Chapter Nine
Every now and then, when you’re onstage, you hear the best sound a player can hear.… It is the sound of a wonderful, deep silence that means you’ve hit them where they live.
—Shelley Winters
Mallory’s chest ached as she finished reading an entry in Nan’s journal and looked up at her grandmother.
Nan held up the ornament, rolling the piece of metal between her fingertips and inspecting it as if she’d never seen a nail before. “What did you call this again?”
“The Rustic Nail Ornament,” Mallory said, hoping with every fiber of her being that Nan would remember.
Nan shook her head on a deep chuckle that almost sounded like the old Nan. “The Rustic Nail Ornament,” she repeated. “Who ever heard of such a thing?”
Mallory took hold of the ornament and allowed the nail to sway from its ribbon looped over the edge of her fingertips. “I’m going to hang it on the Christmas tree in the community room. Would you like to come with me?”
Nan blinked. “Yes, I would. We’ll need a ladder. It needs to hang near the top. Fourth from the top,” she said automatically.
Mallory resisted the surge of hope that sprung up inside her. “Oh? Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s where it belongs, dear,” she answered, sounding like the Nan that Mallory had known until about twelve months ago.
That was all Mallory needed. Just that little nugget to keep her going.
“Well, let’s go hang the Rustic Nail Ornament, shall we? I’ll make sure I find a stepladder so that I can hang it, fourth from the top.”
Nan looked pleased, her eyes sparkling.
Mallory helped her sit on the edge of her bed and then transferred her to a wheelchair.
Nan could walk, but she was unstable at long distances, and Mallory preferred for Nan to spend her energy visiting rather than getting exercise.
“Did you enjoy the dance the other night?” she asked as she pushed Nan’s chair.
“Oh, yes. I danced with the nicest man,” she said.
Mallory wondered if she was talking about Hollis. As far as Mallory had seen, Hollis was the only man Nan had danced with. After that, she’d seemed worn-out. Exhausted from either being on her feet or from her emotions.
“A nice man, huh?” Mallory grinned at the description. Nice was an understatement. She rolled Nan’s chair to the tree and stopped when they were just a few feet away.
“It’s so big!” Nan said, as if she’d never seen it.
“The largest from Pop’s Tree Farm.” Mallory’s mind slid back to her trip to the farm with Hollis when they’d picked out a much smaller tree.
Things worked out for a reason though, because if that little tree had gone up in her grandmother’s room, this huge one in front of them probably wouldn’t be here, already full of so many ornaments and memories that belonged to the other residents.
That day at the tree farm was when things had started to change between Mallory and Hollis. There’d been a shift, and Mallory had started to see Hollis differently, as more than a friend.
Nan brought her hands together at her chest and cleared her throat, drawing Mallory’s attention. “Are you thinking about a special someone?”
“Hmm?” Mallory asked, blinking away the memory of the tree farm and refocusing on Nan.
“You’re glowing. Like the tree.” She pointed to the blue fir in front of them.
Mallory shook her head. “No. No, I’m just thinking about, well, a good friend.”
Nan ignored Mallory’s claim. “I had a special person once too, you know?”
Mallory pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat it beside Nan’s wheelchair.
“Who was he?” Even though the journals mentioned a man named Ralph, Mallory didn’t know who that was.
Nan had never spoken about this person who’d been so important to her.
Were the journal writings a false memory that Nan had penned during the initial moments of her Alzheimer’s?
Nan seemed to think, her demeanor shifting from light to heavy as she shook her head.
Mallory reached for her grandmother’s wrinkled hand.
“It’s okay.” She knew how upset Nan got during these moments where she struggled and failed to recall her past. Instead of pressing, Mallory diverted Nan’s attention by holding up the Rustic Nail Ornament again.
“Fourth from the top, right?” she asked with a cheery tone, hoping Nan would relax.
“Yes. Fourth from the top.”
“Okay.” There was a stepladder against the wall that Mallory had used to string the lights.
“I need to hang the first three first,” Mallory went on.
They were in the bag as well. “The Santa Hat Tree Topper. The Butterfly Barrette Ornament. The Wildflower Ornament. Then the Rustic Nail Ornament.” Mallory stood, grabbed the ladder, and set it up in front of the tree.
One by one, she carried each keepsake to the top as Nan watched.
When Mallory was done, she looked at Nan. “I’ll hang some more with you tomorrow. But tonight, I need to get to the theater for the play.”
