Chapter Twenty-Eight
Unless the theatre can ennoble you, make you a better person, you should flee from it.
—Constantin Stanislavski
Hollis was a jumble of nerves right now, but at the same time, he felt sure about what he was doing. Mallory had been ignoring his texts and calls, and he didn’t blame her. He’d let her down.
Evan patted Hollis’s back. “I gotta say, I’m relieved you came through, buddy. If Mallory is mad at me,” Evan warned, “I’m going to tell her it’s all your fault.”
“You’re afraid of Mal?” Hollis teased. Then he thought about it and gave a small nod.
“Actually, I’m a little bit intimidated by her too.
” He always had been. She may be small, but she was mighty, and when people let her down, her thin skin thickened.
The shackles around her heart went up, and he knew it wasn’t easy to break them back down.
Mallory didn’t give her trust easily, but when she did, it meant you’d earned it.
Hollis had earned it over the years, especially recently, and then he’d gone and let his emotions get the best of him. To be fair, last night had been rough.
Evan handed Hollis an earpiece. “In case you forget your lines,” Evan explained.
Hollis grunted, finding that humorous. “I know these lines. I was made for these roles.”
“Yes, you were, bud, and after finishing up these first two acts tonight, I’m glad you’re taking the third act back. I prefer to sit in the audience versus being onstage.”
Hollis was glad too. Pulling on the red velvet Santa coat, he checked his reflection in the mirror and put on the iconic red hat. Then he hurriedly pulled on his heavy, black boots.
What if Mallory broke character when she saw him? That was unlikely because Mallory was a professional. When she was in the role of a nurse, she gave 100 percent. And here, in the role of the director and leading actress, she would give her all as well.
A little bell rang twice.
“That’s your cue, bud.” Evan nudged Hollis toward the stage.
The sound meant Hollis was to enter stage left and approach Mrs. Claus.
In the play, Santa had disappeared, overwhelmed by all the demands and expectations that came with being Santa.
No relationship was perfect, and this play was basically a tribute to that.
Even Mr. and Mrs. Claus had their ups and downs—they weren’t always the jolly couple—but in the end, they returned to each other because that’s where they belonged.
Santa couldn’t exist without the backing of Mrs. Claus. And vice versa.
Hollis took a deep breath. Then he entered stage left ready to finish up tonight’s play. As the audience cheered, he let out a booming “Ho, ho, ho!”
Mallory, staying in character, delivered her next line while facing the audience.
Hollis didn’t think she realized that he had replaced Evan.
Folding her arms across her chest, she shook her head and lifted her chin stubbornly.
“I’m not going to fall for that again,” she told Santa.
“You can’t just leave with your sleigh and reindeer one night and expect to return home as if nothing happened.
You can’t expect me to have milk and cookies waiting for you every time you decide to go back to being your jolly self. ”
Hollis continued walking toward her, his boots clicking loudly on the stage.
Then he lifted his arm and tapped her shoulder, as was written in the stage directions.
He softened his voice, but the audience could still hear him through the microphone.
“I don’t expect milk and cookies, Mrs. Claus.
And I don’t expect you to put up with my mood swings. ”
Mallory must’ve understood that it was Hollis’s voice because, when she turned to look at him, her lips parted and her eyes widened just a touch. She had a line to deliver, but she appeared momentarily speechless.
Hollis delivered the line for her, changing it around so that it made sense coming from him.
“I wouldn’t be so moody if I didn’t carry all this responsibility on my shoulders three hundred and sixty-five days a year.
We’re a team, and I understand that now.
You’re always offering to help me and I’m always telling you I can do it myself. ”
Mallory cleared her throat. “I guess I have those same tendencies.”
“We should be leaning on each other when we get frustrated and upset,” Hollis said.
It wasn’t exactly the way the script was written.
But it fit for both the play and for his relationship.
“I lean on you, you lean on me.” Hollis’s eyes searched hers.
“It’s possible that we just fall over on the ground with all that leaning. ”
Mallory lifted a brow, and he couldn’t tell if she was in character or being Mallory, the woman he knew and undeniably loved.
“We could promise to catch each other when we fall,” she suggested.
“Because with all those cookies you’re eating, I’m not sure that I won’t fall over if you lean on me too hard. ”
Hollis belted out a “Ho, ho, ho, ha, ha, ha” for the audience, and laughter broke out in the barn.
