21. Colette
COLETTE
T he faculty Christmas party is in full swing, with teachers clustered around high-top tables draped in burgundy linens in the ornate banquet room at Bella Luna Ristorante.
The restaurant's crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the faculty party, and the scent of garlic and marinara mingles with pine from the decorated trees.
The school really went all-out this year. There's even an open bar.
I adjust my sparkling snowflake brooch, my gaze drifting to Hendrix, who's chatting with the football coach near the antipasto display. He looks unfairly handsome in a navy blazer that makes his shoulders seem even broader than usual.
"Colette, my dear!" Mr. Phillips, the retired head of the history department who taught me as a teen, wobbles toward me on crutches, with a cast-covered leg dragging behind him. "I need to tell you something terrible."
"Oh my goodness, what happened?"
He sighs. "Black Friday at the mall. Margaret insisted we drive to Toronto for the doorbuster sales.
I got trampled by a mob fighting over the last Baby Yoda plush.
" His cheeks are flushed pink, probably from the wine flowing freely this evening.
"Three people stepped on my leg before security could fish me out. "
"That's horrible!" I steady him as he nearly tips into the dessert table. "Careful there. How many glasses of Chianti have you had?"
"That's not important." His eyes get misty.
"I can't be Santa this year. Twenty-three years I've played Santa in the pageant.
Twenty-three years of ho-ho-hoing my way to baby Jesus in that final scene.
" He sniffs dramatically. "I thought I’d be good as new by now but the doctor says I can't kneel with this broken leg. I've ruined everything."
“You haven't ruined anything." I pat his arm. The pageant will be fine."
"The children expect it, you know?"
"Mr. Phillips, please don't worry. I know several men in town who could step in. We'll find the perfect Santa replacement."
"But who else can capture the gravitas of Santa kneeling before the Christ child?" He dabs at his eyes with a red cocktail napkin. "The spiritual weight of that moment?"
“No one could possibly fill your boots. But we’ll make due.”
He grabs my hand. "You're an angel, Colette. A Christmas angel."
I help Mr. Phillips into a chair and flag down a passing waiter. "Could you bring him some garlic bread and coffee, please?"
Making my way across the room to where Hendrix stands, I'm intercepted by Janet from admin. She latches onto my arm, launching into a detailed account of her cat's recent dental surgery. I nod politely while watching Hendrix over her shoulder.
"Excuse me, Linda. I need to discuss something with Coach Ellis about the winter program." I finally manage to break free, only to find Wade and Sarah have joined Hendrix, with their newborn bundled against Sarah's chest.
"She's beautiful," I say, peeking at the sleeping infant.
"Thanks." Wade stifles a yawn. "Though I wish she'd sleep more than twenty minutes at a time."
Sarah bounces little Emma gently, dark circles prominent under her eyes. "We just needed to get out of the house. I'm going stir-crazy counting dirty diapers."
"The walls were closing in," Wade adds, taking a long sip of his drink. "We figured a quick appearance wouldn't hurt."
Sarah adjusts the baby blanket. "I'm not great at pumping yet, so Emma had to come along. But honestly? I'd take a party with a baby over another night staring at our living room walls."
Wade keeps glancing at the coaching staff gathered near the bar, his fingers drumming anxiously against his glass.
I notice the way his eyes linger on his replacement just a touch too long.
"The team's doing great under your leadership, Hendrix.
Really great." He clears his throat, and there's an undercurrent of something that sounds suspiciously like worry in his voice.
"Almost makes me feel unnecessary." The words hang heavy in the air, and I can't help but wonder if he's regretting taking his paternity leave.
"Yeah, the team's doing great," Hendrix says diplomatically.
Wade rocks on his heels. “I’ll bet you miss playing the Blizzard Dome, eh? You probably want to get back to Toronto.”
Where was this guy when I was trying to drive Hendrix out of town? We could have exchanged notes.
"The kids are really responding to Coach Ellis," Sarah adds, giving me a knowing look.
But Wade's already launching into suggestions about practice drills and game strategies, while Sarah's expression grows increasingly stormy.
"I'm sure Hendrix has other commitments to get back to,” Wade continues. “Besides, Sarah's got things under control at home, right honey?"
Sarah's smile tightens slightly. "I mean, we're managing..."
