’s hard to be cynical after watching that.”
“That’s kind of how I felt at first when I finished. I thought it was too sweet, like eating an entire batch of cookies. But that’s because I’m so used to having a side of negative with anything good. Except there’s no way to make this dark. Even the teens wanting to leave, Connor being unenthusiastic about the hot chocolate, dissing Mr. Bailey—” She smiled. “Somehow it all comes out optimistic.”
“Because it’s real,” I said. “And people are going to love it. At least the ones who don’t have cold, dead hearts.”
“From your lips. But I’m going to make, like, five very basic fashion-focused videos in a row after this one. I’m done opening my veins to other people for a while. It doesn’t come easily.”
“I know.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “And you’re ready for any troll-like comments that come?”
“Like Katy said, ‘the Internet’s gonna Internet.’”
I laughed. “That’s true. The haters can fuck off.”
“All the way off,” she agreed, uploading the video. “And maybe there’ll be some non-haters who like it. Regardless, I needed to make it. For me. And for you.”
That got my attention. “Me?”
“Yes. Obviously, Francesca’s viewers don’t need to know our situation. But when I said I was healing, one thing I was referring to was forgiving you and getting over that anger.” She peered up at me with big eyes. “And when I said I was done throwing up walls, wanting to be my authentic self… Well, I guess you can consider that an invitation.”
My breath caught in my throat until I dared ask, “An invitation to what?”
She twined her five fingers with my three. “Into my life, Will. Behind my armor.” In a small voice, she added, “Please don’t make me regret it.”
I hugged her fiercely to me. “I won’t.”
It was a promise I intended to keep. But watching the video, seeing how far she’d come in dealing with the remnants of her past, made me realize I had some loose threads of my own to tie up.
Suddenly, I knew what to get Maureen for Christmas.