Chapter Twenty-One #2
Mallory could hear Evan in the background talking.
“Tell Mal that Hollis needs to pull up the senior reading list for next school year,” Evan called out in the distance, “because my buddy has officially lost our bet, and he is now committed to reading a literary classic just like my students.”
“I have no clue what he’s talking about,” Savannah said.
“I do.” And Mallory loved that she knew exactly what Evan was talking about because Hollis had already told her. He hadn’t had to tell her about his promise to Nan, either, but he had, which only made her trust him more.
When Mallory disconnected with Savannah, she wanted to tell somebody else.
She wanted to shout her good news to the world.
Most of all, she wanted to call up Maddie.
Ever since Maddie had started dating and then married Sam, Mallory had slowly felt out of touch with her younger sister.
She’d pulled back from their frequent contact, giving the newlyweds time and space to enjoy each other. But Mallory missed her sisterly chats.
Mallory decided that, even though she might be interrupting Maddie and Sam’s time together, she had something to share, and it was time they caught up with each other’s lives.
Tapping on Maddie’s contact, Mallory held the phone tightly to her ear and waited with anticipation.
“Hello,” Maddie said, breaking into a long yawn.
“Yawning at this time of night?” Mallory teased. “Where is my sister and what have you done with her?”
Maddie laughed on the other line, sounding genuinely happy. “Mallory,” she said, “I didn’t even glance at the caller ID before answering. Everything okay? You don’t normally call at this hour. At least not these days.”
A thread of guilt weaved through Mallory.
“Well, you’ve been a little bit busy with Sam, and all of your exciting adventures with your new friend, Renee.
I just haven’t wanted to interrupt,” Mallory said, keeping her teasing tone.
“Nothing wrong, but I did want to catch up. How are you, Mad?” Mallory asked, making initial conversation.
She couldn’t just start gushing over Hollis immediately. That would be rude.
“I’m good,” Maddie said. “Better than good. We need to have lunch one day so I can tell you everything, but Renee and I are discussing becoming business partners. Sam is all for helping me.”
“Of course he is,” Mallory said.
“I’m just… For a while, I thought my life was over, and now, it feels like it’s just beginning.”
In a way, Mallory felt the same.
“Anyway, enough about me. How’s the play going?”
“Good. Surprisingly, very good,” Mallory said.
“Awesome. I was shocked to hear that you agreed to have Nan’s play at Popadine’s Tree Farm.”
Maddie’s tone hit a sour note with Mallory.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, you know Nan and how she always wanted things to be just so. At least when it came to her theater. I could hardly stand to be there when we were young. No running. No eating. No this, no that. It felt like a prison.”
Mallory didn’t share that opinion, but Maddie had always resented boundaries and rules.
“Believe me, I know Nan was very particular about her theater, and rightfully so. But I think she’d be happy about how things are going.
This year’s play is not the same, but all the important elements are.
” Mallory was about to add that some of the actors had changed and that she and Hollis were playing Mr. and Mrs. Claus.
She didn’t think Maddie had heard about that yet.
Before she could continue, however, Maddie interrupted. “I just think that one of the silver linings of Nan’s declining memory is that she can’t see what’s happening to her precious theater.”
Mallory’s whole mood dropped like a bag of cement in her gut. Instead of responding, she let her sister continue.
“I mean, I saw the inspection report. The theater is falling apart at the seams. I hope it can be salvaged but certainly not by opening night. And did I hear correctly that Hollis is playing multiple parts? I almost wonder if Nan would’ve canceled altogether instead of lowering her standards to having the performance in a barn, of all places.
” Maddie laughed into the receiver. “I mean, I guess Jesus was born in a barn,” she joked.
Mallory didn’t find anything funny. “Jesus was born in a stable,” she corrected.
“Right. Aren’t a barn and a stable the same thing though?”
Mallory suddenly felt numb, and she wasn’t at all in a sharing mood. “Not really.”
“Well, I’m sure we can sell, even if it’s an as-is kind of situation. I know this is harder on you than me, Mal. I was never a theater nerd like you were.”
Were. Past tense. But Mallory’s love for the theater had only been in hibernation, waiting to come alive at just the right time. This Christmas. She had no desire to do theater full-time, but it was fun, and it made her feel a sense of long-lost joy.
“I love Nan, and I know you do too, but that doesn’t mean we should make our lives harder just to keep up something that she can’t really appreciate.”
“Nan is here,” Mallory said quietly. Maddie rarely visited Nan. She didn’t get to see their grandmother’s moments of clarity. And Maddie wasn’t reading Nan’s journal or putting up her Memory Tree, learning a history she’d never known.
“I do feel bad that you got stuck doing all the work for this play. You’re probably miserable doing it all by yourself.”
Mallory clutched her cell phone, debating whether to toss it across the room in frustration at her sister’s tone-deaf, one-sided conversation. Instead, Mallory focused on her breathing and remained silent.
“Did I say something wrong?” Maddie asked.
“No.” Mallory worked to keep her tone of voice light. “You’re right. It has been a lot of work to juggle alongside my hospital job.” This wasn’t the sisterly chat she was hoping for. “But it’s been a rewarding experience. Will you and Sam be there tomorrow for opening night?”
“Oh. That’s why you’re calling,” Maddie said, her voice full of relief.
“Of course it is,” Mallory said, even though the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind until now. She’d just assumed her sister and brother-in-law would go.
“Is the barn even wheelchair accessible?” Maddie asked.
Good question. “We can make sure you’re able to get inside the barn.”
In the background, Mallory heard Sam adding to the conversation.
