by Lee Hollis
“Who are you supposed to be, Wilbur?” Hayley asked as she and Mona crossed over to him.
“The crusty innkeeper who refuses to give Joseph and Mary a room. It’s just one line, but I kept flubbing it in rehearsal. I’m scared of doing it during the performance.”
“You’ll be fine. Just save some of the Jesus juice for Sunday’s Communion,” Mona said, shaking her head.
“Mom!”
Gemma scooted over to them in full Virgin Mary mode, a baby blue robe flowing behind her as she moved, showing enough leg for them to admire her fetching Adult Goddess sandals. The Deluxe Mocha Brown Divine Wig, which Hayley found at Target, completed the startling transformation. Cradled in her arm was a Baby Jesus plush doll.
“Gemma, honey, you look fantastic!”
“Lot of good that’s going to do me if I have no one to act with!” she wailed.
“What do you mean?”
“Hugo poked his head out to see if his cousin Dana made it down from Brunswick. He took one look at the packed house and has been in a catatonic state ever since!”
“I’m sure once he’s out on stage, he’ll be fine.”
“He threw up on a kid in a camel costume. We had to cut the part from the play because we couldn’t get it dry-cleaned in time.”
They all glanced over at Hugo, who was still slouched in the chair, silent and motionless as Edie babbled on in his ear about something.
“Oh, this is going to be a disaster,” Mona said.
Gemma’s face fell.
“Mona, you’re not helping!” Hayley said before grabbing Gemma by the shoulders. “He likes you, Gemma. You need to keep him calm and tell him everything’s going to be all right, and that you two are in this together. If he forgets a line, you’ll step in and help him.”
Gemma nodded. “You’re right.”
They wandered over to the makeup table and Gemma knelt down, took his hand, and whispered words of encouragement to Hugo. His face relaxed slightly at her mere presence.
“Hayley, Mona, I’m so glad you both could make it to my little production,” Edie said, grinning from ear to ear, before realizing what she had said. “Our production. I mean our little production. Opening night! Isn’t it exciting?”
“I thought this was a onetime performance,” Hayley said.
“Oh, it is,” Edie said, adjusting the wig on Hugo’s head as he squeezed Gemma’s hand for support.
“Well, you know what they say about shows that open and close on the same night,” Mona said, chortling.
Edie Staples gave them both a withering stare.
Hayley dug her heel into Mona’s shoe as a warning to clam up.
“I’m going to go get Wilbur to share some of his Jesus juice,” Mona said, wandering away to the refreshment table.
“It’s Pinot Noir, Mona!” Edie said sharply before turning back to Hayley. “Hayley, knowing you, I’m sure you’re right on top of this whole sad Garth Rawlings business.”
Hayley eyed Hugo, who visibly tensed. “It’s just one big, puzzling mystery.”
“I should say so!” Edie exclaimed. “I read that the police are saying he was murdered, but they’re stumped as to how it happened.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Well, if it is murder, I will bet our time-share in Boca Raton that it was that sleazy Ken Massey! Once when the Reverend and I stopped for clam rolls at the Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound, I saw him and Garth fighting like a couple of barnyard dogs.”
Hayley glimpsed over to see Hugo watching her through the mirror in front of him. When they made eye contact, he immediately turned his attention back to Edie, who hadn’t noticed he wasn’t listening to her.
“Well, there’s no denying Garth Rawlings and Ken Massey had a somewhat rocky past, and Ken does have a reputation for being a grade-A jerk,” Hayley said. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean he is a killer. Isn’t that right, Hugo?”
Hugo let go of Gemma’s hand and shifted in his chair uncomfortably.
“I don’t know,” he muttered.
“How could the poor boy know anything, Hayley?” Edie said, chuckling. “He barely knows where he is right now.”
“Well, Hugo has made it clear to me that he believes Ken Massey is an innocent man and shouldn’t be the subject of such wild accusations.”
“I didn’t say that. Like I said, I don’t know anything.”
“Mom . . . ,” Gemma said, clenching her teeth, her eyes pleading with her mother to stop.
Hayley chose to bow to her daughter’s wishes.
She could talk to Hugo after the show.
But Edie Staples was not so inclined.
She loved juicy gossip and dubious speculation.
Even moments before the curtains rose on her long-awaited Nativity play.
“Is that true, Hugo?” Edie asked, suddenly intrigued. “Do you think someone else killed Garth Rawlings?”
Hugo’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for some escape from this distressing conversation. “Would you please just leave me out of this? How should I know who shot him?”
Shot him?
Hayley opened her mouth to speak, but Edie beat her to it.
“The coroner never said a word about Garth Rawlings being shot, Hugo. At least not in the papers. Where are you getting that information from?”
Hugo stood up, panicked. His hands were shaking.
“Places, everyone!” Reverend Staples bellowed as he finished gathering the adorable sheep in a flock around the shepherds and cued the choir. The choir members, their hymnals held up in front of them, filed out of the parlor, one by one, and into the church, singing.
“‘O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. . . .’”
Hayley and Edie kept their eyes glued on Hugo.
