23. Colette
COLETTE
I pace backstage, watching my students fidget with their costumes and scripts. The nervous energy is palpable, like static electricity before a storm.
"I can't remember my lines." Lily's face pales. She's playing Mary, and I picked her specifically because she has such natural grace. Right now though, she looks ready to bolt. "What if I mess up in front of everyone?"
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Peter mumbles, but I think he might be faking it.
I gather them in a circle, their young faces turned up to mine. "You know what? Before my first teaching job interview, I was so nervous I put my sweater on backwards and didn't notice until I got home."
A few snickers ripple through the group.
"But you know what else? Nobody remembers the tiny mistakes. They remember the feeling, the magic of the moment." I squeeze Lily's shoulder. "And you all have worked so hard. You know these lines better than you think."
"But what if we forget?" Tommy's voice cracks.
I pull out my emergency candy cane stash. "Then you improvise. The audience doesn't know your exact lines. Just speak from your heart about what this story means to you."
Sarah raises her hand. "Ms. McAllister? Can we do our good luck ritual?"
"Of course." I lead them in our silly pre-show hand stack and cheer, something we came up with during rehearsals. Their energy shifts, shoulders straightening, smiles emerging.
"Alright everyone, costume time!" I clap my hands. "And remember - you're all stars tonight."
They scatter to their designated areas, chattering with renewed confidence.
Two parents graciously volunteered to help get the students get dressed, buy when I rush to the costume closet, ready to deal with the usual chaos of missing buttons and torn seams, I freeze. These aren't our old costumes.
I touch the fabric of what should be Mary's faded blue robe. Instead, my fingers slide over rich silk in deep sapphire, with delicate silver embroidery along the edges. The shepherds' robes are made of authentic wool, not the scratchy polyester we usually use.
"Where did these come from?"
Mrs. Lee appears behind me. "Oh, didn't anyone tell you? These arrived yesterday."
"But how-" I lift a crown that catches the light like real gold. "These must cost a fortune."
"Apparently that movie company filming at the Ellis house made them." She picks up one of the angel wings, crafted with individual feathers that look almost real. "Their costume designer did all this. Something about Hendrix negotiating it as part of their contract to film there again."
My throat tightens. "Hendrix did this?"
"From what I heard, he wouldn't let them use the house for their next Christmas movie unless they agreed to make costumes for your pageant first." Mrs. Lee hands me a shepherd's staff that's been aged to look authentically weathered. "He was quite insistent about it."
I run my hand over the intricate beadwork on the wise men's robes, the carefully crafted angel wings that shimmer under the lights. These must have cost thousands.
"The kids are going to look amazing," Mrs. Lee sighs happily. "Like real movie stars!"
I should be thrilled. These costumes are beyond anything I could have dreamed of for the pageant. But all I can think about is Hendrix. After everything that happened at the faculty party, after I humiliated both of us with that ridiculous karaoke confrontation... he still did this?
A half-hour to curtain and I'm darting between the wings of the stage, dodging teenagers who should be getting into costume but are instead taking selfies and practicing TikTok dances. Two of my stagehands are having a sword fight with shepherd's crooks while another films them.
"Dylan! Marcus! Those are props, not lightsabers!"
They scatter, but I can hear their laughter echoing down the hallway. At least they're having fun.
"Thirty minutes until places!" I call out, trying to maintain order.
That's when I hear the crash.
Racing to the source of the noise, I find our backdrop - a painted scene of Bethlehem that's seen better days - has finally given up the ghost. The ancient support beam snapped clean through, leaving our setting in a heap on the floor.
"It's fine," I say, more to convince myself than anyone else. "We'll just... we'll make it work. Brenden, grab that blue curtain. We can hang it as a night sky-"
The stage door bursts open, and suddenly the backstage is flooded with people in work boots and black jackets with the words “Yuletide Studios” printed across the back.
They're rolling in enormous set pieces - a stunning backdrop of Bethlehem with twinkling stars, realistic stone buildings, and palm trees that look like they could have been plucked straight from the Holy Land.
