Noel, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “I imagine it does. You and Seth were in and out of here all the time, weren’t you?” She grinned. “I knew I didn’t need to look far to find him. Y’all were always joined at the hip.”

  Bailey tried to smile, but something about Joella’s comment made her want to burst into tears, so she changed the subject. “I’m glad you and Daddy have found each other. It relieves my mind to know he’s got you to look after him.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. It’s great to have you back.”

  “I’m glad it’s you instead of someone I’ve never met.” That would’ve been awful, she admitted to herself.

  “Honey, don’t you worry. If things fall apart, it won’t be anybody’s doing but ours. We’re grown people going into this with open eyes. And we’re not after each other’s money.”

  Another elephant in the room, maybe. “Thanks for your honesty, Joella. Daddy’s all I’ve got; you know that.”

  “I’ve known you since you were born, Bailey. I knew your beautiful momma; we were friends and had babies and young children the same age. We were neighbors. I grieved when she died. You and Seth grew up almost as close as siblings. You’ve been dear to my heart all these years and still are. Keep your worry for something that requires it.”

  Joella removed her apron, then came from around the bar and pulled Bailey into a gentle but firm hug. The kind that people who loved you gave. Bailey nearly melted against her. It was rare that she allowed herself to receive affection. In L.A., people hugged and showed affection within the arts community, but Bailey hadn’t become close enough to anyone during her time there for it to penetrate beyond the superficial.

  This kind of tender affection was motherly and loving. And so foreign to Bailey’s life in the past many years that she’d not remembered the last time it had happened. In fact, maybe Joella had actually been the last person to embrace her like this. Her daddy, yes. Their hugs were filled with love. But no one else got so near. Not women.

  *

  Bailey had to stop by Seth’s office before heading out to Evangeline House and meet with Maureen Laroux about lodging for some of the talent. There were so many details when it came to setting up the base camp where the trailers and equipment would be stationed. She had several questions for Seth to mark off the list.

  As she opened the door to leave the Pizza Pie, Bailey ran smack-dab into a shiny gold badge. And a man who smelled as good as she remembered. “Oh—it’s you. I was just—”

  “Coming to find me?” He grinned. “Cheryl said she saw you heading this way, and I thought I’d save you a trip.” He held up a manila folder and then handed it to her. “Some of the things you asked for.”

  “Oh. Thanks. I’m about to head over to Evangeline House,” Bailey said. They were walking toward the Jeep now.

  “Mind if I join you? It wouldn’t hurt to have me along as a goodwill ambassador.”

  Bailey raised her brows. “Is that necessary?” she asked.

  “No. Probably not. But I’m fresh from an annoying cattle call, so it might do us both some good.”

  She eyeballed him in question.

  He shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

  They’d made their way to the Jeep. “Do you want to drive?” she asked and dangled the keys. After all, it was his Jeep.

  “Nah. You go ahead. Do you remember how to get there?” he asked.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not like I don’t have a permanent map of this town,” Bailey laughed. “Who doesn’t know where Evangeline House is that’s been here more than once even?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. His very wide shoulders. They’d both climbed up into the Jeep and he was taking up far too much room in the small space of the cab.

  Chapter Six

  The drive to Evangeline House was like something out of a movie set. The town of Ministry prided itself on its historic homes and clean, crisp blocks and landscaped lawns. Obviously, December wasn’t the prettiest time for lawns, but the residents here made up for less-than-green grass by adorning their homes with fabulous lights, wreaths, and yes, faux snow.

  “I’d forgotten about the fake snow they put down at Christmas,” Bailey said.

  “A winter wonderland, one way or another,” Seth said.

  “Look at this place. It’s like stepping into the past.” It was the same as she’d pictured in her memory. Evangeline House was especially popular this time of year because it was the go-to spot for hosting holiday events both large and small. The enormous historic mansion and grounds was two acres plus of pure perfection.

  Back when Bailey lived in Ministry, it was the home of Cammie Laroux and her four siblings, all older besides Ben, her twin brother. They all still lived here in town, which made Bailey wonder how they did it.

