The Christmas Layover

by Robert Tate Miller

  “Look at the tree!” Noel gushed as they rolled by. “It’s got ornaments on it!” Noel, on the other hand, seemed genuinely enthused about everything she saw.

  “Yes,” Jake explained, “pretty much everybody in town makes an ornament and hangs it on the tree. Not just for Christmas—Hanukkah, too.” Jake remembered back when he’d done that every year and why he’d abruptly stopped. A lump came to his throat. Don’t remember, he reminded himself. Live in the moment.

  “That’s nice,” Ally said. “You really know how to do Christmas here in Bethlehem. But, then again, I guess, being Bethlehem, it only stands to reason.” Jake looked over at her, and she gave him a smile that he figured must have melted many a heart in its day. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks and looked away.

  …

  “Merry Christmas and welcome to Bethlehem!”

  Peggy Nelson stood at the edge of her front porch. She was wearing a white apron with a candy cane on the front with the words It’s not going to lick itself. Ally stood by the front gate, taking it all in, impressed by how Jake effortlessly unloaded the pile of luggage from the bed of his red truck. She thought about offering to help, but enjoyed watching him play hero.

  “Sure you don’t need help?” she teased as he lifted out the last bag. “Hate for you to slip a disc.”

  “I’m fine,” Jake said, faking a strained voice. “What’d you pack in here, bowling balls?”

  “Actually, that’s mostly Noel’s stuff. I travel light.”

  Ally thought the house was like something inside a Christmas snow globe. It was a two-story traditional, and, in all her life, she had never seen a house more dolled up for Christmas. It was literally lined from head to toe with glimmering Christmas lights—along the gutters and eaves and porch posts, the roof and chimney. There was a large festive wreath on the front door with a big red ribbon in the center. Plastic candy canes lined the walkway, and the yard was a hodgepodge medley of little creatures. There were elves and penguins, reindeer and a cluster of ceramic carol singers with big o-shaped mouths.

  “Wow,” Noel said. “Isn’t it amazing, Ally?”

  “Yeah. It sure is,” Ally said. Despite her stress over the Tim situation, she felt a little-girl giddiness at the happy scene. As Jake kicked open the gate and headed up the walk with the luggage, Peggy came down to greet her guests close-up.

  “Jake did all this,” she said as if reading their minds. “I had to promise him a dish of my beef stroganoff, though. He’s not much into Christmas these days, as you can tell from his house.” Peggy nodded to the two-story house just across the street. Ally took it in. Jake’s home was nice and neat, but, Peggy was right, it was decidedly un-Christmassy, and the opposite of her host’s house in every way. It looked more late February than late December. Again, she wondered, what did Christmas do to this guy?

  “Thank you so much for letting us stay,” Ally said, taking the hand of her hostess. Peggy ignored it and came in for a hug.

  “I’m a hugger,” she said. Peggy swept Noel up in the embrace, too. “Group hug for my special house guests.”

  …

  By the time Ally and Noel finished their tour of Peggy’s house and walked into the upstairs guest room, Jake had already gone home. Ally saw him from the window of her temporary residence as he gathered an armful of firewood from the side of his house. Peggy’s guest room was quaint and charming and homey. “I hope you girls don’t mind doubling up,” Peggy said. Ally saw that the bed was king-sized. She didn’t relish sharing it, but at least there was ample room.

  “I don’t mind at all,” Noel said. “We can stay up late giggling.”

  “Sure,” Ally said. “Besides, it’s just for one night anyway.” The room looked like something out of the Christmas edition of Better Homes and Gardens. There was a four-poster bed and real hardwood floors. The cozy chair by the window had a handmade afghan with the words “Joy” and “Peace” stitched in. A peppermint candle burned on an antique dresser, and there was a painting of a sledding scene on the wall over the bed.

  Ally thought about how her life had taken such an abrupt and unexpected turn. Yet, there she was, tucked away in a charming little room in some Norman Rockwell dream in the middle of nowhere.

