“No. Let me. I asked you here,” Dallas said.
“Get it next time. It’s fine.” Blake laid down the cash and a generous tip as they got up to leave.
“Dallas,” Blake said. “I have an idea. If you need any help with anything for this play, like sets or costumes maybe, Vivi is a fantastic seamstress and I’m pretty good with the sets, too. I mean, I don’t want to intrude or anything, but I was just thinkin’ out loud. In case there was anything we could do.”
“That would be great.” Dallas swallowed hard at the thought of spending time with Vivi. Blake was one thing—even at their worst, Blake had somehow been a bit above all the pettiness. But Vivi had never liked her. She had never liked Vivi either, but Vivi had a fiery redheaded temper and a mouthful of opinions, and she spoke her mind about everything. She wasn’t sure a happy reunion was in store for them.
“Okay. Just holler when you need us.” And with that, Blake jumped in her new little BMW and peeled out of the lot.
Dallas felt as if she was caught in an alternate universe, but the truth was she liked this new planet a little better. She decided she would try to get the kids at the theater to like her. Maybe then they would do a little better—and make her look like a better director. After the screw-up on live TV the night before, she would take any good PR she could get. Who knew? Directing might be a good back-up career.
12
Dallas was just pulling into the lot at WTAL when Daniel came running out.
“Don’t go in. Get in the news van,” Daniel said as he headed to the van with the camera.
Great, she thought. I was so bad that Mike doesn’t even want to see me. “What’s up?” she asked, shutting her car door and jumping into the van.
“Miss Peaches Shelby got some more pictures of her Baby Jesus statue in the mail today, and Mike wants you to do another story. He told me to call you and let you know, but here you are.” Daniel was smiling. “And he never even said a word about last night. Maybe he’s just gonna drop it.”
“Oh, I wish.” Dallas clicked her seat belt as Daniel left the parking lot. You’d think the pope had just arrived, the way he sped to Peaches’s house.
He ripped into her driveway, Miss Peaches coming out the front door as she heard them, her hand full of pictures.
“Ms. Shelby, thanks so much for calling,” Dallas said as she approached her. “I hear you got some news in the mail today.”
“Thank y’all for comin’ back out. I wanna get this solved and my Baby Jesus found and back in his manger. Here are the pictures I got today.” She handed the pictures to Dallas.
Peaches was a small woman, thin, with soft, white hair. She had been the librarian at the high school before she’d retired last year. Dallas had always liked her. She was sweet, always wearing her pearl necklace and little pearl earrings, too. Ms. Peaches was eager for Dallas to see the new batch of pictures.
“Here’s the one they took at the president’s mansion on campus, and here’s one from the stadium. I swear they got my statue on the grand tour of the entire University of Alabama.”
“Did they send a note? Any clues other than the pictures?” Dallas asked.
“Just this note, but I can’t make anything of it,” she said, handing the piece of paper to Dallas.
Don’t miss the next installment of “Where in the World Is Baby Jesus!” Alabama has certainly been blessed.
“I think it could be a clue,” Dallas said, handing the note and the photos back to Peaches. “I think the police should see it.” A missing nativity statue wasn’t exactly a high-priority crime, but if she could get this case police attention, she could make it a bigger news story.
“You know what, Ms. Dubois? I think you may be right.”
Dallas smiled at her. “Be sure to let the police know. And keep me posted, too. We’ll find your statue. I know it. We’ll do a big story on it, too. Your manger scene will be famous.”
“I sure do hope so. My Greg gave me that manger scene before he passed away three Christmases ago. He was so proud of it. He always wanted a big manger scene for the yard and he finally got it.” She paused and looked at Dallas. “It’s important to me—even if it is just plastic.”
Dallas did her stand-up for the camera and then said goodbye to Peaches, jumping into the van with Daniel.
“I gotta hurry and voice this story. I have rehearsal in just a few,” she said as she closed her door.
“No problemo,” Daniel said. “Have you talked to Mike at all today?”
“Nope, and it will be just fine with me if I don’t.”
“Come on, you’re not still worried about last night, are you?”
“Of course I am,” she said seriously. “But it’s too late to change it now. I just hope I’ll still have a job in two weeks.”
“I promise you it was no big deal. Let’s go back and watch the tape from last night. I’ll show you it didn’t look half as bad as you think.”
“No, thanks, I’ll pass. I’m not sure I can bear it.”
“Have it your way,” he said.
Back at the station, Dallas and Daniel were sitting in the edit bay working on the story when Mike popped in.
“Dallas, can I see you in my office?”
13
Mike Maddox wasn’t one to mince words. He was short and round, with a full head of graying hair. He always wore his bright, colorful dress shirts tucked in tight and his ties a tad too short. He was matter-of-fact and didn’t usually play games. So Dallas was worried when he asked to see her. She knew that her performance at Dixie Dickens had not been anywhere near on par for her. Yes, she had been having a strange time of things lately, but she still knew she was a damn good reporter. That fact was never in question.
