Christmas at Prescott Inn

by Cathryn Parry

  Emilie wrapped a blanket around herself. “Yes.” It occurred to her that Nell was losing her job, too. “I’m sorry, Nell,” she said.

  Nell’s entire body drooped. “He tried so hard to keep the business going. I don’t know what we’re going to do now.”

  Emilie, for once, had nothing reassuring to say. Life was hard. Dreams didn’t always come true.

  And hope didn’t always work. Nathan was right about one thing: practicality was the way forward.

  “I’m tired,” Emilie said. “We have a dress rehearsal in the morning.”

  “And now it might be your only show!”

  Emilie didn’t say anything. She would call the team together later and let them vote. Honestly, she was finding it hard to care one way or the other what they decided. She glanced at Nell. “Would you mind videotaping the show for us tomorrow? My boss wants a copy. It’s the only thing she really asked me to do.”

  “Of course I will!” Nell paused. “Isn’t that good news that she wants a copy?”

  “I’m not getting my hopes up.”

  “Think about it. If you impress her, then maybe she’ll step in and do something for you.”

  Emilie shook her head. “I’m being practical.”

  “Still...” Nell grabbed another blanket as she sat on the bed. “Will you be performing your new show, the one you’ve been working on?”

  Emilie snorted. “The soundtrack isn’t narrated. The props aren’t painted. There still are costumes to adjust.”

  “I could rally everyone to help.”

  Nell just wasn’t letting this go.

  “To what end?” Emilie shook her head. “No. I don’t see how it will do any good.”

  “You worked so hard on it. And it’s a special show, using your special talents. I think you should perform it just to please yourself.”

  Emilie stopped. Just to please herself?

  “Admit it,” Nell said. “Don’t you want to see it performed? I mean, I know you were choreographing that show for...well, you had your list of reasons.”

  Pleasing Nathan, impressing Donnie, keeping her team employed. Yes, Emilie remembered those reasons.

  “What if...you just did it?” Nell pressed. “For the joy of it.”

  Emilie sat on her bed, chewing on that. It was true that designing the special show had excited her. It had been a challenge. A pleasurable challenge.

  “Am I right, Emilie? Can’t we just have fun?”

  Fun. A refreshing word.

  Like she and Nathan had done back on the ship, when they’d lived just to enjoy the days.

  Emilie found herself nodding.

  Nell clapped her hands. “Let’s get started! We have so much to do. Oh, how I love a show! Especially a Christmas show!”

  * * *

  ANOTHER TEN MINUTES LATER, and Emilie was dressed in her rehearsal clothes—comfortable yoga pants and a warm, long sweater that tied around her waist. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and she carried a clipboard.

  “Come on, Nell. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  Nell grinned at her and gave her a thumbs-up. Emilie opened the door to the corridor and headed outside, with Nell close behind.

  They stared down the length of the west wing hallway. Emilie’s team was in party mode. Pop music blared from someone’s open door. Laughter echoed, followed by the pounding of someone running down the hallway adjacent to theirs.

  Emilie tucked her clipboard under her arm, put two fingers to her mouth and let go an ear-piercing whistle.

  Dead silence greeted her. Everyone seemed frozen in place.

  Emilie knew she’d shocked them because she’d never acted like this before.

  They all faced her, mouths closed and ears open.

  “That’s better,” Emilie said to them all. And then she began to issue orders. “Everyone into my room, please. There will be no exceptions. No absences will be tolerated. Leave your drama at the threshold, because I will no longer permit it.”

  Every single person gaped at her.

  “Who are you and where have you left Ice Mom?” somebody whispered.

  “Enough!” Emilie said. She pointed her finger. “I am not your mother—I am a professional. We’re all professionals. It’s time to act like it.”

  Gary turned to the others. “Come on. Let’s do as she says.”

  Nell went inside Emilie’s room first. She was followed by Gary, Curtis, Lars, Drew, Katya, Sergei, Rosie, Julie and Lynette—the whole team. When they were all present and accounted for, seated on the two beds and the desk chairs, Gary nodded at her.

  No one said a word. They all waited for her lead.

  Emilie stood before them. “Gary, please shut the door. I don’t want the children across the hall to overhear our meeting.”

  Gary did as she asked. Emilie waited until he was seated again before speaking. “I received bad news today,” she announced. “Due to circumstances beyond our control, the inn has decided not to extend our performances past Christmas, and the production company has given us the option of pulling the plug early in order to give us more time to look for other work. We will still be paid our salaries until Christmas either way, whichever option we choose. I’d like to put it to a vote after the dress rehearsal tomorrow—we can either perform all the shows we’d originally agreed to, or the dress rehearsal tomorrow will be our last show performed together.”

  A collective gasp went up. They all looked at each other.

  But Emilie squared her shoulders.

  “So let’s consider this dress rehearsal tomorrow as a real show—the most important show of our continued careers.” She looked at each skater in turn. “We will all skate our hearts out, because Lynn has requested a recording of the show. She may use it for reference if other jobs come up. Consider it an audition tape for each of you for your next assignment.”