  Bailey rang the doorbell after she and Seth climbed the twenty or so steps up the front porch. Everything here seemed massive. And impressive. No wonder Miss Maureen had decided to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast now that all her brood had homes of their own. It was an incredible home.

  A man answered the door. “Well, hello there, Ms. Boone, and Sheriff McKay, and come on in. I’m Howard.” He stuck out his hand. He was tall and wore starched denim jeans and a red and black plaid shirt. His gray hair was neatly combed and his manner polished and confident.

  Bailey shook his hand. “Hi. I’m here to see Maureen Laroux.”

  “Hey, Howard. How’s it going?”

  “Having a good day, we are,” Howard answered. “Let me go and get Maureen.”

  He led her inside beyond the high-ceilinged foyer into what might be termed a family area. The smell of pine was almost overwhelming. Fresh garland hung everywhere, accented with holly berries and white lights. There was a huge flat-screen TV and many lovely but comfortable couches and artfully arranged chairs and sofa tables. The seating pieces were mostly solids, with printed pillows and throws. The comfortable atmosphere would invite gatherings of all sorts from family football games to cozy functions. Bailey could see hosting a cast and crew party here.

  She looked up when she heard her name. “Oh, hi, Bailey. Sheriff. It’s so lovely to see you again.” Maureen Laroux descended the Gone with the Wind-like staircase with such grace and beauty she might have stepped right out of the movie itself. Bailey appreciated a grand entrance. Made extra grand by the insane amount of lit garland.

  “Hi, Miss Maureen. I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me. It’s been several years since we’ve seen each other.” Bailey suddenly reverted to the little girl and teen wondering if she was invisible to adults.

  Miss Maureen folded her into a similar hug as Joella had, amidst a light cloud of Chanel No. 5 that mixed with the pine. Though the hug wasn’t quite as familiar and didn’t last nearly as long. “Of course I remember you, darling. You ran around here with Cammie nearly your whole life. But you were a shy one in a crowd if I recall.” The woman tilted her head as if she was recollecting something specific. “You are a near carbon copy of your mother at this age; God rest her soul.” She closed her eyes briefly as if taking a moment of prayerful respect for Bailey’s dearly departed mother.

  Bailey wasn’t used to anyone referencing her mother, and now two women had done so in the span of an hour. When Bailey was a child, nobody discussed her, maybe for fear of upsetting either Daddy or her. “I—didn’t realize that. Thank you for saying so,” Bailey responded for lack of something better to say. The photos on the wall at home were as faded with time as her memory. The idea that she and her mother actually had things in common hadn’t occurred to her.

  “Oh, yes. She was a creative, you know. Always reading and writing when the muse struck. I’m assuming you are still a reader, and a writer too? Like you were as a child?” she asked.

  If the woman had thrown a brick at her head, Bailey wouldn’t have been more surprised by the words that came out of the genteel mouth. How could she even respond? How could Bailey say that she hadn’t known these things about her own momma? Her mother had been a writer? Daddy never tal
ked about Momma, so really, how would she know?

  Standing there with her eyes bugging out and her mouth catching flies probably wasn’t the professional adult persona Bailey was going for, so she pulled it together as best she could. Later. Later she would process the information she’d learned.

  Seth leaned over and whispered, “You okay?”

  Bailey nodded. She was suddenly glad he was there with her.

  “I didn’t realize you had such a sharp memory of me as a child. I hardly recall some of those things.” But she did, mostly because of feeling different from other girls. Bailey’s nose was often stuck in books to avoid the group activities. Writing wasn’t a choice though. Her thoughts required an outlet. Bailey wrote story after story so no one could call her out for writing about them in a journal. Best to shroud her angst in fiction.

  “I had lots of children running freely about, but I remember the interesting ones. And my favorites.” Miss Maureen winked at her and Seth. “The two of you were definitely some of my favorites. It’s good to see you, Seth. How’s Joella?”

  Seth cleared his throat. “She’s doing fine. I’ll tell her you asked after her.”

