Chapter Sixteen
Works of art make rules; rules do not make works of art.
—Claude Debussy
Hollis stared at his phone’s screen for a long moment, reading and rereading the text from Mallory.
Mallory: Theater rehearsal is canceled for tonight.
It was in a group chat for all the cast of Santa, Baby. The last time he’d spoken to Mal, rehearsal was still on. In fact, there was no room for cancellations. Not with the shortened schedule. What was going on?
One of the hired employees for the tree farm slapped a hand across Hollis’s shoulder as he stepped up beside him. “Hey, bro. Why the long face? Another dog out there that you want to take in?”
Hollis glanced over at Damian, who’d been a seasonal worker for Pop’s farm for the last two years. “There’s always another dog. But no, that’s not what I’m looking at.” He shook the phone in his hand. “Rehearsal is canceled for tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be cheering?” Damian would never sign up to take a part in a play.
He’d spent a few years at the local boys home before turning eighteen.
He was still taking the hard knocks that life had handed him and turning them into lessons that would eventually mold him into a central part of this community.
“It’s not like Mal to cancel. Something must be wrong.” Was it Nan? Was Nan sick? “I need to call her,” Hollis told Damian. “You got this?” he asked, referring to the farm. The lot wasn’t busy right now, and the boys knew how to tag and carry the trees up to the front for transportation.
“Yeah. Sure. Between the five of us, we’ll be okay without you, big guy.” Damian grinned. “Go call your girl.”
Hollis would have normally found a teenager talking to him like that amusing, but right now he was too worried.
Hollis had been accused of having a “sky-is-falling” mentality.
The next shoe was always about to drop with him because of the way he’d grown up.
His gut didn’t lie though, and his gut was signaling hard.
He pulled up Mallory’s contact in his phone and tapped to place the call. “Come on, Mal. Pick up, pick up, pick up.” When the call went straight to voicemail, he tapped the screen again. And again. After the third unsuccessful attempt at reaching her, he called Memory Oaks.
“Hey, Francis. Just checking on Nan today. Is she okay?”
“Oh, yes. She’s doing great, Hollis. She just loves sitting in front of that tree in the community room. All the residents love it. The lights are so calming.”
Hollis was relieved that Nan was well, but that didn’t explain where Mallory was and why she’d canceled rehearsal. “Have you seen Mallory there by chance?”
“Today? No, not yet. Should I be expecting her?” Francis asked. “I think she’s having rehearsals at the theater tonight, isn’t she?”
“That’s unclear. I’m actually trying to get a hold of her.” Actually, he hadn’t seen or spoken to Mallory since their date last night.
Their amazing date.
Shopping. Driving through the older neighborhoods in Bloom and admiring the lights and decorations. Kissing. It was the best date of his entire life. Simple as it was, the air had been thick with endorphins.
Was that what this was about? He’d thought the date had gone well, but maybe that opinion was one-sided. Maybe Mallory hadn’t gone home and lain in bed restless and unable to quiet her mind because of how wonderful the night had been.
No. Mallory was a mature adult. Surely, she wouldn’t cancel rehearsal just to avoid him.
“If I see her, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her,” Francis promised.
“Thanks.” After disconnecting the call with Francis, Hollis scanned the lot, studying the trees and listening to the birds while his mind pondered what to do.
Savannah. She’ll know what’s going on.
Tapping on Savannah’s contact, he fidgeted impatiently as the phone rang in his ear. When she didn’t respond, he called Evan.
“Hey, buddy,” Evan answered.
“Where’s Sav?” Hollis asked, skipping pleasantries.
Evan cleared his throat on the other line. “I, uh…”
“I know you know something. If you don’t tell me, I’m heading to your house.”
Evan was quiet for a moment.
Then Savannah took hold of Evan’s phone. “She’s okay, Hollis. She told me she just wants to be alone right now, and I’m respecting that.”
Hollis’s stomach dropped into the pit of his stomach. “Why does she need to be alone?”
Savannah didn’t respond.
“Savannah, please?” Hollis asked a bit more forcefully, feeling a funnel of panic in his chest. “Did something happen? I just need to know she’s okay.” He’d made a promise to Nan last Christmas, but more than that, he cared about Mallory. He cared more than he ever wanted to admit.
“It’s not my place to tell you what’s going on, Hollis. I’m her friend.”