  Emilie gazed from face to face, reading the unasked question in their eyes. “No,” she answered, “the Empress Caribbean will not be put into service again, at least not this season. But there could be other openings. So I suggest that if you want to keep skating professionally with the company, then you use this opportunity to showcase your skills to the fullest. Are there any questions?”

  No one dared to speak. Emilie again looked from face to face, but she’d done the impossible, she’d stunned them all into silence.

  No skater drama. They would keep the drama strictly on the ice for the audience’s pleasure.

  And for their own.

  “Great. I realize we’ve been focusing on the Christmas show from the ship, but I’d like to suggest we switch gears and do the new one. So now I’m going to pass out assignments, and we’re going to pull together as a team. We all need each other to do our jobs. Gary, you and I will have to work late to finish the narration for the soundtrack. Lynnette and Julie, we’ll have to reschedule our girls’ night. Then tomorrow morning, we’ll all meet at eight o’clock in the yoga room outside the gym. We’ll walk through the show then, so you’re all familiar with the added narration.

  “Rosie, Julie and Katya...” Emilie glanced at each of them in turn. “I’m relying on you to finish sewing your own costumes—all of them.” She didn’t give them time to protest or groan; she just kept moving on. “Drew, Lars and Sergei—you’ll be finishing painting the props.”

  Who had she left out? Lynette. Lynette looked forlornly at her.

  “Lynette,” Emilie decreed, “you will have the most important job of all. You’re to talk to the families of each child who lives in this hallway. I’ll need you to invite them all to the dress rehearsal. It’s extremely important that they’re present, since I’m hoping that they’ll be part of the show, too. In fact, I’m going to choreograph a special part for each of them. Can we trust you to do this?”

  Lynette nodded. Her eyes h
ad seemed to spark at “the most important job of all.” Lynette, the youngest, was usually a sidekick to the others. Emilie had a hunch she’d wanted a more powerful role, and now Emilie was giving it to her.

  “Okay.” Emilie nodded to each of them. “We’re all counting on each other to do our parts. That means we need to pull together and move forward as a team. Am I understood?”

  They each nodded.

  Good. She wanted this show to be as beautiful as they could make it. The rest of the shows...well, she was personally willing to let them go.

  This show was for them.

  Her heart pounding, she nodded to Gary. “Let’s get to it, then. We have a narration to record.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY, at a quarter to three, Nathan sat in the spot Nell had directed him to take in the stands above the outdoor skating rink in the clearing of the woods.

  The mood in the air was electric. Fifteen minutes until showtime, and the bleachers surrounding the rink were filled with excited people.

  “How did you pull this off? How did you manage all these details?” he asked Nell, who was seated beside him. She was in charge of operating the spotlight and a receiver that she said was for special effects. Nathan and Nell were seated at center ice in a special roped-off box created just for them.

  “We’ve been working together all night,” Nell said softly.

  He wasn’t surprised. Nell had also set up a video camera in front of him, one she’d borrowed from somewhere he wasn’t certain, the base screwed into a tripod for steadiness. His job was to man it. She’d just finished giving Nathan a quick tutorial.

  “Please do a good job with the recording, Uncle Nathan. I’d like us to give Emilie a decent audition tape so she can secure another job.”

  “You bet,” he said. It saddened him that he couldn’t offer her a longer-term position. But that wasn’t within his power. What could he personally do? He might be out of a job himself. He would probably be able to find another accounting position.

  But an “accounting position” couldn’t hire Emilie. Neither could it hire back his old employees. Or give the kids at the homeless shelter more permanent homes.

  “When are you going to tell everyone the news about the inn being sold?” Nell asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been asked not to say anything until the deal is finalized. So please, keep the news to yourself.”

  “All these people will be so sad when they find out.” Nell gestured toward the audience. Besides the hotel guests in the stands, he spotted many familiar faces. These were his colleagues, neighbors and friends.

  “Look,” Nell said, pointing her finger. “The fire chief is here. And he brought his family and the fire department.”

  Indeed. Four roaring campfires, each situated in a pit dug at either end of both long bleachers, were being tended by a member of the local fire department.

  “And look—Nancy, the school nurse, came, too.” Nell pointed to a spot near the fire chief. Sure enough, Nancy sat on the edge of a bleacher, next to the long curtain that separated the skaters’ “backstage” area from the rest of the ice.

  “I recognize a lot of townies here today.” Nathan squinted. Was that one of his investors—B.G. Richards?

  It was. B.G. sat with his wife and two young daughters. They were nibbling from a bag of popcorn.

  “Is Frank making popcorn back at the inn?” Nathan asked.

  Nell shook her head. “Claude made it. We carted that big machine into the lobby—you know, the one that’s just been sitting in the back storeroom?”

  Nathan did. They’d originally used the machine to make popcorn in the lobby for the guests in the afternoons. But it had seemed an extravagance to him, so he’d stopped the practice. One of his early cost-cutting measures, implemented some months ago.

  “Claude said there was a huge package of popcorn left that was still good, so I told him to just go ahead and make it. The waitstaff on duty are down in the inn parking lot, passing out the popcorn to kids. Then Frank is driving everybody up the hill. Actually, Uncle, some people are walking. The mood is quite festive.”