  Fate has a strange way of making plans.

  “Think I’ll check out the little girls’ room,” Noel said. She headed into the bathroom and closed the door. Peggy studied Ally for a moment.

  “I’m really glad you’ve come to stay. I think you’re going to love it here.”

  Ally smiled. I wish I could believe you, she thought. “Thanks. I know it was a little unexpected—to say the least.”

  “Well,” Peggy said, “fate has a strange way of making plans.”

  Ally felt her heart jump. She thought about telling her host that she was, in fact, thinking that very thing, but instead just said, “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Well, I’ll let you girls get settled,” Peggy said. “We’ll have dinner at seven. Hope you like steak.”

  Ally grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I’m a vegetarian.”

  “Oh,” Peggy said, not missing a beat, “have no fear. I’ve been told I make a helluva salad.”

  Peggy headed out, then turned back in the door. “By the way,” she said, “you must try Charlie’s while you’re in town.”

  “Charlie’s?” Ally asked.

  “Our local greasy spoon. Jake runs it now that Charlie’s gone. Charlie was his father—my husband.”

  “Oh,” Ally said. “I’ll try and stop by.”

  Peggy gave her guest one last smile and headed out. Ally pulled her smartphone charger from her backpack and plugged her phone in the wall socket. Then, she sat on the floor staring at it as the charge slowly took hold. Thirty seconds. A minute. She was finally able to see that she had three texts and two missed calls. Ally lit up. Yes! Finally.

  She quickly checked. The first two texts were from her L.A. girlfriend Phoebe, the third was from her yoga studio manager Devyn. The missed calls were from the airline and from her mother. Ally sighed and felt a dread knot grip her stomach.

  No Tim. He hadn’t tried to reach her. Ally sat for a moment, her heart racing, her breath labored. There was no explanation for this, nothing that would make it okay. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She checked the text from Devyn.

  Hey Als. Can you call me when you get in? NAE.

  Ally knew that NAE was the acronym for not an emergency. She tried Tim again, leaving him a long and rambling voicemail that seemed to traverse her gamut of emotions.

  “Hi.” Ally started with a clipped and terse tone, then realized that might seem insensitive if he was in fact either dead or in the hospital. “I mean hey. I’m super worried about you. I hope you’re okay, but I’m starting to think you’re not. I can’t think of any other reason why I wouldn’t have heard from you by now. I don’t know if you’ve been watching or listening to the news, but they’ve closed all the airports on the eastern seaboard. We didn’t find this out until the plane was already in the air, so we had to be diverted to this little airport in northern Colorado. It’s okay. I’m safe and fine. Local people are putting us up until the storm passes and we can get airborne again. Tim, I’m just…I’m really worried. This is so unlike you. Please call me right away, or as soon as you can. I’m going to start calling hospitals. I love you so much.”

  Ally hung up and stared at her phone. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her neck. Her temple started to throb. She took a deep breath and mustered all her yoga training. She was going to need it. Noel seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom, so she decided to call her mother in New York and fill her in.

  …

  “Mom, I told you, I’m staying in someone’s private home. It’s really quite lovely.” Ally had turned the small TV on the dresser to a national newscast with the volume muted. She could hear Noel’s off-key voice singing “Jingle Bells” as she continued to freshen up in the bathroom. She curled up on the
floor by the socket, talking on her smartphone as it continued to charge.

  “Someone’s private home? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Lucille Henderson said from her Upper West Side Manhattan apartment. “What kind of airline does that? You should be in the Four Seasons for all the inconvenience they’ve put us through.”

  Ally threw up her hands. This is not the time, she thought. She did think it was funny that—while her mother lived a run-of-the-mill middle-class existence—she always name-dropped five-star hotels as if she’d ever stayed in one.

  “Mom? The airline has nothing to do with the blizzard. They were forced to land here. And here just so happens to be a few hundred miles from the nearest Four Seasons. Everything’s fine. I assure you.”

