by Lexi Eddings
“I’m sure you will. Now, what part are you interested in playing?”
The girl’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I dunno. Whatever part you think I can play.”
“Good answer,” Angie said as Seth handed Emma the page with the verses they’d decided all the female auditionees would read. There was really only one coveted part for women—the Virgin herself.
Unlike Lucinda Warboy, at least Emma was the right age to play Mary.
Emma shifted and put her weight on both feet as she studied the page.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Seth said.
Emma cleared her throat and started softly. “ ‘My soul doth magnify the Lord.’ ”
“A little louder,” he suggested.
“No, it’s okay,” Angie said. Chances were good the young virgin didn’t feel like shouting when she first realized she was pregnant out of wedlock. It made sense to start the Magnificat softly. “Go on, Emma.”
“ ‘And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.’ ” Her voice was a little shaky, but grew stronger as she continued. “ ‘For He hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.’ ”
Angie’s imagination kicked into overdrive. Emma as Mary would run away from her home in Nazareth to take refuge in her cousin Elisabeth’s home. But as she approached with news of the impending birth, she’d discover that Elisabeth already knew. It would give her the courage to praise God in the face of what must surely have been some sidelong looks from her friends and neighbors in Nazareth.
“ ‘For He that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is His name,’ ” Emma said in a strong clear voice.
Angie leaned toward Seth and whispered, “I think we’ve found our Mary.”
He nodded.
“And I’ve got an idea.” The pageant began to take shape in her mind. It didn’t have to be a static scene in one place, the Holy Family frozen in statue-like stillness while shepherds and wise men wandered in and out, like moveable pieces of a large cuckoo clock orbiting the main figures.
In Angie’s version, the Christmas story would be presented from its beginning, with the angel announcing the Christ Child’s coming. Then the pageant would flow with the characters until they reached the City of David.
So it would have to be structured more like a procession, parading from the far end of Main Street to the manger on the Square. The town’s people would have to line up along the street to watch the drama unfold and then fall in behind Mary and Joseph as they traveled along. The audience would be sort of like golf fans, trooping behind their PGA favorites from one hole to the next. In this way, the whole community would make the journey to Bethlehem.
“What have you got rolling around in your head, Angie?” Seth said with a worried frown. “I can see the wheels turning and I don’t think I’m gonna like it.”
She smiled sweetly at him. This ask required a little sweetness. “How would you feel about building quite a few more pageant sets?”
Chapter 13
Maybe I can get through Thanksgiving without
everyone finding out. It’s only a week or so away.
But Christmas? There’s no way I can fake being jolly.
—Crystal Addleberry, mother of two, respected dean of admissions at Bates College, and scared to death her family will discover her husband has left her
“Riley, put that down this instant.”
“But Mommy—”
“Don’t ‘but Mommy’ me. You’ll drop it and break it. No, not there. Back where you got it. No! Do as I say or you’re going to be sorry. Do you hear me, young lady?”
The woman’s voice sounded equal parts resigned and frantic as it echoed down the empty corridor of the Bates College administration building. The place smelled of lemon oil polish and mustiness from the myriad books that Angie imagined were hidden in the offices behind the closed oak doors that led off the corridor. Stacks of untidy texts and papers ringing the room were the hallmarks of an academician, after all. Angie and Seth’s footfalls seemed unnaturally loud as they walked toward Crystal Addleberry’s office at the end of the hall. Since it was Saturday, hardly anyone was around, and the effect was slightly creepy.
Like an empty amusement park or a museum after hours, Angie thought.
“But it can’t sit in the window. The sun will make it melt.” A high little voice wafted down the hall. “The snow globe wants to be someplace else, Mommy.”
“Don’t we all,” came the muttered reply.
Seth leaned into the office and rapped on the open door. “Crystal?”
“Oh!” The knock seemed to startle her even though Seth had assured Angie that his cousin knew they were coming. Unlike the unruly professors’ offices Angie had imagined, Crystal’s was immaculate. No self-respecting speck of dust would dare show itself. The books on her shelves marched in neat rows. The shades at every window of her corner office were drawn to the exact midpoint and the flourishing philodendron in the corner had probably never let a single leaf turn yellow. “Come in, Seth.”
“Thanks for seeing us,” he said.
Angie was grateful that he was still willing to introduce her to his cousin after she sprang her new idea for the pageant on him. It was going to mean a lot more work for him and his construction crew, but he’d grudgingly agreed.
“This is Angela Holloway, high school English teacher and drama coach,” he told Crystal. “She’s directing the Christmas pageant this year.”
“Oh, yes. I saw your Macbeth.” Crystal cleared her throat loudly. “It was . . . a unique presentation.”
Well, that’s a noncomplimentary compliment if ever I heard one. Angie gave her a nod and a flat smile.
“Nice to finally meet you.” Angie had seen Crystal Addleberry around town a few times. She and her husband Noah were Coldwater Cove’s power couple. Noah was heir to the Addleberry family’s extensive collection of local businesses and real estate. Always dressed to the nines, Crystal set the standard for fashion about town, and, in addition to her prestigious position at the college, she was the mover and shaker behind several charity events.