"Sorry we're late!" A man with a headset and clipboard jogs up to me. "Traffic was terrible, and the director insisted we get this perfect shot of the snowfall scene before we wrapped."
Before I can process what's happening, they're efficiently assembling a set that looks weathered and authentic, complete with real straw. Two crew members wheel in beautifully painted wooden animals that look like they belong in a Broadway production.
I stare as they efficiently assemble what looks like a Hollywood-quality set. "I don't understand..."
"We’re from Yuletide Studios. We’re currently working on A Cookie Cutter Christmas down at the Ellis house," he explains, checking something on his iPad. “Are you Colette McCallister?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Mr. Ellis was very specific about making sure everything was perfect for your show. Sign here to confirm delivery."
I give him my signature in a daze. First the costumes and now this? My students gather around, wide-eyed at the transformation happening before them. How long has Hendrix been organizing this?
Mrs. Lee taps my shoulder. "Sorry to bother you. But there’s a Santa suit I can’t find an actor for. Is that for something else?"
My stomach drops. With everything that happened at the faculty party - the karaoke disaster, finding out about Hendrix's bet - I completely forgot to find a replacement Santa.
"Oh no." I press my palm to my forehead. "No, no, no."
Mrs. Lee looks at me concerned and I place a hand on her arm so she knows I’m not a complete scatterbrain. “I’ll take care of that. Thanks for reminding me.”
I peek through the curtains for anyone who could fit the costume–even with stuffing in the belly area. Then I spot Principal Chen by the sound booth, tapping his microphone. "Testing, one two..."
I dash over to him, nearly tripping on an extension cord. "Mr. Chen! Thank goodness you're here."
"Just making sure everything's ready for my introduction." He adjusts his tie.
"Actually..." I clasp my hands together. "We have a tiny emergency. We need someone to play Santa."
His eyes widen. "Oh no. Absolutely not."
"Please? It's just one scene at the end. You kneel at the manger, say two lines about honoring the Christ child, and that's it."
"Ms. McAllister, I don't do costumes."
I lean in closer. "Remember how you said you'd make it up to me after giving the pageant budget to the hockey team?"
He winces. "That's not fair."
"Neither was taking my budget." I give him my best pleading look. "The kids have worked so hard. We can't disappoint them now."
Principal Chen sighs heavily. "Fine. But if anyone takes pictures..."
"Thank you!" I grab his arm before he can change his mind. "The costume's this way. And don't worry—the beard will hide most of your face."
He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "the things I do for this school" as he heads to the changing area.
I call places, my heart swelling as my students take their positions. The music begins - a soft, ethereal rendition of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" - and I hold my breath.
Lily glides onto the stage as Mary, her movements graceful in the beautiful new sapphire costume. Gone is the nervous girl from twenty minutes ago. In her place stands a young woman radiating quiet strength and wonder.
Even Dylan and Marcus, who spent most of rehearsals poking each other with shepherd's crooks, transform the moment the spotlight hits them. Dylan delivers his lines about the angel's appearance with such genuine awe that I feel tears pricking at my eyes.
"Do not be afraid," Addison announces, her wings catching the light as she spreads her arms. Her voice rings clear and true across the auditorum. "For behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy!"
The group of shepherds—led by Brenden, who was convinced he'd forget everything - moves as one, their faces upturned in perfect wonderment. When they begin their journey to Bethlehem, the audience leans forward in their seats.
I dab at my eyes as Peter, who just an hour ago was claiming stage fright, strides confidently across the stage as one of the wise men. His voice doesn't waver as he presents his gift, explaining its significance with the perfect mix of reverence and dignity.
The manger scene brings fresh tears to my eyes.
The way they arrange themselves around the cradle, the tender expressions on their faces—it's everything I dreamed this pageant could be.
These aren't just teenagers playing parts anymore.
They've become storytellers, sharing this timeless message of hope and love with their whole hearts.
I press my hand to my chest, overwhelmed with pride as they move through each scene flawlessly.
Even the little ones playing sheep and donkeys stay perfectly in character, creating that magical atmosphere I always hoped for but never quite achieved in previous years.
I only wish Hendrix were here to see it.