by Tif Marcelo
KC cuts in line behind me to no one’s objection and fills up a cup for himself. I barely finish stirring in a pound of creamer before he pulls me by the sleeve to the first row of chairs, set up in front of the cash registers. It’s reliably free among the fifty chairs to accommodate the employees of the Bookworm Inn, because no one wants to be up close and personal during a staff meeting.
I plop onto the seat, the chill of the plastic chair doing nothing for my exhaustion. It’s been a long week, starting with waking up late on Monday morning after writing and editing my blog post, which snowballed into the drudgery of reviewing for finals and work.
At the thought of my last blog post, my insides tingle. It garnered the most comments I ever had; readers were stoked to congratulate me in advance for the blog’s anniversary, and wrote that they were excited for the upcoming surprise. Many also weighed in on the post’s final question about choices. A clear majority wrote that they would have chosen magic versus the safe choice.
Me? If pressed, I might have sided with taking risk, but internally, I’m still undecided. Risk is real. It’s scary, uncomfortable, and has consequences.
“Anyway, I’m not late. The range of arrival is between oh-seven hundred to seven-ten, and it is seven-ten.” With a free hand, KC brushes back his hair, the tips glistening with melted snow. “To be honest, I had to go forty through downtown. My car had a hard time cranking up this morning and I thought I was going to be late. I’m just glad I didn’t get pulled over.”
The speed limit through Main is twenty miles an hour. I raise my eyebrows. “KC.”
“I know, I know. I feel guilty thinking about it.” He sighs.
“You’re lucky Chief Dasher or any of his reindeer didn’t get you.”
“For real.” He snorts. “Reindeer. That’s cruel.”
“I can’t help it.” Chief Dasher is, in fact, the chief of police’s name, but the coincidence is hard to ignore. “This is Holly, after all.”
“Then why do you look like you’re an extra on The Walking Dead?”
“Gee, thanks. Always keeping it real.”
“You know what I’m saying.”
I shiver, and as if reading my mind, the shop’s furnace clicks on. The temperature dropped a good ten degrees since yesterday, a true sign that winter is here. “Studying for finals. Three babysitting shifts, with parents sneaking out to buy Christmas presents. And it’s sugar rush season for the kids.” I shake my head to free myself of the memory of last night’s gig. “Do you know that Magic Eraser actually erases crayons off walls? Takes a lot of elbow grease and a couple layers of paint, but still. It works.”
“Blergh.” He sips his coffee. “So update me. What’s up with your full-time hours? I didn’t get mine. Something about a new employee.”
“I didn’t get mine either, and yes. It’s her nephew.” I catch KC up on Ms. Velasco’s offer to train Teddy.
“Is he even here?”
I glance around. “Doesn’t look like it. He’s supposed to start this weekend, though. And I’m supposed to give Ms. Velasco my answer today.” I tip the cup to my lips, and the smell of java hits my nose, waking me up. Undoubtedly, the scent is the best part of coffee, because I’m not a fan of anything bitter.
“What are you going to say?”
I shrug. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
The chatter quiets as Teddy walks through the door. He’s bundled up, but he looks like someone who didn’t get any sleep either.
KC glances back. “That him?”
“Yep.”
“I mean, he is the owner’s nephew. Should you say no to training him?”
I press my lips together so as not to let my less-than-complimentary opinions gush out, but KC’s words settle into me. Teddy and I had one shift together, and looking back, the night was busy and chaotic. Did I give him enough of a chance? Maybe I was making a choice based on a flawed impression.
“Well, he’s cute.” KC shrugs out of his coat. “He’s got that tired, cuddly look about him.”
“He’s all yours.”
“Nope.” KC grins. “I’m taken.”
KC is on cloud nine with his long-distance boyfriend, Seb, who is away for his first year of college. They’re probably the sweetest couple I know. “Anyway, it isn’t me who needs to have some fun,” he says.
“What is it with you and Carm trying to add to my schedule? Last night, she sent me a shared calendar of our activities during break.” I show him my lock screen, riddled with calendar invites, and tell him about Mission: Holly. A blog notification pops up and I flip the screen down quickly.
“Oh, wow,” KC remarks, eyebrows lifting. “That’s serious business.”
Carm, KC, and I are in the same bubble of friends at our high school, but we don’t usually all hang out together. An idea lights up like Rudolph’s nose. When KC’s attention drifts, I send Carm a text.
Lila: Hey, can we add to our Mission: Holly crew? Can I invite KC?
Carm: Yeah!
If that gets you to actually go
Lila: YAY
Carm: Should I invite Aiden, too?
Aiden O’Conner is another senior at our high school, and Carm’s longtime crush.
Lila: But of course
I tug KC’s sweater and show him my phone screen. “Hey, do you know what I think?”
He bends down and reads. “Really? Are you sure I won’t be crashing?”
“No way. The more the merrier, right?”
“Okay. I’m in.”
Just then, Ms. Velasco strides in and makes her way to the front of the room. She looks fresh-faced and awake; in fact, she’s buzzing with energy this morning.
KC and I raise our eyebrows at the same time.