“I’m her friend too,” he snapped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m just… I’m just concerned.”
She exhaled audibly into the receiver. “Fine. The property inspector came to the theater today and delivered some pretty bad news. From the sound of it, the theater is in not-so-great condition. It didn’t pass inspection.
The theater is not fit to hold an audience for the holiday play,” Savannah said.
“And it’s definitely not in condition to sell. ”
Hollis shook his head. He’d been inside the theater recently.
He hadn’t seen any signs that anything was amiss with the building.
Granted, his attention was usually on Mallory when he was in the theater, but he would have noticed if conditions were so bad that it couldn’t pass inspection. “That’s not possible.”
“Well, that’s what happened. I was there.”
Hollis felt like someone had reached into his chest and grabbed hold of his windpipe.
“She didn’t tell me. She hasn’t responded to my messages all day.
” He’d peppered a few texts in Mallory’s direction from the farm today between talking to customers, teaching the boys about the job, and working with the dogs, telling her that he hoped she was having a good day.
That he was thinking of her. That he couldn’t wait to see her this evening.
“She’s pretty devastated. She can’t afford the repairs,” Savannah said. “I mean, that’s the main reason she’s working so many extra shifts at the hospital. She can barely afford to keep Nan at Memory Oaks.”
Hollis didn’t speak for so long that Savannah finally said his name. “Hollis? Are you still there?”
“I’m here. Where do you think she’d go to be alone?”
“The point of being alone is to go where others can’t find you.”
“When people say they want to be alone, that’s usually because they don’t trust others with their emotions. Mallory can trust me. Where is she, Savannah? Please.”
He heard her soft exhale on the other line. “If I had to guess, she’d be somewhere in her car driving.”
“Driving?” Hollis asked.
“That’s what she does when she’s upset. She drives.”
How the heck was he going to find Mallory if she was driving all over Bloom? “Any other tips?”
“She likes to eat cheesy fries when she’s upset. Or she did when we were younger.”
“Cheesy fries? From Daryl’s Diner?” Hollis asked. He somehow doubted Mallory still enjoyed grease and ketchup, but he was willing to flip the entire town upside down to find her… and hold her.
“Okay. Thanks for the tip. Let’s hope she’s there.”
“You’re going to look for her?” Savannah asked.
“Let me know if you find her. I want to make sure she’s okay too.
As okay as someone can be when they’re losing a family member to dementia and struggling to keep that person safe.
And also balancing the expectations of the town and their obsession with this play on her shoulders…
Wow, Mallory really is under a lot of pressure. ”
Just like Nan had predicted last Christmas. “I’ll find her,” he said.
Even if it took him all night.
An hour later, Hollis had driven from one end of the county to the other and back.
He’d gone to Daryl’s Diner three times, driving around the lot and looking for Mallory’s car.
And in the process, he’d had a lot of time to think.
Men were fixers. Isn’t that what everyone said?
And he was even more of a fixer than the average guy, thanks to Matt.
If the play couldn’t happen at the theater, there was nothing saying it couldn’t happen somewhere else.
Think, Hollis, think.
A text came through, and Hollis immediately snatched his phone, expecting it would be a message from Mallory. Instead, it was from Damian about the tree farm, giving updates on sales and goings-on. The kid was a godsend this season.
Damian: Closing up now. Just giving you an update, boss.
The tree farm’s hours were different during the week, based on the day. From Monday through Thursday, five thirty was most cost-effective because most sales happened on the weekend, between Friday and Sunday.
Hollis: Great. Thanks, bud.
As Hollis started to put his cell phone away, an idea clicked into place like a missing puzzle piece.
Of course. The play could happen on Popadine’s Tree Farm—if Pop agreed.
The property was more than big enough, with generous parking space.
All it would really take was for Hollis and the construction crew to build a modest platform as a stage inside of Pop’s large, empty barn.
In just a couple of hours’ work, they could bring the props over from the community theater.
Veering toward Memory Oaks, Hollis went to speak to Pop directly.
Fifteen minutes later, he had Pop’s blessing.
Hollis had even gotten a friend to donate all the seating inside the barn—the same chairs that had been used for Maddie’s wedding to Sam last summer.
Matt owned outdoor heaters for the construction crew when they worked in the most frigid temperatures.
With a few texts and phone calls, Hollis felt confident he’d solved most of Mallory’s dilemma.