I feel my stomach drop. Of course Wade would want to come back early. And of course Hendrix would jump at the chance to return to his real life. Why did I let myself forget this was all temporary?
I mumble an excuse and bolt from the group, my heels clicking against the tile floor as I make my way toward the restroom.
The walls feel like they're closing in, and I need space to breathe.
To think. Of course Hendrix would leave - he was always going to leave.
That was the whole point of my stupid bet with Daisy.
I barely make it halfway down the dimly lit hallway when I hear footsteps behind me.
"Colette, wait." Hendrix's voice stops me in my tracks.
I turn to face him, my heart skipping a beat at the unfamiliar hardness in his eyes. Gone is the playful sparkle I've grown used to seeing, replaced by something darker, more intense.
"What's bothering you?" he asks, his jaw tight.
"Nothing. I just need to use the bathroom." I gesture vaguely toward the ladies' room door, but he moves into my path.
The fluorescent hallway lights cast harsh shadows across his face, making him look almost like a stranger. Something's wrong - I can feel it in the way he's holding himself, shoulders tense and jaw set in a way that makes my stomach twist into knots.
"I heard something interesting today." His voice is low, controlled. "Can you guess what that might be?"
My heart stutters in my chest as I try to decipher his expression. Before I can respond, Janet appears out of nowhere with a Santa hat stuffed with paper slips, grabbing both our arms.
"There you two are! The white elephant exchange is starting." She practically drags us back toward the party room. "And karaoke right after. You both need to pick your songs now or you'll be stuck with 'All I Want for Christmas Is You.'"
"Janet, we're in the middle of—" Hendrix starts.
"No excuses! Principal Chen specifically said everyone has to participate. Pick a number." She holds out the Santa hat. "This is mandatory fun, people!"
I dig into the Santa hat and pull out a paper slip - number twenty-three. Great. I'll be one of the last to pick.
I find a seat on one end of the circle, sandwiched between the school counselor and the librarian.
Hendrix takes a seat on the opposite end, his eyes locked on me for a moment before he looks away.
His large frame looks comical in one of those tiny bistro chairs, his knees practically touching his chest. Whatever he was about to say in the hallway will have to wait.
A woman two seats down from me whispers to Jerry from the art department, who glances at Hendrix, grunts and reluctantly gives her a dollar. I raise an eyebrow, curious, but I have more pressing concerns.
Like Hendrix's sudden mood swing. And what he's going to do when Wade inevitably asks to come back to work early. I push the thoughts aside, trying to focus on the festivities.
"Remember everyone," Janet chirps, adjusting her jingling reindeer antlers. "You can either pick a new gift from the pile or steal one that's already been opened. Each gift can only be stolen three times before it's locked. Number one, you're up!"
Mr. Phillips waves his paper slip enthusiastically from his seat, nearly toppling over. Two other teachers steady him as he hobbles forward to select a square package wrapped in silver paper.
Inside is a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a Christmas goose which gets stolen by Marcy.
The stealing and swapping continues, with much theatrical groaning and laughter. I barely register who has what, too distracted by the weight of Hendrix's stare burning into me from across the circle.
When his number is called - seventeen - he picks a square, thin package wrapped in brown paper. His large hands make quick work of the paper, revealing a wall calendar featuring shirtless firefighters posing with puppies.
"Oh, that's hilarious!" Sarah calls out, bouncing Emma against her shoulder.
Hendrix's lips quirk up, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. He keeps glancing at me between turns, that same hard expression from earlier making my stomach twist.
I fidget in my chair as the numbers tick higher. Twenty-one... twenty-two...
"Twenty-three!" Janet announces. "Colette, your turn!"
Rising on shaky legs, I survey the remaining wrapped packages and the opened gifts clutched possessively in my colleagues' laps. The firefighter calendar catches my eye - not because I want it, but because choosing it would take it off his hands so he can get a better gift.
I march over to where Hendrix sits, his broad shoulders tense as he clutches the firefighter calendar. He won't meet my eyes, staring instead at the floor.
Several teachers lean forward in their seats, watching us with poorly concealed interest.
"I'll take that." I hold out my hand, palm up.
"Really?" His voice has an edge I've never heard before. "What do you want with pictures of shirtless firemen?"
The room goes quiet except for a few whispers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Chen slip a twenty to Janet.
"Maybe I like firefighters," I say, keeping my tone light despite the sudden thickness in my throat.
"Since when?"