  Yes, everyone was getting into the Christmas spirit. Jingle bells had been attached to Nathan’s Jeep. Boughs of holly and swags of pine decorated the rink and the railings that led to the stands. A huge spruce tree at the end of the edge of the clearing had been decorated with white lights and a glowing star on top.

  “It’s almost showtime.” Nell checked her watch. She reached over and pressed a button. Yuletide, family-friendly rock music filtered over the speakers, increasing the anticipation that something big was about to happen.

  Nathan perched on the edge of his seat. He’d always loved watching Emilie skate on the ship, but the rink in the woods at Christmastime was even more special. There was an old-fashioned, community feel due to the rustic surroundings. The cool, clear mountain air was refreshing—Nathan smelled a hint of snow on the way. Indeed, a few sparse flurries filtered down from the heavens.

  A true White Christmas, just like his childhood with his grandparents. And as in those old days, the body heat of so many audience members seated closely together made the viewing stands feel cozy. The laughter of children, the deep voices from the men, the soft chatter of the women, gave the ambiance a family feel. Nathan recalled the yearning he’d experienced as a child to really belong. This was what he’d really wanted. Not the pride of inn ownership. But the sense that people were together, and that he was an important part of it.

  Marveling at this realization, he took a moment to study all the faces in the crowd. Nell must have emptied out the diner, the barbershop, the drycleaners, the crafts fair market, the police station, the tiny movie theater. Every corner of the rink’s seats were filled. Everyone in town seemed to be present.

  Most conspicuous, at center ice, on the opposite side from him, sat the kids who lived in his hotel.

  The knot rose in Nathan’s throat again. He’d been agonizing over them. What to do with them. How to help them now.

  He still had no good solution.

  His gaze fell to the one-page show program that Nell had whipped up with Emilie just this morning. He’d seen the two conferring over coffee during a break in the skaters’ final “walk-through,” as Emilie had called it, down in the conference room of his gym.

  Curious, Nathan picked up the flyleaf. “Christmas at Prescott Inn,” was the title.

  Nice, he automatically thought. An advertisement. But then he also felt a twinge of sadness in his heart. All the advertisements in the world couldn’t make his vision for the kids come true. But yet, the sentiment was there on Emilie’s part.

  Nell must have noticed his expression. “Here,” she said, pointing to the program. “While you’re waiting for the show to start, check out the cast bios. I never realized how impressive they all were.”

  She read aloud. “Julie Johnston is a former US Nationals ladies’ freestyle champion. She represented the US at the World Championships, where she placed fourth.”

  “That’s a pewter medalist.”

  “I know. And read Katya’s bio.”

  “Two-time Russian champion pairs skater, with two different partners. An Olympic medalist with a third partner.” He whistled.

  “She’s had quite a life. Many tragic losses and disappointments, from what Emilie has told me.”

  “And yet, here she is.”

  “That’s right.” Nell pointed. “Look at Curtis and Lynette, too.”

  “Canadian ice dance champions.” He put down the program. “I had no idea. Why didn’t this come out in the interview with that television reporter?”

  “Because we were focusing on the inn,” Nell said softly. “That was our plan.”

  He nodded. Emilie had emphasized the fact that the team was a homeless, shipwrecked show-cast rescued by Prescott
Inn, a family establishment in the mountains of New Hampshire, as far away from the sunny Caribbean as one could be.

  “Almost time.” Nell nudged him to gaze toward the black curtain. Emilie had poked her face out and was signaling to Nell.

  “That’s the one-minute mark. They’re ready.” Nell stood up and craned her neck to better see the front entrance. “No more stragglers. There’s Frank coming in to sit down.” Nell waved at him and then sat again. “Before I start the soundtrack, do you remember what to do with the camera, Uncle?”

  “Yes,” he said patiently. “I press this button, and the red light goes on. I look through the viewfinder and I keep the whole ice in frame. When there’s a spotlight soloist, I zoom in to get the close-up, but always keep their skates in view.”

  “Right. Never, never cut off the skate blades.” Nell nodded. “Emilie said her boss will want to see all the intricate footwork in her choreography.”

  “And for group numbers, I pull back and get everyone in the frame.”

  “Correct. You’ll do great.” Nell flashed him a genuine smile.

  He almost laughed aloud at the change in their roles. Now the tables were turned, and she was the teacher and he was the student. It was refreshing. He felt younger, with the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders, even if for the moment. He was glad to be able to do something that would help Emilie out, even if it was small.

  “Now, Uncle, I need to warn you. The show is quite different from what you’re expecting. Emilie has kept pieces of previous routines, but she made a whole new storyline as the focus. The audio for the show is substantially changed, so don’t be confused by the speaking voice in the beginning.”

  “Got it. I hope this show helps her.”

  “Well, I’m just saying—don’t expect to see Emilie skating much. She said that, mostly, she’ll be backstage, helping the cast meet their entrance cues with the new marks. They only laid out the final show just this morning.”

  “So Emilie’s not skating?” he asked, disappointed.

  “She has a small, ongoing role in the show, but I think she only skates in one solo and then the ending number.”