  “If you say so,” Lucille said. “How’s Tim handling all this stress?” Ally thought seriously about just telling her the truth—that she hadn’t heard from Tim since she left L.A., that he wasn’t answering her texts or returning her calls.

  “He’s fine. You know men. They leave all the stressing to us women.”

  Noel’s off-key singing voice carried from the bathroom. What’s taking her so long? Ally thought. She had switched seamlessly from “White Christmas” into a countrified version of “O Christmas Tree.”

  “Look, Mom. I have to go. I’ll update you later.” Ally hung up before her mother could protest and dropped her phone in frustration. “Ugh.”

  She got up and went to the window. There were a few snow flurries dancing about in the evening air. She saw Jake exit his house and head to his truck. Just as he reached the driver’s door, he looked up toward her window. Ally quickly stepped back out of sight. When she heard his truck door close and the engine start, she took a peek and watched as Jake headed off toward town. She then plopped down on the bed, scooped up the remote, and un-muted the TV just as a news anchor gave the latest on what they were calling the Blizzard Blast.

  “R eports are coming in that major airports on the eastern seaboard will be closed tomorrow for a second consecutive day, stranding hundreds of thousands of passengers all across the country. And, it looks like there’s no end in sight, as 6-8 inches of new snow is forecast today from Boston to Baltimore, along with intense, hurricane-like winds. Power outages have been reported…”

  Ally switched it off and slipped into Sukhasana. So, she was stuck there. It was the 20th of December, and, if the storm didn’t lift soon, she could well be spending Christmas in Bethlehem. My wedding. What about my wedding? What about my fiancé? She frowned at the thought as she listened to Noel’s shrill caroling in the bathroom. She thought about a quote that hung on the wall of her studio in Beverly Hills.

  Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.

  She decided to call Devyn to check on the NAE message.

  “Devyn, hey. Ally.”

  Ally’s studio manager picked up on the second ring. Ally was a little surprised that Devyn had texted her so shortly after she’d left for her wedding. She remembered that Devyn’s parting words were, “Don’t worry, I won’t call you even if the place burns down.”

  “Hey, Ally,” Devyn said. “Heard there was a weather problem. Did it affect you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ally said. “I’d say so. I’m stuck in a little red-state town just east of Whoknowswhere.” Ally could hear Devyn chuckle nervously and knew something was up. “Devyn, is this about Tim?”

  “So, you still haven’t heard from him?” Devyn asked.

  “Not a peep since I left the studio this morning,” Ally said. There was a long pause on Devyn’s end. “Dev? Have you heard from him?”

  “Not at all,” Devyn said. “I was just calling to say that I noticed Tim’s office door was closed. Since it’s never closed, and I store stuff in his mini-fridge, I checked it, and it was locked. Any idea why he would do that?”

  “No idea,” Ally said. She took a moment to process. Why would that office door be locked?

  “Devyn, can you find a way to get into Tim’s office?”

  “I’ll have to call a locksmith.”

  “Okay,” Ally said. “Do that, and then let me know what you find. This is really starting to scare me.” Ally hung up.

  “You know, I could get used to it here,” Noel said as she finally emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a robe that Peggy had provided; her hair was wet from the shower. “If I could just have Brian with me. Feel.” She thrust her belly in Ally’s face. “Chelsea’s really kicking. I think she likes to hear Mommy sing. Maybe she’s trying to join in.” Ally put her palm on Noel’s large bare belly and, sure enough, she could feel a stirring going on.

  “Wow, I feel her,” Ally said. “Amazing.”

  “I know,” Noel said. She headed over to the dresser mirror and started working on her hair. “Think you could teach me some yoga? At least when I’m not pregnant.”

  “Sure. I actually teach a class for pregnant women.”

  “Cool,” Noel said, continuing to brush, “I just hope my baby doesn’t arrive early. Chelsea Rose has to be born in New Jersey. If I buck family tradition, my grandmother will pass a cow.”

  “You’re eight months pregnant,” Ally said. “That would be pretty early.”