The final notes of the Santa, Baby theme song faded away as Hollis pulled Mallory close. The red sequins of her costume sparkled under the stage lights as they shared a tender kiss, bringing Nan’s Christmas play to a heartwarming close.
Then the audience erupted in applause and rose to their feet in a standing ovation.
As the curtain fell, Hollis felt a surge of elation. He’d made it. Despite everything, he’d shown up. He’d honored his commitment to the play, to the community, to Nan, and most importantly, to Mallory.
The cast hugged and congratulated each other, riding high on the success of tonight’s performance.
But Hollis only had one goal in mind. His eyes searched for Mallory, finding her surrounded by well-wishers.
He waited patiently, his chest tight, wondering how this would go.
There were two options. She’d either yell and scream or she’d hug him.
Kiss him. He liked the sound of that last option.
He held his breath as the crowd thinned, and then he approached her. “Mal.”
She turned to him with a guarded expression.
“You were amazing out there,” he said softly.
“Thanks, Hollis.” Her voice was polite but distant. “You did a great job too.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. “I, uh, thought maybe we could talk,” he finally said, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. “I want to explain—”
Mallory took a step backward. “Actually, I’m exhausted, Hol. It’s been a long night… Can we talk tomorrow?”
Hollis’s heart dropped with a heavy thud in the bottom of his stomach.
Looking into Mallory’s eyes, he realized the hurt ran deep.
He was a fool to think this would be fixed with one grand gesture.
He’d have to work harder to win back her trust, her heart.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Tomorrow. Take care, Mal.”
As Mallory turned her back to him and walked away, Savannah and Evan approached. Evan clapped a hand along Hollis’s back, relief evident in his voice. “Man, am I glad you showed up for the final act. I was sweating bullets up there onstage.”
Hollis managed a humorless chuckle, his chest still aching from disappointment. “Thanks for stepping in though.”
Savannah gave Hollis a knowing look, her eyes darting to Mallory’s retreating figure. “Give her time. Just be patient.” She narrowed her eyes. “Same advice I gave you before.”
Hollis nodded. “I’ve never been good at having patience.” But for Mallory, he was willing to wait as long as it took.
As he made his way to the parking lot, Sandy and Matt intercepted him. “Hollis, you were wonderful up there!” Sandy pulled him into a big hug.
“You really were, son. I’m proud of you.” Matt reached out and shook Hollis’s hand.
Hollis looked at the couple. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
Sandy squeezed his arm. “Of course. You’re coming to the house for Christmas Eve dinner on Sunday, right? Matt will be checking Pop out of Memory Oaks for the day, so he’ll be there too.”
A lump formed in Hollis’s throat at the thought of having Pop home for Christmas.
“And, of course, you’re welcome to bring Mallory,” Matt added. “Tell her to spring Nan from Memory Oaks as well. Our table can always fit one more.”
“I’ll ask her,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure Mallory would accept an invitation from him right now.
As he drove home, passing the darkened Christmas tree farm, Hollis felt a pang of sadness. Duke wouldn’t be there to greet him with his usual enthusiasm. But Buster would be waiting, a reminder that second chances were possible.
Pulling into his driveway, Hollis’s mind raced with ideas on how to win back Mallory’s trust. Tonight, he’d made the first step by showing up for the play. That wasn’t enough though. Not nearly. What more could he do?
As he unlocked his front door and Buster’s excited barks greeting him, Hollis felt a renewed sense of purpose.
He’d made mistakes, let his fears and insecurities get the best of him, but he was ready to fight for what mattered—for Mallory, for their potential future together, for the life he wanted to build in his hometown.
He poured himself a glass of water and settled onto the couch with Buster curling up beside him.
Buster whined softly.
“You miss Duke?” Hollis asked quietly. “Me too, buddy. But I’m glad you’re here.
You’re a hero, you know.” He petted the dog’s head and met the dog’s deep brown eyes.
“This is your forever home. I want you to know that. Other dogs may come and go in the future, but not you. You’re stuck with me and Duke.
We’re your forever family.” What every dog deserved. Every kid too.
In the silence of the night, he knew in his heart of hearts that he was a good man. The kind of good man that was deserving of a woman like Mallory.