6. The Way You Look at Me #3
“Of course, she is the ghost of Christmas past. The biggest part is getting production down.
Thankfully we have the previous year's costumes.” Trevor could see that Aniyah was overwhelmed.
He wanted to ease that worry by pulling her into his arms again, but this was not the time and definitely not the place. Instead, he offered up his services.
“I can help you, you know telling stories is my thing,” Trevor offered.
Aniyah playfully rolled her eyes at this humbleness like he isn’t an award-winning director.
“I have afternoons free,” he said. “My current production pauses after today for the Christmas holiday. If you need lighting, anything technical or just someone to roast these kids with, I’m your guy. ”
Aniyah laughed in response. She would definitely roast these kids with Trevor.
Their eyes locked again as the bell rang signaling the start of the school day.
Aniyah felt the electricity crawl up her spine by being this close to him again.
He wasn’t at an inappropriate distance but she could feel the heat from his body.
“I will take all the help I can get. We start rehearsals this afternoon at 4pm. Zara can stay with me until that time if that works for you?”
“Yes. I can be here by 3:50. Anything you need just let me know.” Trevor stood a beat longer than necessary breathing in Aniyah’s scent and committing it to memory before backing away to head out the school.
“Thank you, I will see you then.” Aniyah promptly turned and went into her classroom, she could not be pulled into Trevor’s orbit again no matter how fine and vulnerable he was.
“Everyone have their morning worksheets?” She asked the class. A chorus of “yes, Ms. Henderson!” filled the room. Time to get the day started.
It was no surprise that Zara was excited to stay with Aniyah once school let out.
She had been bouncing off the walls since Aniyah told her she would be staying behind until Trevor came to rehearsals later that evening.
They were currently resetting the classroom for the next day.
Zara moved with a burst of determination that made Aniyah smile as she watched her line up pencils with careful precision.
“Look, I did it straight,” Zara said, stepping back to admire her work.
“You did,” Aniyah replied, adjusting a stack of books on her desk before glancing over again. “Better than me.”
Zara beamed, shoulders lifting with pride as she moved to the next task without being asked. Aniyah let her, appreciating the way she took to responsibility for completing the task list to straighten up the classroom.
Once the room was set, Aniyah guided them toward the reading corner, where soft pillows had been stacked into something more comfortable than functional.
The late afternoon sun stretched through the windows, warming the small space as she settled onto the rug beside Zara, passing her a bowl of fruit and a cup of ice cream she’d ordered earlier through FoodDash.
“I got strawberry,” Zara said, already digging in.
“I can see that,” Aniyah murmured, opening her own cup, watching the way Zara relaxed into the moment, legs stretched out, the class teddy bear tucked at her side .
Zara glanced around after a few bites, eyes narrowing with curiosity, “Do you live here?”
Aniyah laughed softly, the sound slipping out before she could stop it, “No, baby. I have my own place.”
“Where?”
“Out by the ocean.”
Zara’s face lit up immediately, “I love the ocean. My daddy takes me sometimes.” She paused, spoon hovering midair. “I wish he’d take me more.”
Aniyah smiled, leaning back against the pillows, “You know what? I think that’s a fair request. I’ll help you with that. We’ll make sure he hears it.”
Zara giggled, the sound bright and easy, but it faded just as quickly as it came. Her gaze dropped to her lap, fingers tightening slightly around her spoon.
“The last time we went,” she said, quieter now, “my mommy was there too. But she didn’t wanna be there. She wasn’t as happy as Daddy and I were.”
Aniyah felt the shift immediately, the way the air settled heavier around them. She set her cup aside, turning fully toward Zara.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, baby.”
Zara shrugged, trying to carry it lightly.
Aniyah saw her eyes glisten and that made her want to protect the little girl more than anything, “It’s okay.
Mommy should be happy now. She went to what makes her happy.
” She hesitated, then added, softer, “Daddy says it’s not my fault, but sometimes it feels like it is.
Like… if I didn’t make her mad when I asked her to spend time with me, she’d still be around. ”
Aniyah reached for her without thinking, her hand closing gently around Zara’s smaller one, grounding her before the thought could settle too deep .
“Zara,” she said, her voice steady but warm, waiting until the little girl looked up at her, “listen to me, baby.”
