Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
Julian
Julian bolted out of bed to the sound of a car alarm, his heart hammering in his chest. He padded across his room and peeled back the curtains, staring down at the street where the neighbor was cursing, trying to unstick his windshield wipers while silencing the alarm.
Clearly the temperatures had dropped enough last night to create a nice layer of ice under all the snow.
Even now, more snow fell, which felt fitting.
He’d always been a fan of a white Christmas—or Christmas Eve.
His thoughts drifted to Charlie, wondering if the Lincoln Center rehearsals were turning out to be everything she’d dreamed.
Julian knew he’d been hard on her that morning in the kitchen and that he’d said all the wrong things before storming out.
He’d been so desperate for her to stay that he’d tried to tell her how to live her life, and he’d been wrong.
He should have been more supportive when she told him about the offer.
Instead, he’d hurt her. Charlie didn’t need anymore of that in her life.
He’d been online last night trying to buy tickets for her New Year’s performance, but according to the Lincoln Center website, everything was sold out.
Perhaps that was for the best, though. After everything, a clean break was probably what she wanted and what he needed. The best thing to do was move on.
He picked up his phone, finding Diane’s number. Merry Christmas Eve.
Do you have good news for me?
He laughed. Of course she was right down to business.
I’ll take the job on one condition.
Diane sent back a question mark.
I want to have a say in who gets hired as the new activities director.
If by some miracle they managed to win this competition today and take home twenty thousand dollars, he wanted to make sure whoever took over his role was prepared to keep the choir going.
Deal. Consider it your Christmas gift. Now break legs and all that.
I think it’s just one leg.
Julian grinned, stuffed his phone away and hurried through his usual morning routine—a shower, breakfast and then he was out the door with a thermos of coffee.
Much like his neighbor, he trudged through the snow to clear off his car, grumbling as his fingers froze around the snowbrush.
The second the windows were clear, he hopped in the car and made his way to Glendale.
He glanced at the sky, a mess of gray clouds, and hoped the weather cooperated long enough to get the residents to the competition.
A flutter of nerves surged through him as he pulled into the parking lot. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He wasn’t the one singing in front of half the town today.
Julian parked and headed inside.
Maggie pounced on him before he’d even cleared the lobby. “Good morning. You look refreshed.”
Julian snorted. “I’m cold and was woken up by a car alarm.”
“Okay, well, I’ll just start with the first problem of the day.”
“First?” Julian checked his phone. It was barely nine. This didn’t bode well. “How many do you expect there to be?”
“At least three. That’s how these things happen. In threes.”
That was not what he wanted to hear. “Right. Hit me.”
“The body glitter and antler headbands have arrived,” she said. “Just in time, mind you.”
“Body glitter?” His eyes widened.
“For our cheeks,” Maggie confirmed. “You know, to give us that youthful, elf-like glow. Don’t worry. We’re not going to glitter up anything inappropriate.”
Julian slurped his coffee. That was a relief. The antler headbands on the other hand had been his idea. He thought they’d add a nice touch to the “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” segment. “I’m not really hearing a problem.”
“It’s in regard to our matching T-shirts. I just realized that we forgot to include Frank in the count. He wasn’t here the day we sorted the numbers.”
“That’s fine,” Julian said. “He can wear mine.”
“You’re not going to be onstage with us?”
“You’ve got Doris leading on piano,” Julian said. “I can’t direct you anyway. Not like Charlie could. I’ll just stick out like a sore thumb. But I will be waiting in the wings, cheering you on.”
“I suppose that works,” Maggie said. “Problem solved.”
“Great.” Julian stopped at the stairwell. “I’m going to swing up to my office and make sure the bus is sorted.” He paused. “Should we gather the choir up in the music room? Get one last rehearsal in?”
“Oh, Doris is already on that,” Maggie assured him. “Everyone’s just finishing up their breakfast, then heading down.”
“Perfect,” Julian said. “I’ll meet you there in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, remember when I told you these things happen in threes?” Maggie said, her lips flattening into a thin line.
Julian crouched down next to the bus where Walt was examining the rear tire.
“I just don’t see how we’ll get it changed in time,” Walt said.
Doris stood next to Maggie, shivering. “What rotten luck. Of all the days to get a flat.”
“It’s these plows,” Walt complained. “Pushing the snow, dragging all sorts of junk with them. I didn’t see anything in the slush, but I felt the tire go.”
