Chapter 21 Clara
I HAVE A HUGE PAPER cut because Elf is onstage dressed like a donkey and I don’t know how to be normal about it.
It’s totally my own fault, but when Jack walked him out, his little chunky body wiggling beneath the grayish sweater—Elf’s, not Jack’s—I completely lost my mind and managed to drag the lethal edge of the pamphlet right down my index finger.
It immediately resulted in Dove squealing loudly about not getting blood on the paper, rightfully so, and I was sent to the table in the corner away from anything of value to wait for a first aid kit.
I take a seat at the center of the table and watch everyone working around each other while simultaneously working with each other. It’s a fascinating system of people who have clearly done this together many times.
“Causing trouble, Davenport?” Jack’s deep voice is laced with humor as he approaches holding a Band-Aid.
“They’re making you help me? When your wife is about to give birth?”
He smiles as he takes my wrist, holding my hand up to inspect my finger. “I have time. Only been turned away by one innkeeper so far. Mel keeps messing up her lines so I’m free while Flo drills them into her.”
Mel looks like she’s about to run away as Flo works with her on the edge of the stage. Nobody can tell me why she’s wearing a fake pregnancy stomach when this isn’t a dress rehearsal. I’ve asked at least three people.
“I got so excited at your donkey that I gave myself a paper cut.”
“Understandable.” Jack moves closer until his thighs are pressed up to my knees. He leans over my straightened finger and pulls out a disinfectant wipe sachet from his back pocket. “This might sting.”
I mumble a series of curse words into my uninjured hand’s fist as he wipes the blood away. “How can a paper cut feel like a stab wound?”
“I’m sorry. Nearly done,” he says gently.
The Band-Aid has dinosaurs on it and frankly, it’s the only good thing to come out of the situation. “Thank you. You’re going to be great putting those skills to use during childbirth.”
“Can you be trusted to return to the playbill station or should I get Flo to assign you the role of placeholder sheep?”
“I’m a really bad actress. We did Annie when I was in middle school and I couldn’t even handle the pressure of Unnamed Orphan. I’m much more of a judgmental audience member than an artist. You’ll see when you receive my review of your performance.”
Jack steps back and holds out his hands to me, taking mine to help me slide off the table. “Can’t wait to hear your in-depth thoughts.”
“No man has ever said that to me about anything, ever,” I say teasingly. “I’ll be giving Elf a rave review, just so you know.”
“Obviously.”
“Did he miss me today? It was weird having no one around to lick my feet.”
“I think there are apps that can help you solve that problem, Clara.” He dodges the poke to the ribs. “Yes, he missed you today. It feels super quiet and empty now. As soon as Luke fixed the radiator in your room, Elf went and slept on your bed.”
I swear I hear my heart crack open. “I’m going to cry. You can’t let me go back to the program table, I’m going to flood it with tears.”
Jack wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me slowly toward where I’m supposed to be working. “Think happy thoughts.”
He smells like aftershave and soap, something woody and spicy. It’s completely distracting in every single way possible. “I can’t think happy thoughts. I’m being picked up soon to be taken to my parents’ house.”
“Patched her up for you,” Jack says to Dove, pulling out my chair for me to sit back down.
“Well, aren’t you a hero,” Dove says playfully. “You technically patched her up for Flo, because I’m not cruel enough to subject anyone to such a boring task.”
“Guys, speaking of Flo,” I say warily, “I’ve had an idea that I want to run by her, but I’m scared to. I’m both in awe and terrified of her.”
They both nod like they know the exact type of fear I’m describing.
Flo is so sure of every single thing she says that it begins to wobble the confidence I have in myself.
I feel like as soon as she has a question I’m not ready for I crumble under the pressure of wanting her approval so badly.
In the beginning it was because she’s the deciding factor in my promotion.
Now it’s because everyone in this place respects her so much and I want her to like me .
“Hit us,” Dove says enthusiastically. Sailor doesn’t look up from her book on the other side of the table.
“I’ve been thinking about how to encourage people to spend as much money as possible at Small Business Saturday. What about a passport? Each store is represented and when someone buys from that store it gets stamped or crossed off, or something. If you buy from every store you get a prize.”
Jack and Dove are listening carefully. “What would be the prize?” Jack asks.
Great question. “Uh, I don’t know. Something simple and inexpensive. People love earning something free. My brother’s recent interest in tennis made me think of it.”
“She’s going to tell you that it’s too late,” Dove says. “If it isn’t weeks in advance, she isn’t interested.”
I considered this while I was trying to figure out how to pitch this idea to her. “It’d take me thirty minutes to whip up something to print. I can buy thick high-quality paper on Friday and complete everything. I bet I could find stamps on Friday before I come back from the city.”
“I can make stamps,” Jack says. “Sails, want to make some stamps with me?”
Sailor doesn’t look up. “No, thank you.”
“Great, but that wasn’t the right answer,” he murmurs. “I like it, Clara. I think it’s a good idea. I’ll get Flo.”
I want to tell him to wait as he heads toward the stage, where Flo is still guiding Mel.
I feel like I need more time to come up with a well-thought-out pitch, but in reality, my car will be here soon.
Flo is the most intimidating woman I’ve ever met, and yes, I’m slightly obsessed with everything about her.
“I believe you have a proposal for me, Clara,” Flo says as she approaches our table.
I relay my idea to her in a slightly more enthusiastic and professional version of how I told Dove and Jack. As expected, she says there isn’t enough time.
“I think it’s a really good idea, Ms. Flo,” Jack says.
“I do too,” Dove adds. “I’ll come up with a prize.”
Flo looks as shocked as I do that Jack is taking my side. “Okay, I’ll tell Arthur. Give me an update on Friday, Jack?”
“You got it.”
I don’t even have time to celebrate because my cell phone starts vibrating on the table, letting me know my car has arrived. “I have to go,” I say, the words struggling to come out. “But I’ll be back.”
“Have you finally replaced me in town as the fixer?” he says, cocking his head. “I know I always say you’re capable of anything, but I’m not sure you could unclog a drain.”
I smile, look down at my phone clutched between my hands. “Your role is safe for now. It’s my car service calling to let me know he’s outside.”
Jack nods, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Have a safe trip home.”
I debate if it’d be appropriate to hug him goodbye and settle on no, not here.
Time seems to move slower as I grab my bags from the back of the room and head out to the car.
There’s a longing I don’t recognize as the car gets farther and farther away from Fraser Falls.
My phone lights up with an incoming text from Jack.
When I open it it’s a picture of Elf in his donkey outfit.
I’m not even ten miles away and I’m already pining to go back.
Knowing I’m trading in the simplicity and community of the place I’ve been calling home to overanalyze every mention of work my dad makes to my brother is the worst. Jack is going to spend the day alone and I’m going to spend the day miserable. I don’t know why I’m doing it.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but could you please turn around?”