Zara’s eyes met hers, wide and uncertain.
“I had a mommy that didn’t want to be around me either,” Aniyah continued, her thumb brushing lightly over Zara’s knuckles. “You know what I found out?”
Zara shook her head.
“It’s not you, baby. It’s them. Mommy has to heal a boo-boo inside her heart on her own. That’s something only she can do.” Aniyah held her gaze, making sure every word landed where it needed to. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your daddy’s fault either.”
Zara’s fingers loosened in her grasp, her shoulders dropping just a little.
“I know your daddy loves you more than anything,” Aniyah added, a small smile touching her lips. “I know you’re a rock star. Doesn’t he call you his Superstar?”
Zara’s expression shifted, a hint of her earlier brightness returning, “Yes, he does!”
“I believe that too,” Aniyah said softly. “Fully.”
Zara nodded, settling into that reassurance, and after a moment, her attention drifted, landing on Aniyah’s hands resting between them.
“Miss Aniyah,” she said, tilting her head slightly, “Your nails are really pretty.”
Aniyah glanced down at her French manicure, the subtle design on her ring finger catching the light. “They are?”
“Yes!”
Aniyah smiled, something lighter weaving back into the moment, “Well, thank you. You know what? I could take you to get a manicure one day. Would you like that?”
Zara’s eyes widened instantly, “Yes, I would.”
Aniyah laughed softly, “We’d have to ask your dad first.”
Zara nodded quickly, “We do have to ask Daddy.”
“Of course we do,” Aniyah said, her tone warm as she reached for her ice cream again. “But if he says yes, we’ll make a whole day out of it.”
Zara grinned, already imagining it, and the space between them settled into something easy again. Aniyah was glad she could bring happiness to the little girl who seemed to be carrying the wait of the world on her shoulders because of Katelyn’s choices.
For the rest of the time they were together, Zara and Aniyah read, told funny stories and even napped. She was sure Trevor knew it, but he had an Angel for a little girl.
The first full rehearsal for A Christmas Story felt like controlled chaos wrapped in tinsel.
PTA parents lined the back of the gym with coffee cups and folded programs, offering suggestions in low voices while pretending they were not offering suggestions.
Children zigzagged across the stage with oversized scripts, their excitement louder than the squeak of folding chairs scraping the floor.
Someone tested the sound system twice. Someone else asked where the leg lamp prop had gone.
Aniyah moved through it all with quiet authority, clipboard in hand, issuing direction with the kind of calm that disguised the storm under it. She had agreed to something bigger than her comfort, and she would see it through.
Trevor kept himself just off her shoulder, attentive without crowding her. He adjusted light angles and rewired a loose extension cord without being asked. He deferred to her decisions in front of the parents, letting it be clear that this was her production. Her mind kept drifting to earlier.
He had woken them up from their nap when he came back to the school from work. Aniyah let him know the time spent with Zara was wonderful and she’d be happy to do it again any time he needed.
The look that crossed his face was grateful and lascivious. Desire struck like hot coal in her center. This was not what she wanted. So, she kept her distance.
It should have been simple collaboration. It was not simple.
Every time he crossed the gym floor toward her, something in her awareness shifted before she could control it. She felt him before she saw him. She had told herself this would remain professional. She had meant it.
Halfway through blocking the opening scene, a PTA mother approached Aniyah with mild urgency.
“The old Marley chains are still in the back closet,” the woman said. “They are on the top rack. I tried to get them but I couldn’t reach them. You’re a few inches taller than me, could you get them?”
Aniyah nodded. “I’ll grab them.”
Trevor’s head lifted at once. “I’ll come with you,” he said. The decision had already been made before Aniyah could object.
She could have declined. She should have declined.
Instead, she simply said, “All right,” and walked toward the side storage closet near the stage.
The door closed behind them with a soft click that sounded louder than it should have.
The closet was narrow and warmer than the gym, the air carrying the scent of fabric and cardboard and years of forgotten productions.
One dim bulb cast everything in a muted amber glow.
Racks of costumes crowded the walls. Plastic crowns hung beside velvet cloaks.
A pair of angel wings leaned crooked against a box labeled 2019.
Aniyah stepped toward the back rack and looked up. The chains were coiled high on the top bar, just beyond reach.
She rose onto her toes, fingers stretching toward the metal.