“What now?” Maggie said, checking her watch. “If we don’t get the choir to the community center soon—”
“I know,” Julian cut in.
“We won’t make our time slot.”
“I know.”
“And we won’t get to perform!”
“I know!” Julian rubbed at his face. She sounded utterly heartbroken.
This was all his fault. He’d gotten their hopes up, he’d encouraged their excitement, he’d somehow even managed to chase Charlie out, leaving the residents high and dry.
Maybe he’d put too much pressure on everyone to win a competition that probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s not panic,” Doris said, derailing his sour thoughts. “What are our options?”
“The bus is a bust,” Walt said.
“Yes, thank you, Walter,” Doris said. “I am aware that we will not be taking the bus.”
Julian stood. Doris was right. He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself or to sulk about freak accidents. He had to get the choir to the community center.
“We could drive ourselves,” Maggie suggested.
“The lack of licenses might be a problem,” Doris said.
“No, I meant…” Maggie gestured toward Julian.
“I can only fit four people in my car,” he said. “I’d need to make like five trips to the community center. With all the back and forth, we’d never make it in time.”
“Too bad you don’t know a bunch of dedicated Glendale employees who might also be willing to lend you a hand,” Maggie said, failing to hide her grin.
God, she was right! Why was he being so obtuse? Julian whipped out his phone, texting Warren: SOS.
What’s up?
I know it’s Christmas Eve day and you’re off with your family but any chance you could swing by Glendale for an hour? Bus has a flat and I need to get the choir to the community center ASAP.
A devil emoji. You will owe me big time.
Whatever you want.
A gingerbread house rematch.
Done, Julian typed, laughing. He’d buy out all the gingerbread kits leftover at the supermarket if he had to.
On my way, Warren replied.
Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.
Warren sent through an emoji of a masked superhero. Nurse by day. Chauffeur by day off.
“Okay,” Julian said to Maggie and Doris. “I’m working on alternate transportation. So far I’ve secured Warren. Let’s get everyone gathered up in the lobby so we don’t freeze while we’re waiting.”
Maggie took charge of that, ushering the rest of the choir back into the building.
Julian did some mental math. With Warren’s van and some muscle, there’d be just enough room to accommodate Frank’s wheelchair.
“Any chance you’d like to give some old folks a ride?” Doris asked Erin as Julian entered the lobby. “Our choir dreams have been bested by a flat tire.”
“This is an emergency!” Harriet said, practically throwing herself over the lobby desk, picking up the phone as it rang and slamming it back down. “All hands on deck.”
“Oh my gosh!” Erin said. “Of course. I’d be happy to. Let me grab my keys.”
“That’s another one secured,” Doris said, turning to him.
“If Erin and I both make two runs, and Warren can accommodate Frank—”
“We’ll just make it,” Doris said.
Julian nodded. “You should come with me now in the first group. You can get us signed in while I run back for the second.”
Doris bundled herself back into her coat.
“Maggie,” Julian called, darting across the lobby. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. If Warren gets here before I get back, explain the situation. Ask him to wait. He’ll need my help getting Frank loaded into his van.”
“Got it,” Maggie said, stress painting extra glitter onto already glittery cheeks.
He turned back to Doris. “Okay, let’s go.”
They collected a few choir members, and all piled into his car.
“Not exactly how I saw the day going,” Julian said as they drove through town, “but it could be worse.”
“It could be a blizzard,” Doris agreed. “Or we could have had a bout of laryngitis whip through the choir. Those would have been problems. This was a little hiccup.”
“Well, according to Maggie, I’ve got at least one more hiccup coming.”
Doris squeezed his arm. “I think we can handle it.”
When they reached the community center, Julian let the group out. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Someone keep a lookout for Erin. She’ll be bringing the next group. Doris—”
“I’ll get us sorted. Drive carefully.”
Julian did, only speeding a little as he made his way back to Glendale. When he arrived, Warren’s van was parked in front of the building.
“You are actually the best,” Julian said, hopping out of his car.
“It’s my good deed for Christmas. Gotta make sure Santa still comes.” Warren rolled the door of the van open. “Okay, what’s the plan?”
“I think we get Frank situated in your passenger seat? The wheelchair should fold down and fit in your trunk. Then between the two of us, we should be able to take the rest of the residents.”
“Sounds good.”