“I’ll carry you over the threshold of the barn if I have to,” he said sweetly while Maddie giggled.
“Hollis and Matt’s crew have a ready-made ramp they could easily set up before the show.
We’ll figure it out,” Mallory promised. “You should be there.” And the fact that Maddie even had to think about attending was making Mallory irrationally mad right now.
It was the least her younger sister could do after all that Mallory had done for her over the years.
Everyone in this town would bend over backward to make sure Maddie had access to the barn tomorrow night. Maddie just didn’t want to attend.
“Please come.” Mallory was proud of the production. It meant a lot to her, and she rarely asked Maddie for anything, but she was asking for this.
Maddie made another audible yawn. “We’ll see.”
Mallory resisted the tears pressing behind her eyes. She bit her tongue and some of the pent-up things she wanted to unload. “Sounds good. Have a good night.” She didn’t wait for Maddie to reciprocate. Instead, she disconnected the call, feeling deflated and disappointed.
The whole reason for the call was to tell Maddie about all the positives in her life. She’d wanted to tell Maddie about her relationship with Hollis. And the kiss.
But now all she wanted to do was put on her pj’s and climb into bed alone. Actually, she didn’t want to be alone anymore. She’d discovered something better than turning inward when she was upset—and that was turning outward, to Hollis.
The Number 11 Ornament
As you know, I don’t believe in coincidences.
Everything is ordered. Nothing is by chance.
Open the small silk sack, and inside you’ll find a little metal tag with the Popadine Tree Farm logo and the number 11.
It’s a tag from a live tree that your grandfather and I purchased our first year of marriage, the day after Thanksgiving.
Mickey had insisted the tree be live, and there was only one place to get it.
I would have shied away if I could, but that would have raised brows.
So I went, hoping I wouldn’t return again until the following year. Boy, was I wrong.
Here’s the story.
Opening night of a play is like preparing for a wedding.
As the director, screenwriter, and lead actress, I felt the pressure.
Not to mention the additional pressure that my now full-size baby was putting on my bladder.
TMI? We’re family. If you can’t tell your dear granddaughters about things like this, then what is family for?
So, on opening day of Santa, Baby, I was in a bit of a panic.
The excited, good kind. We were just hours before the curtains opened, and then…
disaster struck. When I stepped into the front area of the theater and felt something wet on my feet, I thought I’d wet my pants. Or that my water had broken.
It wasn’t me though. As I scanned my surroundings, with our first live Christmas tree in the corner, I realized the entire room was flooded. My heart slowly dropped as Mickey stepped up behind me. I heard him gasp, and I knew I wasn’t overdramatizing what a disaster this was.
“What are we going to?” I turned toward him, my eyes glistening with tears.
For a moment, Mickey looked speechless. His lips parted, and his eyes were dazed and confused.
“Mickey,” I said again. “Do we cancel the show?” My heart was pounding, and my knees felt weak under the weight of our baby, who suddenly felt far heavier.
The thought of canceling was soul crushing.
We needed to sell tickets to pay the overhead.
If the first production didn’t even happen, then there was a good chance the theater itself might not even survive.
“No,” he said quietly, his eyes becoming clear as he looked at the tree in the corner of the room too. Then he turned to me. “The show must go on.”
I guess people around town think that’s my tagline.
I was always saying the phrase in any circumstance.
But the truth is, your grandfather said it first. “You wrote the whole script. We rehearsed. We have the actors, the props. We have everything except the stage.” He stood there thoughtfully.
I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “I’m going to talk to Ralph.”
“Ralph?” I looked at my husband. Over the last couple of years, Ralph had made a name for himself as the owner of the Popadine Tree Farm.
In Mickey’s eyes, Ralph was old news. I’d dated him in high school before going off to New York, but that was all.
Ralph had moved on and gotten married. According to everyone else, we were history.
My secret was mine, and mine alone. “Why him?”
I could see that Mickey was swept up in his thought process. “I’ve heard talk of him building a huge barn on the tree farm property. I think he had big plans for it, but he ran out of funds. Or something along those lines.” Mickey shrugged.
“I’m not following what you’re trying to say,” I said, preoccupied with Ralph’s name in the same conversation as my play. Hearing his name still flustered me more than I liked to admit.
“The barn, Nan. Ralph is a great guy. I’m positive he’ll let us hold your play there if we ask.”
“You’re suggesting that we put on the production in a barn?
” I asked, equal parts intrigued and appalled.
Theater was meant to be carried out like teatime in high society.
People dressed up. They arrived early because, once the doors were closed, they didn’t reopen until intermission.
Barns were… well, barns were for animals.
Mickey’s eyes lit up as he spoke, suddenly alive with passion.
“The Popadine family is into construction. I’ll hire them to build a stage.
The tree farm has a huge parking lot to accommodate attendees.
It’s perfect.” Mickey looked at his watch and gave a small nod.
Then he leaned in and kissed my temple. “I’ll make the calls right now,” he said before walking out of the theater and leaving me there, still flustered, confused, pregnant, and standing in several inches of water on the floor.
What other options did I have? And, I had to admit, it wasn’t an awful idea. It was perhaps even… genius. Everyone loved to visit Popadine’s Tree Farm during the holidays, especially now that Ralph had taken over, with a healthy dose of change and his undeniable charm.
My only hesitation was the obvious. I was a married woman now.
Pregnant too. I wanted to be a good wife to Mickey, but my heart betrayed me at the very thought of my first love.
In a small town, you can’t escape your first love.
You just can’t. But you could do your very best to avoid that love, which was why Mickey’s idea seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.