“Something’s up,” he whispers.
“Agreed,” I say, remembering Ms. Velasco’s excitement the other night.
She pulls a stool from behind the register and perches upon it. The room quiets, and her red lips part into a smile. “It looks like everyone’s here. Thank you for coming this morning. Today’s staff meeting won’t run like usual—as a matter of fact, we have a lot of planning to do.” She pauses, her eyes brightening. “Because Jonah Johanson and Remy Castillo are coming here. Right here, to the Bookworm Inn!”
It takes a beat to piece the puzzle together. To cobble the images of Jonah Johanson and Remy Castillo as Leo and Estelle, kissing next to the soaring trees, with Max’s paws on Jonah’s calves, as if trying to catch his attention.
Then my jaw drops.
The room explodes with conversation and clapping. The names of the two lead actors in the Holiday by the Lake film scatter in the air like glitter. I press my hands against my mouth and turn to KC, who is on his feet.
“Okay, okay, settle down, everyone.” Ms. Velasco gestures for everyone to sit, though she’s now standing, hands on her hips. “I know. It’s pretty amazing. I didn’t want to give everyone false hope before it was confirmed, but since this year is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the film’s release, I thought why not try to get to the actors themselves? This is the culmination of months of work. Our team hassled and hustled. And now I’m so proud to present New Year’s Eve by the Lake.”
The lights dim to the dull roar of surprise. The inn supervisors move in coordination: one turns on the gift shop televisions, another flips up a laptop. The film’s theme song pipes through the surround-sound speakers.
The room erupts in applause once more. My skin prickles with goose bumps.
Never have I looked forward to a PowerPoint presentation more.
Instinctively, I turn to gauge other people’s reactions, to see if they’re feeling the surge of emotions, too, when I meet Teddy’s intense gaze. It’s searing, and not full of the rest of th
e employees’ joy and surprise.
Ms. Velasco’s voice draws my attention to the front, though I can’t get Teddy’s expression out of my mind. For someone who’s part of the family, he should be thrilled for this great news.
“New Year’s Eve is a mere thirteen days away,” she says. “Thirteen. But it was either New Year’s Eve or never—these actors are busy and booked well out in advance, and it was by pure luck that one of my contacts pulled through. To be honest, I’m not worried about marketing or advertising. With our reach, this place will be packed. But here’s the deal—we need to be ready for it.” She clicks through to the slideshow, which covers everything, from schedules to work expectations, to inventory, decor, the general schedule of events, and ticket sales. There’s a slide explaining the lottery for employees who want to work the event, and twice as much staff will be scheduled the day of.
Ms. Velasco pauses to sip water from a bottle. “There’s a lot to be done from now until then. Everything is wonderful, don’t get me wrong. You all do a magnificent job each and every day. But with some media descending on us when the actors arrive, as well as a bigger crowd than we usually expect in December, we have to discuss the inevitable: preparation and exposure.” She lifts a piece of paper. “A cheat sheet. On the Inn’s mission and history, et cetera, just in case people ask. Some of you already have this memorized. Others, on the other hand…”
Snickering filters through the crowd. KC pretend-covers his face, and I laugh.
“Everyone chosen to work the event must also read the book or watch the film before New Year’s. We want you up to speed around the mega-fans as well as the actors.”
It dawns on me then. Oh my God, Oscar nominees will be walking through our front doors in just thirteen days.
I don’t take a cheat sheet and pass the stack to the row behind me. “Remy Castillo,” I whisper to KC. “I can’t believe it. Do you know that she’s Filipino American?”
KC laughs. “Yes, Lila. You’ve only told me about a hundred times.”
“Well this is a hundred and one. And did you know that—”
“That the author insisted that Remy was cast because she was also Fil-Am.” He laughs. “You’re liable to pass out when you meet Remy.”
“I’m going to be a mess.”
And, just like that, my exhaustion is nowhere to be found.
* * *
After the staff meeting, Ms. Velasco surprises all of us with treats from Jolly Cupcakes, Holly’s specialty cupcake shop. When the tray is passed to me, the peppermint red velvet is still up for grabs. It’s to die for; it tastes like the holidays, like snow and candy canes and a roaring fire, all in one. As the flavors blend on my tongue, I imagine what it will be like to meet Remy Castillo.
The front double doors will fly open, snow swirling in her wake, her dark hair blowing backward. Her face will be flawless, and though she’s as old as my mother—literally two months and three days older—Remy’s going to be wearing those iconic high-heeled boots from the film she shot a year after Holiday by the Lake called The Fire Among Us, where she played a Latina dancer.
“Earth to Lila.” A hand waves in front of my eyes. I blink, and KC comes into view.
“Sorry, what?”
He nods toward the side of the room before peeling off the bottom of his mocha strawberry cupcake. “Ms. Velasco’s been sneaking glances your way.”
“She is?” I look beyond the crowd milling in the library area. Teddy’s standing next to her. Ms. Velasco waves me over. “Yep, she is.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say about the training?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve got about fifteen steps before you figure it out.”