Gemma gently placed a hand on Hugo’s arm. “Can we please discuss this after the show?”
And then Hugo had a full-on freak-out.
He shook off Gemma’s hand and bolted out the parlor side door and into the night, leaving Reverend and Mrs. Staples without their leading man.
Joseph had left the building.
Chapter 28
The choir was on its last refrain of “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Once they took their seats, that would be the cue for Gemma and Hugo to take to the stage for the opening scene of the young couple in search of shelter for the night. Gemma had already stuffed a pillow up her robe to create the illusion of Mary’s pregnancy.
Reverend Staples rushed up to his wife, Edie, and hissed, “Where in God’s name is Hugo?”
“He left,” Edie said, with a dazed look on her face.
“What? Why?”
“We were just talking . . . and . . . and . . .” The minister’s wife’s voice trailed off.
Out in the church they heard the choir finish singing, followed by feet clomping, indicating the choir members were now walking to their seats.
Edie clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Reverend Staples asked.
“Praying to the good Lord for a fast miracle.”
“We don’t have time for that! We need a Joseph right now!” Reverend Staples cried.
“I’ll do it. I’ll fill in for Hugo. I’ll play Joseph,” Hayley found herself saying, desperate to find a quick solution.
“That’s preposterous,” Reverend Staples said, scowling. “You look nothing like a boy!”
“Well, I’m the only one here not already cast in the play, so I don’t see how much of a choice we have,” Hayley said, picking up a bushy wig and beard attachment.
Mona ambled over from the refreshment table, feeling no pain after sharing the bottle of red wine with the fidgety and nervous Wilbur White, who was playing the innkeeper.
“What’s the holdup? Let’s get this show on the road!”
There was an awkward silence out in the church as the audience patiently waited for the play to start.
“Mona,” Edie
whispered. “Mona looks like a man.”
“I beg your pardon,” Mona said, a little too tipsy to be offended.
Hayley threw the wig on Mona and pasted the beard on her face.
“Gemma, go out there and stall for time until we find Mona a costume!” Edie said, pushing her out the parlor door into the main church, where Gemma crossed in front of the first row of pews. Gingerly ascending the stairs, she tripped on the hem of her baby blue Virgin Mary robe, falling flat on her face. Just like Jennifer Lawrence at the Oscars.
The audience gasped.
Her uncle Randy bolted from his aisle seat and helped her stand back up.
Steadying herself, she made it up on the stage, which was decorated as a village and manger.
Polite applause met Gemma as she finally found the center-stage spotlight. Most people were just relieved the show was finally under way. Hayley could hear whoops and hollers from Gemma’s wildly supportive uncles Randy and Sergio.
Reverend Staples shook his head until he was dizzy. “This is never going to work. This is never going to work.”
“He’s right,” Mona said. “I don’t know any of the lines. I don’t even know what the play is about.”
“It’s the story of Christ’s Birth,” Hayley said.
“So who am I supposed to be? Moses?”
“Oh, dear God, we’re doomed!” Edie wailed in despair.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just came here tonight to cheer Gemma on,” Mona said. “I don’t know anything about the Bible. The few times my parents made me go to church, I skipped Sunday school and went to the Rexall drugstore for a root beer float with some of the money the church gave us kids for staying quiet during the service.”
“We don’t pay children not to talk during church!” Reverend Staples said huffily.
“Well, my place of worship did. They had this big gold tin and it was overflowing with fives and twenties.”
“That was the collection plate, Mona!” Hayley said. “You took the donations to the church!”
Hayley heard Gemma’s voice calling from out on the stage. “Who will give my husband, Joseph, and me lodging in our time of need?”
Hayley snatched a white robe and hurled it at Mona. “I can tell she’s dying out there! Here! Put this on and get out there and save my daughter from further humiliation.”
“But I told you I have no idea what to say—”
“You can wing it! Just follow Gemma’s lead,” Hayley whispered frantically.
They could hear Gemma doing an admirable job keeping things moving until Joseph arrived. Feeling the baby kick. Pontificating on what name she would call her baby before finally settling on Jesus if it was a boy. And Caitlin if it was a girl. Wondering what could have happened to her husband.
Finally Mona trudged out the parlor door into the church, adjusting her beard. There were a few titters, but nobody recognized her right away.
Hayley closed the door just enough so she could still see what was happening on the stage.
“Joseph, I’ve been so worried. Where have you been?” Gemma improvised.
“Drinks Like A Fish,” Mona said. “It was happy hour.”
The audience roared with laughter.
At that point they all realized who was playing the part of Joseph and broke into more applause.
Mona, not a trained actress by any stretch of the imagination, turned and smiled and waved at the crowd.
A ham was born.
Gemma plowed on like a pro. “Why don’t you knock on the door and see if the innkeeper has a room for us to stay tonight.”
Mona looked around, dumbfounded. “What door? I don’t see a door.”
“Just pretend there’s one there,” Gemma whispered.
Mona then stomped her foot three times as she made a knocking motion with her hand.