Being part of television news was all Dallas could ever remember wanting to do. It had been her dream since she was a teenager. Yes, okay, she loved the limelight. That’s what had drawn her to cheerleading from the time she was in middle school. And, Lord, every beauty pageant under the sun had pulled her in like ants to a picnic.
But she had a knack for digging up a story like few others, and her real talent was live television—usually. She knew in her heart she was the best choice for that anchor seat, and even if she had screwed it up a little last night, she wasn’t going down without a fight. That was just her nature. Mike once told her he’d hired her because she had tenacity to spare. She could get down, as she had been the last week, but she never stayed there for long.
Maybe a preemptive strike would be best when dealing with Mike.
“Have a seat, Dallas.”
“Mike, I apologize for last night, I know it wasn’t my best,” she blurted out before her butt even hit the chair.
“What?” He looked at her with his brows clenched.
“That stand-up last night was ridiculous. I mean, those bagpipers were so loud, the kinfolk in Scotland could hear ’em.” She laughed a nervous laugh.
“Dallas, that’s not why I called you in here.”
“Oh, okay. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that the announcement for the anchor replacement has been moved up. Jill McIntyre is leaving us sooner than we thought.”
“Oh, so...when will it be?”
“December twenty-third. Jill needs to be out before Christmas, so I’ve brought each reporter in today to let them know personally that while I was hoping we could get everyone through the holidays without any job losses, we won’t be able to do it.”
“So, two of us will lose our jobs right before Christmas,” Dallas said, just to verify the awful news she was hearing.
“Yes, I’m really sorry. It’s going to be a tough decision. All of y’all are very good at what you do.”
Dallas swallowed and tried to digest this information. “
Okay, well, I’d really like another live shot. At least one before you make your decision, if I can get it,” she said.
“I know. Everyone would. I’ll do what I can to give everybody a fair shot. Now, get back to work. I know you have that play to do.”
Dallas forced a grin and stood up, smoothing down her pants. She shook Mike’s hand and left his office. Yes, she did have the play on her very full plate. How could she handle the kids this afternoon after getting news like that? She felt miserable again, not exactly the best mood to try the “friendly” technique she’d been planning on.
Dallas popped by her desk on the way to the edit bay to check her email. At the top of the list was an email from Callahan Enterprises. They were a pretty big deal in town, though all Dallas knew of them was that they were the supplier of the food at the Alabama home football games. She clicked on the message.
Ms. Dubois,
It has come to our attention that you have been covering the story of the missing baby Jesus decoration. We want you to know that we have gained information and believe we know who is responsible. Please do not phone us here. This is a private message and if anyone here finds out I have written you it could jeopardize my job. Please await further instructions.
Thank you,
Deep Throat
Dallas was skeptical. A source about a small-time prank? From a company as big as Callahan Enterprises? She wanted to keep getting messages, though, so she decided to play along and just see what these clowns had to say. Maybe someone had hacked Callahan Enterprises and was playing a joke. She decided she would only tell Daniel for the moment.
Back in the edit bay, she and Daniel went back to work on the missing Baby Jesus story.
“I have no idea who it’s really from. I think at this point I’m gonna wait and see,” she said after telling him about the note.
“Good idea. You know, this could be a story in itself,” Daniel said. “Let’s just see what they say next.”
“The only thing is, if Callahan Enterprises has been hacked, we should probably let them know.”
“Well, you know Cal Hollingsworth is a computer genius. He could get to the bottom of—”
“No way,” Dallas interrupted him. “I don’t want him over here digging in my email. I’ll wait and see if I get another message for now.”
Daniel smiled and went back to work on the story for the six o’clock news. Dallas went over the script she had written, and they got ready to lay the voice track down, but she was still in competition mode after that meeting with Mike, and her wheels were spinning. She was feeling ambitious and ready to compete. No more whining, she told herself.
“Daniel, why don’t we expand this story?”
“What do you mean ‘expand?’”
“I want to take this story to the citizens of Tuscaloosa. I think we need to hear what they think about someone stealing a Baby Jesus decoration right here in our town during Christmas. I want to get the community element—you know, a town banding together and all that. I’ll talk to Mike and try to make this happen for tomorrow.”
“I love it,” he agreed. “Now, let’s lay down your voice tracks for this story and get you to rehearsal.”
14
Dallas arrived at the Bama Theatre right on time. With less than two weeks before opening night, she knew there was no time to waste. In a cruel twist of fate, the day of the Christmas play would be the same day Dallas would be finding out about the anchor position. Well, it would most definitely be an event for the record books. But Dallas figured that if she could just make it to Christmas, she’d be able to conquer anything in the future. The struggles she was facing were just more in a long line of battles she’d had to overcome. And she was ready.
She pulled into a back lot near the theater this time and went in through the stage doors. Choir practice was just ending, and Betty Ann had let the children go for a quick bathroom break. The doors slammed behind Dallas when she walked in.
