Chapter Nineteen #2
Mallory pulled off the gray wig of Mrs. Claus with a sigh of relief, still reflecting on her youth and the theater.
On Daisy and Nan. Now that Mallory was reading Nan’s story, she understood the woman behind her grandmother so much more.
She wished she’d known earlier all the things Nan had been through, so she could’ve spoken to Nan about them.
She wished she could’ve asked questions, because there was so much more she wanted to know.
Details that only Nan could fill in and maybe never would.
“So, how’s it feel to play Mrs. Claus?” Savannah stepped into the dressing room. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.
Mallory looked at Savannah through the mirror. “Amazing.”
Savannah waggled her brows. “Is it playing Mrs. Claus that’s amazing or playing the other half to Hollis Franklin?”
If Mallory were honest, it was both. Okay, maybe one was more fun than the other, but she was still nervous about ever allowing herself to fully fall for Hollis.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t tell me. I’m only your best friend who you’re supposed to share every detail of your life with.” Her expression turned serious. “The fact that you’re holding your feelings closer to your chest tells me everything I need to know.”
Mallory began to pull off the heavy red velvet dress, transforming herself back into herself. A single, almost thirty-year-old woman who was well on her way to becoming a burnt-out nurse.
“I like him,” she told Savannah, turning to face her friend.
“Well, duh,” Savannah said with a small laugh. “Is that all the tea you’re going to spill?” She lifted her brows high on her forehead.
Mallory had been keeping the kiss she’d shared with Hollis to herself. She was savoring it and protecting the moment from outside opinion. Looking at Savannah now, though, she suddenly wanted to talk about it. “We’ve only kissed once,” she finally said.
Savannah squealed softly. “Now we’re talking!” She pointed a finger in Mallory’s direction. “And, for the record, he doesn’t kiss and tell because Evan knows nothing.” Her friend rubbed her hands together. “Is he a good kisser?” Savannah asked.
Mallory pretended to zip her lips, but heat burned her cheeks. “I don’t kiss and tell either,” she said, hesitating before saying more. “But yes, he is.”
The Friendship Ornament
The Friendship Ornament is in the box labeled number 10.
It’ll be a tiny red box. Inside, you’ll find a safety pin with sparkling, eye-catching beads threaded through the pin.
It was probably made as a friendship item.
I remember when that was a popular trend.
When I found the beaded safety pin on the ground outside my doctor’s office, I needed a friend more than anything.
I picked it up and put it in my pocket, drawing comfort from it somehow as I walked inside the building.
Now, the lost and found item is part of this Memory Tree. A crucial part.
Here’s the story behind it.
The cast of Santa, Baby had been rehearsing three times a week for over a month, and everything to that point had been running so smoothly.
The actors were fantastic, the set was coming together beautifully, and Mickey…
oh, Mickey. He was the perfect Santa to my Mrs. Claus.
After Michael’s stillbirth a couple of months earlier, I had worried it might create a distance between us.
But if anything, we were more in love than ever.
Then one morning, I woke with a start, my stomach lurching. I barely made it to the toilet before the contents of my stomach came rushing up. Was this the flu? No, no, nooooo.
I headed down the stairs, but the smell of coffee only made my nausea worse. Mickey was at the kitchen table with a newspaper laid out in front of him. When he looked up, I remember how his ready smile dropped.
“Nan? You okay, sweetheart? You look a little green.”
I didn’t want to worry him. “I’m fine, just a little queasy. Probably something I ate.”
He immediately got up and poured me a glass of water, leading me to the chair that he had been sitting in.
“I can’t be sick. I can’t direct this play if I’m laid up in bed. And I certainly can’t play Mrs. Claus if I feel…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I sprung up out of the chair and raced down the hall toward the bathroom.
I was sick. Oh no. “What if I’ve infected the entire cast?” I cried to Mickey with my head over the toilet. It wasn’t like me to cry in front of him. “If we all come down with the flu, the play will be ruined.”
“It’s okay, Nannie. If you’re sick, it’s probably just a twenty-four-hour thing. The play is a week away. It’ll work out… But to be safe, I think you should see Dr. Webber today.” Mickey placed a hand on my back. “I’ll call and see if they can fit you in this morning.”
An hour later, I parked in the lot in front of my doctor’s office and walked across the pavement as a light sprinkle began to fall.
Something caught my eye just before stepping under the awning.
A little safety pin strung with colorful beads that made a lovely rainbow design.
I don’t know why I picked it up, but I put it in my pocket and continued into the office.
It wasn’t until I was sitting on the exam table in Dr. Webber’s office, my legs swinging nervously, that I pulled it out again, admiring it.
All my senses were heightened in the moment.
The paper crinkled beneath me as I shifted my weight, waiting for the doctor to return and tell me it was nothing. I was fine.
“Well, Nan,” he said, finally walking in, “I know what’s going on with you. You’re not sick.” Dr. Webber cleared his throat. “You’re pregnant.”
The words hit me like a physical force. “Pregnant? But-but… How? Well, I know how, of course. Mickey and I have been… well.” I looked away. “But after the stillbirth, I thought…”
A whirlwind of emotions swept through me. Terror was the first. After losing our first baby, the thought of going through that again was almost unbearable. What if something goes wrong? What if my body can’t handle it?
But right on the heels of that fear was a glimmer of excitement. A baby. My rainbow baby. My eyes dropped to the beaded safety pin in my hand and then the tears broke out.
“Nan?” Dr. Webber’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“Yes?” My voice shook as I sniffled, closing my fingers around the safety pin. “I-I’m just surprised.”
Dr. Webber sat on a stool in front of me. “I know this must be overwhelming, especially after what happened before. But, Nan, this pregnancy looks good. Strong. We’ll monitor you closely, of course, but there’s every reason to be hopeful.”
Hopeful. The word echoed in my mind as I left the doctor’s office. Hopeful. I placed a hand on my still-flat stomach, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that there was a new life growing inside me.
As I drove home my thoughts grew louder. The worries, fear, everything grew louder. How was I going to tell Mickey? How would this pregnancy affect the play?
As I pulled into our driveway, though, a sense of calm settled over me. Yes, I was scared. Yes, this was unexpected but it was also wonderful.
Mickey was in the backyard, stringing lights on the big pine tree out back. His face lit up. As he walked toward me, he held out his arms. “Nannie! You okay? How did it go at the doctor’s? Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.”
“Mickey, I… I’m not sick. I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips.
The string of lights slipped out of Mickey’s hands. Uncertainty flashed in his eyes, as if maybe he thought I was joking or he’d heard me wrong. But then his face broke into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
“We’re… we’re having a baby?”
“We’re having a baby.” I nodded, laughing and crying at the same time.
In an instant, Mickey swept me up into his arms. Then he set me down gently, as if I might break.
“A baby,” he said again, his voice full of awe.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at me. “I’m not afraid, Nannie.
Scratch that. I’m terrified, but I’m not going to give in to the fear.
I’m going to lean into the joy, and whatever happens, from here until the end of time, I’m going to stand with you. ”
I pulled back and looked up at him. “The play.”
“It’ll go on, Nannie. Even if you use a barf bag between scenes.
” He laughed, running a hand through his hair.
“You know the show will always go on, and I support that. I’ll make sure that always happens because whatever is important to you is important to me.
” His gaze seemed to drop to the rainbow-colored safety pin that I had attached to my jacket.
Lifting a finger, he traced the beads. “What’s that? ”
“A sign, I think. A good sign.” I nodded to myself. “The show will go on and this baby will join the cast.”