  Maureen turned to Bailey. “Now, I understand you could use some assistance finding accommodation for some folks.”

  Bailey was flummoxed by her kindness and her honesty. Nobody ever accused Maureen Laroux of being inauthentic. She always told it like it was so far as Bailey remembered. “Thank you, and yes, I do want to speak with you about rooms and possibly booking an event or two for the wrap-up.”

  “Lovely. Oh, and I’m assuming you’ve met my husband, Howard?” She nodded to the man who’d answered the door and was now busy arranging logs in the fireplace as if he planned to start a fire.

  Her husband. That’s right, someone had mentioned she’d recently remarried. “Yes, he introduced himself.”

  “I figured he had. Doesn’t lose a good opportunity to meet a new friend, does Howard.” She smiled. “Then it’s off to the kitchen we go. I find business is best done over coffee, tea, and baked goods.”

  It certainly was in this town.

  “I assume you and the sheriff have done some initial planning for what’s to come with regard to setting up your people for filming?” Maureen motion for them to sit at the large counter on a comfortable-looking barstool covered with Naugahyde leather. The entire kitchen was double the size of most. It was set up for catering events, Bailey supposed. But it didn’t come off as too industrial, though the ten-burner stainless steel stove, four cavernous ovens, along with the refrigerator that took up half the wall said differently.

  Maureen didn’t seem to intimate anything regarding Seth and her other than business, which was a relief. So far, everyone else she’d come across had made a comment about their past.

  “We have, but I also hoped, since you are the official holiday planner, to get a day-to-day schedule of events and what time they will occur. So many of our outdoor scenes will take place around your events. I know we will intrude, so I am hoping we can either film just before the scheduled event or maybe after. We’ll need local extras, so shooting while everyone is gathered makes sense. The crowd will be organic.”

  Maureen slid a tea tray with scones and tiny finger sandwiches toward Bailey. She’d listened quietly as Bailey spoke. “Help yourselves.” It was like she’d whipped them up with a magic wand. Who had those things lying around?

  “Thanks. This is lovely,” Bailey said. She could feel Seth beside her, but he wasn’t inserting himself into the conversation, which she appreciated. Maybe he was too busy scarfing down tiny sandwiches.

  Maureen reached over and pulled out a clipboard from the built-in desk that held a large paper calendar, a corkboard that hung above it, and many, many notes with colorful pins stuck on it. This woman ran a business, lest anyone forget. “Now, let me see. I’ve got the schedule right here. Most of our events are consecutive daily, beginning on the tenth, besides the kickoff to Christmas, which is in just a few days. That would mean you’ve got just over a week until the Jingle Jog, if you’re interested in filming that.”

  “Yes, I think we’re a go for that. We might need to recruit some extras as runners, depending on how many you’ve got signed up. Our hero and heroine could have a scene while it’s going on. I’m not sure how many changes will need to be worked in due to the change in venue,” Bailey said, making notes in her notebook as she spoke.

  “I can’t imagine how complicated changing everything at the last minute must be,” Maureen said.

  Bailey attempted only to focus on what her job at hand was: securing rooms for the cast and crew, lest she become completely overwhelmed. “I try not to think about the script changes this will cause. Right now I’m doing my best to anticipate how it all will seem when everyone arrives. And make the transition as smooth as possible.”

  “Well, I for one, will do anything I can to assist you in your mighty objective. Because it sounds like you will require support from others.” Maureen lifted her teacup as if in salute. “As far as rooms go, I can offer six. They are large and some share bathrooms. Please choose the tenants carefully, as they will be in my home. No rock stars, if you don’t mind.”

  Six rooms. Not nearly enough. “I’ll take the six rooms. Thank you. And I will be mindful of who stays here. No rock stars.” But there were one or two who had somewhat high opinions of themselves. Bailey made a note to put them elsewhere.

  “Is everything alright?” Maureen asked.

  “O-Oh, yes.” Bailey realized she’d run out of spaces for the crew.

  “You made a face, so I wondered.”