Dressed in jeans and a shirt so wrinkled it appeared she’d slept in it, Crystal looked far less polished than her office at the moment.
“Please have a seat. Riley, stop climbing on those shelves.” Crystal bolted across the office to pluck her daughter from a precarious perch on a shelf that held a number of awards and trophies. The child, who appeared to be about six, was all knees and elbows and limber as a lemur.
“But the snow globe wants to be up there.”
“But it belongs here.” Crystal deposited the globe back on the windowsill and handed her daughter a cell phone. “Sit down and play Angry Birds. Mommy’s busy.”
“I don’t like Angry Birds,” the little girl said. “I wanna play Happy Birds.”
“There’s no such thing as Happy Birds.”
“Is, too. I see them all the time out my window.”
Crystal sighed. “Just be still for a bit, and when Mommy is done working, we’ll go by the Green Apple for ice cream.”
“Will Daddy be there?” Riley’s little heart-shaped face looked hopeful.
“Just play your game, honey.” Crystal returned to her chair behind the massive desk, swept her longish bangs to the side, and met Angie’s gaze with a penetrating stare. Frazzled mom or not, the business woman had arrived. “So, you’re directing the Christmas pageant this year.”
“That’s right.”
Strange that Seth didn’t mention he claimed the role of codirector to his cousin.
“Well, to be honest, I’m relieved,” Crystal said as she leaned back in her chair. “When Mother decided she couldn’t do the pageant this year, I was afraid it would fall to me. I’m glad she punted it to the Warm Hearts Club. This really isn’t a good time for me to take on anything else.”
Is there ever a good time to have a major holiday tradition dumped in
your lap?
“As you can see, I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment with . . .” Crystal’s eyes seemed to unfocus for a blink, but then she hurried on. “Well, it’s a busy time of year for the college, so before you ask, I can’t be involved in the pageant in any way.”
Her jaw was tight and her eyes had a puffiness about them no amount of makeup could disguise. Angie thought Seth’s cousin was either suffering from acute hay fever, though it was the wrong time of year for it, or Crystal Addleberry had been crying her eyes out.
“Actually, we aren’t here to ask you to do anything for the pageant,” Seth said. Crystal’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Angie was hoping you could recommend someone on the college staff who could write a new script for it.”
“A new script?” Crystal said as if Angie had asked for a new constitution. “Does Mother know you intend to change the old one?”
“We figure it’ll be a nice surprise for her,” Angela said.
Crystal snorted. “You don’t know Shirley Evans, do you? Her credo is ‘This is how we did it the first time. So it is now and ever shall be. Yea, verily. Amen.’ ”
“I thought it was ‘If a little is good, a lot’s a whole bunch better,’ ” Seth said.
Crystal rolled her eyes. “That’s the Evans family motto.”
Angie sighed. Between credos and mottos, sublets and wickedly handsome cousins, every time she turned around, she found herself in the middle of something to do with the Evans family. She resolved to give her friend Heather a good shake the next time she saw her for roping her into this. No matter what she did with the pageant, someone was going to be upset.
What kind of friend puts you in such a no-win situation?
“Does Bates have an English professor who might write something for us?” Angie asked.
“You could ask Dr. Barclay, I suppose,” Crystal said, “but fair warning. She’s into experimental theater.”
“By that, Crystal means the Holy Family might just be portrayed by sock puppets,” Seth drawled.
“I like puppets.” The little girl left her mother’s cell phone on the floor and popped up beside Angie’s chair. “Are you doing a play? I could be in it. I know how to dance.”
She did a clumsy pirouette and then dipped in an exaggerated diva bow.
Angie smiled at her. “Maybe you can be in the pageant.” Angie envisioned her in a lamb costume for a second, but decided she would be so cute, she’d steal all the attention from the Christ Child. “Riley, is it?”
The girl nodded vigorously. “Riley Addleberry.”
“Riley is a pretty name,” Angie said. “What’s your middle name?”
The child’s forehead scrunched in a frown.
“Come on, Riley,” Crystal urged. “Tell the lady your middle name.”
“I don’t memember what it is.” She shrugged.
“Remember, not memember. And yes, you do,” her mother insisted. “What does Mommy call you when she is upset with you?”
Riley’s lips lifted in a mischievous smile. “Little twink.”
“Riley Lynn Addleberry!” Crystal’s cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. “What a thing to say.”
“Hey!” Seth laughed. “Give the kid a break. And be grateful you never called her anything worse than little twink.”
Just then, a tall man with caramel-colored skin, dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard appeared at Crystal’s door. “Mrs. Addleberry, I—oh! I will come back later. I did not realize you were otherwise occupied.”
“That’s all right, Dr. Gonncu. Please come in.” Crystal stood to welcome the newcomer. “This is my cousin, Seth Parker. He owns Parker Construction here in town. And this is Angela Holloway, who teaches English at the high school.” She gestured toward the professor. “Dr. Zafer Gonncu. He’s our new professor of mathematics here at Bates.”
Seth shook the man’s hand. Angie however had slipped into director mode. She was so busy imagining what a splendid magi the middle-eastern professor would make, she offered her hand to him without thinking. Dr. Gonncu didn’t move to take it.