“Play?” Nan’s face lit up. “Oh, I’ve always loved the theater.”
“Oh?” Mallory asked, as if she didn’t know. “If you want, I’ll take you to the play on opening night. Would you like that?”
Nan looked uncertain. “My home is here now. I don’t want to leave.”
And that’s why Mallory needed to do whatever it took to keep Nan here at Memory Oaks. Whether it meant working extra shifts at the hospital or listening to Maddie justify why they should sell the theater after this final show.
Nan had cared for Mallory and Maddie when they were children, and Mallory needed to return the favor and take the best care of Nan that she could.
Reaching down, she squeezed Nan’s hand. “Let’s get you back to your room, Gr—” She stopped herself, remembering how upset Nan had gotten last time she’d said the grandma word, and continued wheeling Nan to her room where she helped her back into her recliner.
“Okay, off to the theater I go,” she said on her way out. “See you tomorrow.”
“Break a leg!” Nan called behind her, giving Mallory pause. And hope. Nan was still here, though hard to find.
A noise coming from the attic of the theater got Mallory’s attention. The theater was old, and it creaked when the wind blew. Still, she looked up in the direction of the attic as she listened attentively. Then she screamed as the front entrance door to the theater burst open.
“Ho, ho, ho!” Hollis stopped in his tracks and stood on the indoor mat, his brows crinkling as she relaxed back into her natural posture. “You all right?”
Heat crawled up her cheeks. “You scared me.”
“Me?” Hollis dug a finger into his chest.
“You ever heard of knocking?” she teased.
He grinned in response. “The sign on the door says COME ON IN. Want me to leave?”
“Of course not. You’re the first to arrive for play practice. That bodes well for you as our lead actor. Punctuality is a plus. That’s what Nan always said.” Mallory tilted her head. “Speaking of Nan, she told me about that dance you two shared. I think she has a soft spot for you.”
Hollis stood a little taller and puffed out his chest. “Must be my handsome good looks.”
Mallory knew he was only teasing, but she couldn’t argue.
He had a rugged look about him that she’d never really been attracted to.
In the past, she’d dated guys who worked at the hospital, polished and prone to tucked-in polos and fancy cologne.
Not Hollis. He was different, in a good way. “I appreciate how good you are to Nan.”
Hollis gave Mallory a long look. “She means a lot to me too, you know. Your grandmother stood by me at my worst. Can’t say that about too many people. I’m a loyal guy.”
“Is that why you still work on Matt’s construction crew?” Mallory wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she could see that it visibly hit a nerve with Hollis. His gaze dropped, and he shifted uncomfortably.
Hollis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Matt is the dad I never had. And the crew is like the brothers I’ve always wanted. We’re one big extended family. That’s hard to walk away from.”
Mallory understood that perfectly. “I always felt that way here in this theater. The cast was like my family. I’d come home from school, and they’d help me with my homework.”
Hollis grinned. “Same. I loved coming here as a kid.”
Mallory looked around the old, run-down theater. “If these walls could talk.”
“They’d say a whole lot,” he agreed, his voice low, making Mallory lean in. “These walls might tell on me.”
Mallory shook her head. “What do you mean?”
He looked off to the side and then back to her. “I didn’t go after school for Nan’s milk and cookies. Or for the help with my homework.”
Mallory crinkled her brow. “You certainly weren’t here for the plays. You begrudgingly took that role Nan gave you when we were fifteen.”
Hollis stared at her.
“Why did you come here every day?” she asked, suspecting she knew the answer.
Hollis opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the theater door opened again and three more cast members filed in noisily.
She greeted them, and when she looked at Hollis again, his back was to her and he was walking over to the table against the wall where she’d set up supplies for the night.
“Okay, everyone,” Mallory said. “I have scripts printed for all of you. Hollis will hand them to you.” She pointed.
“Grab yourself a copy and start reacquainting yourself with your lines. It’s been a year since some of you have read them, and some of you are completely new.
We’ll do a table reading once everyone has arrived.
There is coffee in the pot on the table as well. And cookies. Help yourselves.”
Most of the actors were the original cast of Santa, Baby, but some folks had moved. A couple had passed away. And a few were unable to reclaim their roles due to personal situations. That’s why Hollis was there to play Santa.
She knew he never wanted to act in another play. Not after the way he royally messed things up that one year as a teenager. He didn’t trust himself. Mallory trusted him though.