  “Well, I may have fudged a little on the plane,” Noel said. “Didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Fudged a little?” Ally said. “How little?”

  “I’m actually around thirty-four weeks, but I knew it was safe to fly. The airline only requires a doctor’s note if you fly after thirty six weeks, so I was fine. And, like I said, everybody delivers late in my family. It’s a long-standing tradition.”

  “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Ally said. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll be on our way in no time at all—day after at the latest.” Ally had no idea if that was anywhere near a possibility, or if she was just trying to make Noel feel better.

  “If you say so,” Noel said. Noel chattered away as she started to unpack. She spoke of Brian and baby plans and how good Peggy’s house smelled.

  Ally tried to focus on what her temporary roomie was saying, even tossed in a comment here and there, but, in reality, her mind was someplace far away. All she could think about was Tim and wonder what in the world was going on with him. The wedding, Ally thought, is that even still happening? For some reason, she felt strangely detached from the outcome.

  Ally felt as if she hadn’t slept in a week as she sat like a catatonic toad in the middle of the bed and watched Noel start to unpack, assigning herself the two top dresser drawers because “I can’t bend over too well, and you’re more flexible.”

  Finally, Ally managed to utter an “I’m going for a walk” and got up from the bed, slipped her boots back on, grabbed a pullover sweater, and started out.

  “Is everything okay, Ally?” Noel asked. “You don’t look so hot.” Ally paused in the doorway and forced her face muscles to form a smile. She remembered her phone, checked the charge. Ten percent. She snatched it out of the wall, charger and all.

  “Sure. I just need some fresh air. Tell Peggy I’ll be back by dinner.”

  Chapter Six

  Ally took a left at Peggy’s gate and headed in the direction she was pretty sure would lead to the town center. She couldn’t ignore the festive houses as she made her way down the picket fence–lined sidewalk. This town really was like some Hallmark Christmas Card, or a tiny gift shop snow globe that you shook to make it snow. Most yards were still white from the most recent snowfall. From the moist chill in the air and the look of the gray sky, Ally thought more of the white stuff might be on the way. Please, God, no more snow. I have to get out of this town. I need city lights, and traffic…and screeching subway trains. I need food choice and juice bars. I’ll die here.

  Ally stopped in the square and took a seat on the top step of the old Victorian bandstand. The whole green was decked out in a cutesy Santa’s Village motif, complete with little h
ouses and street signs that said things like Rudolph Way, Cupid’s Court, and Frosty Lane. “Damn, that’s a tall tree,” Ally said to herself as she dialed Tim’s friend Jeff. The Bethlehem town square Christmas tree was huge. Ally wondered when it had been planted and how big it was then. She knew trees a little from a botany course she took at NYU. That’s a blue spruce, she thought. She could see it was layered with homemade ornaments, some incredibly artistic, others not so much. The tree had hundreds of strands of white, red, and green lights that started wide at the base and wound tighter and tighter all the way to the top, where a metallic lighted star crowned the peak.

  Near the foot of the tree sat a large red velvet chair with a sign on a pole next to it that read “Santa is Feeding His Reindeer.” There was a roped-off corridor where kids were already starting to gather for the big guy’s return.

  “Ally?” Jeff picked up on the third ring.

  “Yeah, Jeff,” Ally said. “Hi.”

  “What’s up?” he said. “How have you been? And congrats on your impending nuptials.” Ally felt a little guilty that Jeff hadn’t been invited, but, then again, Tim hadn’t invited any of his L.A. friends, or really anybody at all, now that she thought about it. Both his parents were dead, he had no siblings, and, though he told Ally he was inviting a few close friends, she couldn’t think of any that had RSVP’d. What does that mean? she wondered. She figured that, whatever it signified, when combined with his disappearing act, it wasn’t good.

  “Thanks,” Ally said. She’d never really liked Jeff, thought he was a bit of a kiss-ass, but she tried to be polite. “Have you heard from Tim, by the way?”

  “Heard from him?” It bugged Ally when people threw her question back at her.