“I ask your pardon, Ms. Holloway. My faith prohibits me from touching a woman to whom I am not related,” the professor said with a lovely accent. “But I am pleased to meet you and hope you will forgive me this breach of your western etiquette.”
His grammar was so flawless, Angie would forgive him anything. “There is nothing to forgive. The fault is mine.” Embarrassed, she shoved her hand into her pocket. “I didn’t realize.”
“Few do. I thank you for your understanding.”
“Are we done, Seth?” Crystal asked. “Dr. Gonncu and I have some business to discuss. He’s in the process of expanding our math department.”
“That sounds exciting,” Angie said, though math had never been her strong suit.
“It sounds necessary,” Dr. Gonncu corrected. “If our graduates hope to find meaningful employment upon matriculation, the college must offer more advanced math and hard science degrees.”
“We call them STEM classes at Coldwater High,” Angela said. “Science, technology, engineering and mathematics.”
“In my country, we call them basic education,” the professor said, with the slightest hint of condescension.
It wasn’t the first time Angie had bumped into techno-geeks who thought a subject that didn’t involve numbers wasn’t worth studying. She also knew a number of computer science majors who could code to beat the band, but couldn’t put a coherent sentence together to save their souls.
Balance in all things.
“From what country do you come, if I may ask?” she said.
“Turkey. I taught at university there.”
“I understand your emphasis on math, but there must be room in the Turkish soul for the liberal arts as well. After all, your people gave the world Yunus Emre.”
His mouth formed a quick “oh” of astonishment. “You know Emre?”
“A little. Enough to know he’s one of your country’s most beloved poets.” Angie cast about for her favorite quote from the thirteenth-century writer. “ ‘There’s no use hiding it—What’s inside always leaks outside.’ ”
Dr. Gonncu smiled. “It loses a bit in translation, but I believe that is from One who is Real is Humble. I am honored.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to stay and swap poetry, we need to get going,” Seth said. “Thanks for the recommendation about the script, Crystal.” Then he looked down at his cousin’s daughter. “How about if we take Riley to the Green Apple for you?”
Crystal’s grateful expression was almost pathetic. “Would you?”
“Sure.” Seth offered Riley his hand, but she didn’t take it right away.
“I can’t touch nobody I’m not related to either,” she said with a quick look at the math professor.
“Then you’re in luck because we are related. I just missed a few of the family reunions lately, that’s all,” Seth told the child. “We’ll have her back in an hour or so.”
“Or longer would be fine,” Crystal said. Hopefully, Angie thought. “If I’m not here when you get back, please drop her by my folks’ house. Go with your cousin, Riley.”
“He’s not a cousin,” she said in a stage whisper to her mom. “He’s a man. Cousins are s’posed to be kids.”
Seth bent down so they were face-to-face. “I may be all grown up, but I am your cousin, Riley. Your mom and I are first cousins, so that makes me your first cousin once removed.”
“Removed? What did you do wrong?” Riley asked.
Seth straightened to his full height. “Nothing.”
“You musta done something. I get removed when I do something wrong,” Riley admitted. “Mommy removes me right up to my room.”
“Riley Lynn Addleberry!”
The child put a hand to her mouth and said confidentially, “She called me by my big long name, but I bet she’s thinking ‘little twink.’ ”
Chapter 14
Your life gets messy when you let someone
else into it.
—Angela Holloway, who prefers characters in books to real people. You can always close a book. It’s harder to shut out real people once you’ve let them in
Once the Parker Construction truck stopped in front of the Green Apple, Angie and Seth and his little cousin all clambered out of the tall rig. The brisk wind that had been lashing the town for the last couple of weeks seemed to blow them right through the Grill’s door. The bells above it announced their presence with a merry jingle.
“Brr! It’s so cold today, I’m surprised you want ice cream, Riley,” Angie said.
“Everybody likes ice cream,” Riley told her as she climbed into the big corner booth and slid around to the middle of its green faux leather seat. “Don’t you like ice cream, Angie?”
“Better call her Miss Holloway,” Seth suggested. “She might be your teacher someday.”
Riley rolled her big blue eyes. “Don’t you like ice cream, Miss Holloway?” she repeated.
“I don’t like ice cream when it’s this cold outside.”
“That’s why we eat it inside,” Riley said with a grin.
“And that’s also why they invented hot fudge sundaes,” Seth said. “Have one, Angie. My treat.”
“How come you get to call her Angie?” Riley wanted to know.
“Because she’s not ever going to be my teacher,” Seth said, then shot Angie that crooked smile. It made something inside her hum, and she didn’t feel the urge to smack him this time. “At least, not in school. Seriously, have a hot fudge sundae.”
Humming or not, Angie decided she really shouldn’t be accepting things from this man. He was making her feel all jumbled up and messy. If she let him into her life for more than just the pageant, he’d make a fool of her in the end. She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could,” Riley said, her little palms upturned in a full body shrug. “All you need is a spoon.”
Angie snorted. Seth didn’t have to make a fool of her as long as Riley was around to do it for him. “There’s no arguing with logic like that.”
