I’ll talk to you soon I texted my mom. Feeling grace instead of anger.
23
Ethan
The sledding hill was jammed. The pond was full. Jasmine even had a band playing in the barn for the first few hours. People were actually dancing. Bundled up two-steps and awkward dips. There was a snowman-making contest that was just about to devolve into a snowball fight—which only seemed fitting.
Paul’s booth of homemade cocoa and apple cider was lined up. Kristen had made it back and she and Paul seemed to be attached at the lips, which was actually pretty awesome. I didn’t have time to get into it with her, but she seemed…happy? Relaxed? That was kind of a first for my sister.
The air smelled like pine and snow and apple cider donuts being fried up and eaten hot and sweet right out of mittened hands.
“Look at this, Dad,” I said, putting my arm around my old man. “And we’re not even in full swing.”
“It’s amazing. Your mother would love it,” Chris said. He’d been a bit sad earlier, Matt having left. And I wanted to say something about how he couldn’t be that surprised, could he? Matt loved other things more than this place and that was fine. It was okay. Because I loved it enough for all of us.
Dad’s somber mood must have been palpable because people were giving us a wide berth, waving at us from a distance instead of coming up and talking.
“Something weird going on?” I asked my dad.
“Not that I’ve noticed,” he said.
It was subtle but it was real, I was sure of it. Maybe Matt put his foot in it before he left. Wouldn’t be the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“Have you seen Lexie?”
“Last I saw her she was heading up to the workshop with some of her kids.”
“Final rehearsals, I guess.”
I walked upstairs to the barn only to find Lexie there with Ben and about half the usual reindeer. “What’s going on?” I asked. Lexie turned to me with a shrug. Baby Girl was nestled in her purse, her head hanging over the edge. She didn’t even growl at me and I braved the unthinkable and reached into the bag to give her a pat.
It was hard to tell, but I thought her tail was wagging.
Talk about Christmas Miracles.
Now, Lexie had strong the-show-must-go-on energy, but I could tell she was pretty bummed to have lost half her kids.
“Nerves?” I asked.
“I don’t know. A couple parents stopped by the desk and told me their kids wouldn’t be performing and they were really rude.”
“Rude?”
“Yeah, and I can’t get Chelsea to answer her phone.”
I looked down at Ben, and maybe it was because I’d grown up with Matt so I had more than a passing relationship with a kid who would lie just about anything, but that kid looked about as guilty as they come.
“Ben?’
“He doesn’t know any more than we do,” Lexie said. “I already asked him.”
Hmm, I thought.
“We need to get the kids downstairs for the show,” she said looking at her watch. “Can you introduce us?”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t you?” I asked her, hating to see her give up what had been such a big point of pride.
“I’m too nervous,” she said with a shaky smile. She lifted her hands and I saw them tremble. “I’ve done hundreds of shows myself and I’m more nervous about this one than I was about any of those.”
That, I thought, was because she’d finally found something she was completely invested in. She’d given her all to these kids and it was so strange that they’d back out last minute. But maybe Lexie was right. Maybe it was just nerves.
Lexie
We got downstairs and I was nearly bowled over by a completely distraught Chelsea. She was wearing her costume, her starry night veil that Ben had made for her in her hand. She clung to my legs and I hung onto her careful to keep Baby Girl out of the way.
“Honey, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry,” she cried. Her voice breaking all over the place. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“What’s your fault?” I asked, pushing her back and wiping the giant tears falling down her face. “Honey, nothing is so bad you need to cry like this.”
“You don’t know what I did!” she cried.
“Excuse me, I’d like a word.” Chelsea’s mother was suddenly there, pulling her daughter off my leg in a way that looked like it hurt.
“Is there a problem?” Ethan asked, stepping forward.
“I’d say there is.” Chelsea’s mom was shaking so hard the edges of her hair were shaking. “And it’s her.”
She pointed right at me.
“Me?”
“Lexie?” Ethan said at the same time. “I’m sorry, Mrs.—””
“Dyer.”
“Mrs. Dyer, whatever has happened, I assure you, Lexie hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“No?” Mrs. Dyer’s eyebrows hit her forehead and my stomach sank. A woman didn’t come at a situation with this much starch unless she knew she was right. Or had enough evidence to believe wholeheartedly she was right. Or was crazy.