Betty Ann looked up. “Oh, Dallas, it’s you. That scared the daylights outta me.”
“Oh, sorry about that,” she apologized. “Those doors are so heavy.”
“That parade yesterday was something, huh? What did you think of our kids?”
“I...yes, I loved the parade,” Dallas said, putting on her best smile.
“Those kids just loved it. For some of these precious little things, singing in that parade and this play will be the highlight of their Christmas. Those poor children living in the home—well, they just don’t have anybody to love ’em on Christmas mornin’ the way the rest of us do.”
Dallas thought for a second. She took in a deep breath. She knew how that felt. Daniel had asked her several weeks ago to come spend Christmas with him and his family, his mom and two brothers, but Dallas hadn’t confirmed. It was such an intimate family holiday, and while she liked Daniel more and more each day, she still didn’t think they were close enough for her to intrude on his private life.
“I know it, Betty Ann. That must be so hard for them.”
“So, yes, they were singing to beat the band last night. And isn’t that little Tristan just precious, with those big blue eyes? I’m happy he still has his mom and dad.”
“But what about Sara Grace Griffin? I remember her name ’cause she was the first to let me know just where I stood with her.”
“Yeah, she is definitely outspoken,” Betty Ann said with a laugh. “She’s one of the kids in foster care. This will be her first Christmas in the system, actually. Her mom died quite unexpectedly last winter and she never knew her dad. There was no one else to take responsibility—no family or friends. They moved around a lot, I gather, and hadn’t really put down roots.”
Dallas had always lived in Tuscaloosa, but she knew what it was like to not feel connected to anyone, to never really belong. “Well, I’m trying to learn everyone’s names. I think I know all of two so far,” Dallas said, embarrassed. “I’ll keep working on it. I hope they can learn to trust me a little.”
“Oh, honey, they just wanna be loved. Every single one of ’em. Kids are easy if you know that secret.”
Just then, the kids burst through the big doors from the bathroom area and started jumping around and hollering on the stage.
“Children, settle down now, Ms. Dubois is here for rehearsal. Those of you who have solos will be singing today with your music from the speakers. I am not going to play the piano for you anymore. Mr. Cal will be giving you the signal from the booth.”
Dallas looked up and there he was. He waved to the children when Betty Ann mentioned his name. Dallas turned to the children.
“Okay, y’all,” she began, clapping her hands together and trying to seem as warm and approachable as she could. “I have an idea. First, why don’t y’all call me Ms. Dallas instead of Ms. Dubois? You know like how you say Miss Betty Ann’s name? Or Mr. Cal’s name?”
“I like that,” Sara Grace piped up from the group.
“Great, then we have a deal. Now, let’s take our places, everyone. We’re gonna start from the top.”
All the kids got right into their spots, from the old toyshop to the big gingerbread house. As they began to run through their lines, Dallas was impressed at how well everything was going. There was a glitch here and there, but nothing too much for Dallas to handle. And the kids seemed to be really responding to her new attitude. She was thankful children didn’t seem to hold grudges, that they were quick to forgive.
Sleigh Bells was all about one little town in Dickens-era America celebrating Christmas. In the end, a manger scene would be revealed to the audience with real live animals up on the stage. It was only one lamb and one donkey, but that was enough to fill the children with anticipation.
Just before intermission, Sara Grace had a solo. She would be singing the song that had been haunting Dall
as so much this year. The first few notes of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” began, and Sara Grace stepped forward to center stage. She had her microphone in place, clipped to her little red dress. She looked up at Cal, and he nodded for her to begin.
Dallas stood in the wings watching this pretty little blonde girl sing softly, her eyes big and round. She looked a little scared. Dallas found herself pulling for her, crossing her fingers that her performance would go smoothly, even if it were just a rehearsal.
As she began to sing, her lovely little voice carried beautifully across the theater.
“...and presents on the tree...” she sang.
Then she missed a word. She cleared her throat as the music kept going. Then she missed a phrase. Her face reddened and she was clenching her hands nervously. Dallas could see it was too much for her. She stood there, alone, center-stage, visibly beginning to tremble as the music continued from the speakers. Then a sob choked from her throat, and she began crying in place on the stage.
Dallas couldn’t take it. She knew exactly how Sara Grace felt.
She and Betty Ann moved toward her, but when they made eye contact, Betty Ann stepped back. Dallas wanted to be the one to comfort the child, and Betty Ann must have sensed that because she gave her an encouraging smile.
Dallas walked onstage from the wings, motioning to Cal to cut the music as she walked toward Sara Grace.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dallas said softly.
The little girl continued to sob, sitting on the floor now with her head in her hands.
Dallas removed her high heels and sat on the bare wooden stage next to Sara Grace, reaching over and pulling the tiny child into her lap. She rocked her back and forth, and continued to console her, caressing her blond hair.
“Sara Grace, it’s okay, baby. You sing so pretty. I wish I had a voice like yours.”
Sara Grace looked up at her and gave a shy smile.
Sleigh Belles Page 8