Julie arrived a little after three. She found Jon seated on one side of her mother and Mary Ann seated on the other. Both had their eyes closed. Julie was startled by the quiet of the room. It had the calm, healing energy of a cathedral after mass, or a temple after a service. She found it a little unnerving.
Mary Ann opened her eyes and got up. Jon did the same.
“Is everything alright?” Julie asked, her eyes sliding from Mary Ann to Jon.
“Yes, fine,” Mary Ann said. “She’s been sleeping.”
Jon didn’t speak.
In Jon’s car on the way to the rehearsal, he glanced over at Mary Ann. “What did you do back there?”
Mary Ann’s eyes were closed. She looked tired. “That was special. Mrs. Childs has a very soft and sweet energy.”
“What did you do?” Jon persisted. “I felt it. I felt something.”
Mary Ann opened her eyes and looked over. “If anything happened, it had nothing to do with me. If anything, I just try to get out of the way of the healing energy. It doesn’t always happen, but I felt something very special happen back there.”
Jon kept passing her glances as he drove along quiet suburban streets, past a park where kids were swinging, squealing and building a snowman that was leaning far to the right.
Jon leaned a little, looking at Mary Ann differently. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“A woman. A very special woman. Over a period of about eight years she taught me some techniques and practices. She was a gifted healer, but she didn’t want any publicity. She healed and she always asked her patients to remain silent about her. She wanted to be anonymous.”
“And who is this woman?”
“She was a meditation master I met in Santa Barbara.”
Jon drove on slowly. Theirs was one of only three cars on the road on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Jon slipped on sunglasses when the glare off the snow stabbed his eyes.
“Did you heal Teach?”
“I don’t know, Jon. Like I said, I’m not a miracle worker.”
Jon nodded, staring grimly. “I want her to have her princess-at-the ball moment, Mary Ann.”
“I know, Jon. We all do.”
Mary Ann and Jon found the back door to the Sugar Hill Church basement and entered. They saw Ray at the piano, conducting a 24-person chorus as they belted out It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. The sound reverberated, bounced and echoed off the concrete block walls, giving the impression of a choir twice its size.
Jon found the side room where A Christmas Carol rehearsals were in progress, and Mary Ann searched for her daughters. When she didn’t see them, she texted them. They didn’t text back. She continued down the short hallway, ducking into a Sunday school room, where Trudie and Kristen were seated at a long, low table, on little wooden chairs, working on laptops. On the walls were pictures of Bible stories, along with children’s color-by-number drawings of baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Wise Men.
Both girls glanced up when Mary Ann entered.
“How is she?” Trudie asked.
“Sleeping.” Mary Ann shrugged. “I don’t know. She looked better when we left. Have you told the group she may not be able to come to the show?”
Trudie sat back and stretched. “No. I’m still hoping. At the group meeting at one o’clock, Ray told everyone that two shows are confirmed, and the second show is nearly sold out. The first show will begin at 5:00 and the second at 8:00. Each show will be an hour and forty-five minutes, maybe longer because of Jon’s play.”
“Have you seen Carly and Lynn?” Mary Ann asked.
Trudie stood, working the kinks out of her neck. “I sent them into the play rehearsals. I hope you don’t mind. They’ve been watching my DVDs of Jon’s movies. They are quite taken with him. I didn’t let them see Killers Crossing, though. It’s pretty violent. Carly’s in love with Jon, I think.”
“God help her,” Kristen said.
Mary Ann laughed. “You should see the pictures of him they’ve been sending to their friends. They were all over him at Rusty’s the other night, snapping photos. He was so patient and kind.”
“They wanted to be in the play, so I sent them in,” Trudie said. “Jon will find something for them.”
Kristen lowered her laptop screen. “Liz Tyree is here.”
“Liz Tyree!? The stage manager?”
“Yep,” Kristen said. “She’s marching around like she owns the place, just like she did 20 years ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same. She’s the one who says the show shouldn’t be more that an hour and a half, including Jon’s play.”