I heave a breath and head over. Weaving my way through my coworkers, my heart speeds up. Work more hours and deal with Teddy? Or try to pick up some odd jobs elsewhere for less money and keep some of my dignity?
As I approach the group, Teddy meets my eyes. For a beat, I’m caught up in his stare and the way he seems to be taking me in.
My temperature spikes, and whether he’s checking me out or sizing me up, my first inclination is to look away. But my firstborn persona arises from my bashfulness. I don’t shy away from a dare.
When I make my way to the group, there’s only one open place to stand, and that’s next to Teddy.
No big deal, right? And yet, it feels like it is.
While everyone is chatting among themselves, the silence between me and Teddy builds. I should really make conversation. Teddy is new, and our crew is small but tight. He wasn’t the one who insisted he take my hours; it was Ms. Velasco’s decision.
“Neat, huh? Celebrities…here,” I lob at Teddy. He has one hand in his pocket, while the other holds the rolled-up cheat sheet. His posture is a weird mix of nonchalance and tension. On his dark pants are traces of white powder, like he ran his fingers against the fabric.
What is all that?
“Neat,” he says.
His smile is polite, but he’s clearly unenthused. Then again, we didn’t leave things on a good note the last time we worked together. So I let his attitude roll right off me, even if he is impossible to ignore. Because as KC noted, Teddy is cute, and there’s a hint of cologne—or maybe it’s just him—that has made my nose perk up.
I cram a piece of cupcake into my mouth.
Maybe no should be my answer.
But when Ms. Velasco sets her attention on us with her beaming smile, I remember that Jonah Johanson and Remy Castillo are coming.
I want to be a part of these big plans for the Inn. I want the money.
“Lila, have you thought about it?” she asks.
“Yes, I have.” I turn to Teddy once more. “I’ll be glad to help.”
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 19
“You want me to go through this list?” Teddy lifts the laminated sheet, tucked into a clipboard, to his face. “Turn on lights. Turn on register. Unlock door. Check the thermostat.” His eyes shift upward to me and then back down. “And you want me to physically mark the boxes next to it. Won’t I be able to tell if the door’s locked when the customers can’t get in?”
A headache creeps into my skull, and his name is Teddy Rivera. I touch my temple, noting the time above the front door. Only ten minutes are left before we open, and the parking lot is already half filled with vehicles. Sunday is our busiest day, when most tour buses schedule their stop.
“Those lists are for everyone to use, written up by Ms. Velasco. So it’s not just for you. Mark the list when you get through with the tasks, please.” I hold up the dry-erase marker.
And finally, after a protracted moment, Teddy takes the marker and checks the box with a sigh.
It’s going to be a long day. Admittedly, because Teddy was here before I arrived, and dressed properly in his uniform, I thought that better workdays were ahead. Nope—our last workday was actually just a preview, because Teddy cannot be taught a single thing.
Still, I move on and attempt to lead with patience and kindness. Three training shifts with Teddy—that’s it. “Normally we have two to three people working the gift shop, while Ms. Velasco or one of the other managers float through the whole property. When we do have three or more working the shop, we try to make everything easier and have a helper with every cashier.” I point to the two registers. “So if you’re on the register, I’ll be right next to you, packing things so that, as soon as the customer pays, I can hand them their package and keep the line moving.”
He cups his chin with his hand, his lips pursed. It’s a model move that makes me look away. How does he do it? How can someone be so attractive yet so utterly aggravating??
“Wouldn’t it be better if we just open up a second register?” He looks up at the ceiling, as if someone’s feeding him info from above. “Serving two in five minutes is better than se
rving one in four minutes, right? If you do the math…then in twenty minutes we serve eight customers rather than five.”
I shake my head, and a laugh bubbles out of me. Yeah, looks definitely don’t make up for attitude.
“You’re saying I’m wrong? I’m a whiz at math. Puzzles too.”
“No. Your algebra is right, but you’ve been here a day. How did you even estimate that it takes five minutes versus four minutes per customer? And you don’t know how much concentration it takes to pack up these items. Many of the things we sell are fragile. Besides, these are Ms. Velasco’s procedures, and we’ve been doing it this same way for years.”
“But if everyone said that, then there wouldn’t be new inventions, trailblazers. Whistleblowers.”
“We are part-time employees in a gift shop, Teddy. And it’s time to open the doors.” I grit my teeth and refocus our conversation to the shadows of customers outside the front doors. This is a no-win situation, since Ms. Velasco is his aunt. She’s who he’ll need to contend with ultimately, not me.
“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me with a sarcastic grin.
As he lumbers toward the front, I put my phone away. Above all, Ms. Velasco’s pet peeve is using our phones while working. But before I stick it under the counter, where a wireless charger sits, a notification from my blog lights up the screen:
[Tinsel & Tropes] IloveReading: Putting this book down on my TBR! And can’t wait for your blog birthday surprise.
It’s followed by a text from Carm:
Ready for our first Mission tonight? Make an Ornament night with Mrs. Claus?
I groan. It’s thirty-five dollars for a glass ball ornament and glitter. But I did promise.
Lila: How could I forget?
You set my calendar to alarm this morning!
Carm: KC will be there too