  “Yes. Well, I don’t know. I need to find a place for about twenty-five more people. One hotel is booked solid for Christmas and the other can only offer fifteen rooms.” Bailey had made those calls before she’d left this morning.

  “Sounds like a real pickle.” Maureen frowned. Then she narrowed her eyes. “What about the camp?”

  “The camp?” Bailey asked.

  “Your daddy’s place? The lovely camp all our kids went to in the summers? He hasn’t torn it down so far as I know, has he?” Her expression was hopeful.

  “N-no, he hasn’t torn it down.” The camp. The place where so much of her childhood was spent. The lake. Fishing with Seth. Making out with Seth. Falling in love.

  A wave of beautiful nostalgia washed through Bailey. There had been seeds of perfection during those summers. She’d taken a flashlight, a down comforter, and a kerosene heater in the winter when she’d wanted to be alone and sneaked out to her favorite cabin to read and to write.

  “Bailey? Are you alright?” Seth asked from beside her.

  Bailey shook her head to clear the reminiscing. “I’m fine. Just remembering all the years of camp in the summer.” She stole a glance at Seth, who was staring at her. Maybe he was thinking about summers past too.

  “I’ll have to see what kind of shape the cabins are in. Thanks for the suggestion. I’m not sure how the crew will feel about bunks, but we might not have a choice.”

  Seth cleared this throat then, and said, “The cabins are in pretty good shape as far as I know. I helped Aames do some repair on some of them not long ago.”

  “I’ll bet your studio would spring for some new sheets and mattresses if they didn’t have to pay for the lodging,” Maureen suggested. Then she tapped her finger to her temple as if she’d come up with a new idea. “Wait. I think Aames has rented out the cabins to groups for a few family reunions and such if I’m not mistaken, hasn’t he? So, at least some of the cabins must be in decent repair.”

  Bailey’s mind was working. Had he mentioned doing that to her? “Maybe. I’m not sure.” New bedding, new mattresses, cleaning, heating, wood for fires. It would be a lot of work. And in the end, it would likely cost almost the same amount. But she would need to check the cabins out first.

  Maureen said, “Give me your contact information and I’ll send over the schedules. I will also send out a lett
er to the planning committee and a town email informing our residents that filming will occur at many of our usual holiday events. They will have opportunities to be part of the fun if they choose. And as you fill me in, I can let them know more about how they might become involved.”

  A town email? That must be quite a distribution.

  Maureen walked Bailey and Seth to the enormous mahogany front door.

  “That sounds wonderful. We’ve found it’s far better to get the local residents involved and excited about the film,” Bailey said. “Thanks again for your help. As soon as I know who will be occupying your rooms, I’ll send you their bios.”

  “It’s my pleasure. And, Bailey dear, while you’re here, I do hope you will spend some time learning more about your beautiful mother. I know you were very young when she passed, but she was a delightful and talented lady, and you are so much like her.”

  Bailey could only nod. Maureen’s words brought to mind her daddy’s suggestion to go through her things in the attic. It wasn’t fair that others knew her mother more than her own daughter did.

  *

  Seth had some paperwork for Bailey to sign, so they stopped by his office after returning from Evangeline House. Bailey was quiet on the drive back, so he didn’t try to make conversation.

  “You okay?” he asked as she put the Jeep in park.

  She was frowning and biting her lip, a habit he well remembered from their childhood. “Huh?” She turned to focus on him as if just realizing he was there. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Thinking about Camp Grandview—about the cabins.”

  They walked into the station through the back door since they’d parked his Jeep in its spot behind the building. “I’ve got the permits from the city on my desk,” Seth said.

  The sooner she signed them the better, so they could put down the protective tarps for the talent trailers and dozens of power cords that would run across the parking area surrounding the square. The additional electricity required to power the lights, sound equipment, and set in general was enormous. There would be on-site generators so as not to knock out the streetlights. Seth had been on top of pulling permits for everything he believed the film crew would need in addition to what Bailey had forwarded from the studio. A town like Ministry had some old laws on the books that required more local politics than most places in the country to make this all run smoothly.