“Damn! I forgot my cue!” Wilbur cried as he blew past Hayley, pushing her to the side, where she nearly bashed her head on the door frame.
Wilbur clomped up on stage. “Go away! I have no vacancies!”
“Of course you do! It’s off-season!” Mona argued. “What do you think this is, Fourth of July weekend in Bar Harbor?”
More raucous laughter from the audience.
At the very least, Mona was personalizing the story for the locals.
Hayley wheeled around to see Revered Staples with a shell-shocked expression on his face and his wife, Edie, on the verge of tears as they watched the impromptu comedy act now unfolding on stage after weeks of hard work mounting their production.
Gemma and Mona muddled through the scene and then continued on in search of a manger to stay the night before it was mercifully time for the Three Wise Men to take to the stage to do a humorous bit about how two of them weren’t so wise. It was a series of dumb jokes that couldn’t be found in the Bible; it just afforded the auteur Edie the chance to add a little comic relief to her script, having no idea Mona would be providing most of the night’s biggest laughs. The Three Wise Men weren’t exactly the Three Amigos; most of their lines fell flat and even elicited a few groans. Edie Staples was no Tina Fey when it came to sharp and funny scriptwriting. It was obvious the audience was itching for Mona to come back.
Gemma charged into the parlor, where Hayley was waiting. “Mom, how could you do that? How could you scare Hugo off?”
“To be fair, I was willing to let it go, but it was Edie, who—”
“You started it!”
“You’re absolutely right. I am so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Come on! It was meant to be!” Mona said, proudly scratching her beard as she followed Gemma into the parlor. “I’m a friggin’ star! I’m killing it out there!”
Gemma was not amused.
“You don’t believe me? Look!” Mona said, handing Gemma her phone. “Your own brother, Dustin, just tweeted this.”
Gemma read it, sighed with an eye roll, and handed the phone to Hayley: Mona steals show #laughingmyassoff
“Not helping, Mona,” Hayley said, tossing the phone back to her.
“Mom, why won’t you leave Hugo alone?”
“Because I’m convinced he knows something he’s not telling and it’s eating him up inside and I know he would feel a lot better if he just told someone the truth.”
“Then go talk to him after the show.”
“I have no idea where to find him.”
“Well, I do,” Gemma said, bending over to stuff the pillow, which had made its way down to her ankles, back up her robe. “And I’ll tell you if I don’t die of embarrassment first from this train wreck of a pageant!”
With a deep breath Gemma marched back out on stage.
“What the hell is she talking about? We’re a hit! We could take this show on the road!” Mona said, beaming, as she followed her out.
Chapter 29
Hayley used her iPhone as a flashlight as she approached the grand nineteenth-century weathered bay-front mansion, which was boarded up for the winter. The dirt road down to the main house was frozen solid, so she had to be careful not to slip and fall and crack her head wide open on the sheet of ice.
She heard a noise in the brush and stopped suddenly, aiming her illuminated phone to where the sound emerged. She spotted a wide-eyed coyote, who was just as surprised as she was, foraging for food there. They stared numbly at one another for a few seconds before the coyote thought it best to dash off into the woods to avoid any further contact.
Hayley continued toward the side porch, which wrapped around the mansion, and made her way up the creaky steps and to the screen door, which kept banging from the bitter-cold winter wind. She swung it open and found the heavy back door behind it unlocked.
She heard someone coming up the steps behind her and spun around just as the light on her iPhone went out, plunging her into darkness. She could barely make out the shadowy figure advancing.
He looked as if he was wearing some kind of mask and was carrying something in his hands.
&n
bsp; Was it a weapon?
An axe?
A baseball bat?
“Stay back!” Hayley yelled, pressing the button on the bottom of her phone so the light flashed back on.
The stranger froze just a few feet from her.
She pointed the phone at him.
Standing before her was Hugo.
He wasn’t wearing a mask.
The hood of his heavy winter coat was just pulled up over his head to warm his ears.
And he wasn’t gripping a weapon.
It was a pizza box.
He squinted his eyes in the harsh light.
“Mrs. Powell? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Gemma said you might be here.”
The mansion belonged to a filthy rich family from Chicago; they owned a company with a best-selling line of bacon products. The property was mostly frequented in the summer months by the founder’s granddaughter, who was rather snooty. The locals referred to her behind her back as the “Pig Princess.” Upon her departure in mid-September, she had hired Hugo’s father to check up on the place occasionally during the winter months to make sure the pipes didn’t freeze from the cold weather. It was a cushy gig for any local and Hugo’s pop was paid handsomely.
As they got to know one another, Hugo told Gemma that he would borrow his father’s key from time to time and hang out at the mansion when he needed an escape from his life or a place to think. It was remote and quiet, and Gemma got the feeling that Hugo preferred spending time alone rather than socializing with other people. His worried mother had insisted he audition for the Nativity pageant because she wanted him to make more friends.
Hugo brushed past Hayley. “My pizza’s getting cold.”
“Hugo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you right before you went out on stage tonight,” Hayley said, starting to follow him before he slammed the screen door in her face. “Please, can I just come in and talk to you for a minute?”