Chapter 8
‘TIS THE SEASON FOR SECRETS
NATALIE
Thanksgiving was over and school resumed in December.
The days were filled with holiday festivities—visiting Santa, admiring Christmas lights, and preparing for the school concert.
Despite the seasonal cheer, I found myself preoccupied.
I hadn’t seen Will much on campus lately.
Sometimes it was Kelly who picked up their kids, other times his sister Sarah, and occasionally an older woman who I assumed was their grandmother.
I wondered if he would be at the concert.
The holiday concert was a big deal at Saint Isidore’s.
The school gym was transformed into a winter wonderland with twinkling lights and poinsettias lining the stage.
This year it was scheduled for a Thursday evening at six.
I made sure to let Jason and his secretary know the details.
He was coming from Chicago and was supposed to land at John Wayne Airport around two-thirty, leaving him plenty of time to make it.
At one p.m., he texted me to say the weather looked bad and his flight was delayed. I was irritated but figured he still had time. An hour later, he told me there was still no sign of his plane taking off. By four-thirty, I was beyond annoyed and didn’t even want to hear his excuses.
Jason: I’m so sorry. The weather here is crazy. You know how winter storms can be. It doesn’t look like I’m getting out of here anytime soon.
I didn’t even respond.
Instead, I focused my energy on getting Bebe and James ready. I curled Bebe’s long sandy hair and placed a perfect little bow on the side of her head. She looked darling. She asked me to wear some makeup, and I agreed a little blush and lip gloss would be suitable, it was a special occasion.
James on the other hand, was a whirlwind.
I waited until the last minute to put his clothes on so they wouldn’t get wrinkled.
Then I gelled his hair to the side, marveling at how much he looked like Jason.
He had my nose, though, with a smattering of freckles.
I snapped a few photos of the kids before we headed out, determined to make the best of the evening without Jason.
Camille and her family were driving by and pulled into my driveway just as we were about to leave.
Her husband, Tate, offered to drop all of us off at the door, so I wouldn’t have to wander around looking for parking on my own.
“Hop in!” she called, waving from the passenger seat.
I wasn’t about to decline.
Traffic into the school lot was as chaotic as I’d expected.
It seemed like every family at Saint Isidore’s was there.
Jason sent another text around six, confirming his flight wouldn’t leave until the following morning.
I ignored it. He knew I was upset; I was annoyed not just at his absence but at the predictability of it all.
Inside, Camille offered to take James with her twins to their classroom. I kissed James on the forehead and thanked her, then I walked Bebe to her room.
Will stood near the doorway, hugging Ivy. He looked good. Too good. Disarmingly handsome in a sweater that fit just right. My heart skipped.
Bebe ran over to Ivy, and the two girls began complimenting each other’s outfits. A group of other girls joined them, squealing over shoes, jewelry, and makeup. Their excitement lit up the room. I laughed softly, catching Will’s eye.
“Your shoes look great, too,” he said with a grin.
I laughed lightly, probably blushing.
“Can I walk you to the gym?” he asked.
“Sure, why not,” I said, trying to sound casual.
As we walked, we made small talk about the kids’ excitement over the concert.
“Bebe’s been practicing in front of the mirror every night, complete with the most dramatic poses,” I chattered.
“You should see Ivy. She was giving full performances in the car, much to her brothers’ dismay. Chase and Carter are not thrilled about being here tonight,” he added.
“Middle school boys and Christmas concerts don’t mix.”
When we reached the crowded hallway outside the gym, he stopped. “You look really nice tonight,” he said.
His tone was so quiet and sincere that for a moment, it was as if no one else existed.
Before I could say anything, someone called his name. A man walked over, shook Will’s hand and launched into a conversation. I slipped away, heading toward Camille, who somehow saved seats for us in the front row. She patted the empty chair next to her, and I sat down, grateful.
Will walked into the gym. He glanced down at me as he passed, heading into a row further back. His expression was soft and warm. Where was he sitting, I wondered, barely restraining myself from turning to follow where he walked.
The lights dimmed, the performance began. Most of the kids sang their hearts out; some looked bored, and others didn’t know any of the words.
After a few songs, I started, as unobtrusively as possible, to scan the room. I knew I couldn’t look behind me to see if Will was there. That would be too obvious. But I did glance side to side.
My phone buzzed inside my purse. As discreetly as I could, I opened the message and was surprised to see it was from Will.
Will: You have a pretty good view of that nose picker.
Camille glanced at me as I glanced at my phone. “Jason,” I lied, by way of explanation.
Natalie: His parents must be so proud
Will: I guess it beats the kid in the top row looking backward.
I stifled a laugh. Camille looked at me again, curious. I didn’t respond to Will this time.
After the show, parents were instructed to retrieve their children from their classrooms. Camille said she would grab the boys; I headed to get Bebe. When I arrived at her classroom, Will was right behind me.
“You girls did amazing,” I said.
“The best singers out there,” Will chimed in, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. He handed half to Ivy and the other half to Bebe, who gasped with delight.
“Thank you!” she said, her cheeks pink with excitement.
The girls skipped out of the classroom ahead of us, chattering about their performance.
“How did you score front-row seats for the concert?” Will smiled.
“I have connections,” I teased.
“Lucky you,” he said in a tone that was both lighthearted and warm.
I wanted to flirt with him, to say something clever that would make him laugh, but I knew I was already playing with fire. I kept it casual even though my heart raced.
By the time we reached the lobby, the moment we shared, whatever it was, dissolved into the disarray of parents and children. We said our goodbyes and Bebe and I headed over to meet Camille and the boys.
Camille caught up with me before we reached Tate’s car. “How do you know Will Parker?” she asked curiously.
I replied as casually as I could. “Bebe is friends with his daughter.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Je Vois” was all she said, but I felt my cheeks heat as if whatever she saw was too much.
Back home, I got the kids changed and into bed. They fell asleep immediately, worn out from the evening. Jason texted again, asking if I could send videos and photos of the concert. I sighed, deciding it was the least I could do. After I sent them, he called.
“Hi,” he said, his voice apologetic. “I’m so sorry this happened. I feel awful.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “I had it handled. We’ll see you tomorrow.” I was short with him, but it felt nice to hear him sounding guilty for once.
After we hung up, I stared at my phone, tempted to text Will. Instead, I turned on The Real Housewives of New Jersey and let their drama distract me from creating any of my own.