Mary Ann sat down in a little wooden chair, and it made her look small. “What did Jon say?”
Trudie grinned. “You know Jon. Jon will do what Jon wants to do. He’ll tell Liz forty-five minutes, and then he’ll make the thing as long as he wants.”
“Have you heard from Oscar?” Mary Ann asked, somewhat guarded.
Trudie spoke up. “Oh, yes, I was going to tell you. He’s coming in this afternoon.”
“We desperately need him to start on the sets,” Kristen said.
“Cole hasn’t shown up yet today,” Trudie said, ignoring Kristen’s look of concern. “Jon said if Cole doesn’t come to rehearsals today, he’s getting someone else to play The Ghost of Christmas Future.”
At that same moment, Don Rawlings stuck his head in. “Hello, ladies. Ray sent me here to talk to you about my Rudolph act.”
Mary Ann spun around. Kristen straightened, and Trudie shot up. “Oh, well, hello, Don! Come in.”
Don stepped in, cradling a saxophone case. He noticed the tired look on Trudie’s face and wondered if she’d been with Jon Ketch the night before. If so, his chances with her were probably over. He struggled to think of something funny to say, wanting to see her face light up as it had in the bar, but he drew a blank.
“I guess I need two dancers who will fit into the two Rudolph suits.”
Mary Ann stood, offering her hand. “I’m Mary Ann.”
Don shook it. “I’m Don Rawlings.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Trudie said. “I forgot you two haven’t met.”
“I saw you in Rusty’s last night,” Don said, “when Jon Ketch made his dramatic appearance.”
“I didn’t know you were there,” Trudie said. “You should have come over.”
“I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Don,” Kristen said, crisply, “sometimes a girl wants you to intrude, don’t they, Trudie?”
Trudie fidgeted with her hair, noticing Don studying her face. “I’ve been thinking about those two reindeer dancers. Kristen and I think Carly and Lynn would be the perfect dancers for Don’s little act. He’ll play Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer on his saxophone and the girls will dance. Do you think they’ll do it?”
“Are you kidding!? They’d love it,” Mary Ann said.
Trudie stepped around the table to Don. “Why don’t we find a side room for you and I’ll find Carly and Lynn and introduce you. Do you have the reindeer outfits?”
“Yes, right outside.”
Rehearsals concluded at 5:30. Afterwards, the excited and energized cast of 41 gathered around the piano and Connie Baker told them that both shows were sold out. There was thunderous applause. She also briefed them on the progress of the scholarship fund.
“Thanks to Don Rawlings, many of the local businesses have contributed generously. Currently, we have over $10,000 in the Myrna Childs’ Scholarship Fund and I’m sure more money will be coming in as others hear about it.”
There was more spirited applause.
Connie continued. “This scholarship will be presented to a Deer Lake High School student who excels in academics. But… the student must also be interested in drama, and either perform in or direct a play during senior year. We’re hoping to raise enough money that we can invest it and use only the interest as the actual scholarship money.”
Ray stepped forward. He said that the local TV station wanted to high
light the show and do some interviews. He looked at Jon, who stood in the back of the room, reading glasses on, writing notes in the margin of his script.
“Jon... they want to interview you, of course.”
Jon lifted a hand, not taking his eyes from the script. “I’ll do it for Teach. I’ll do it for the show. Say, yes, as long as they don’t ask me why my last movie got trashed by the critics.” He shouted. “Because it sucked!”
Everyone laughed.
“Jon,” Ray continued. “I also got a call from Entertainment Tonight. I have no idea how they found out about all this.”
Jon’s head snapped up in alarm. He yanked off his glasses. “What!?”
“I’m saying this in front of everybody, because I want everyone to know what’s going on. We don’t have any secrets here.”
Jon raked a hand through his hair. “This is bullshit, Ray. We don’t want national TV in on this. They’ll turn this town into a zoo and do some stupid-ass bio on Mrs. Childs. They’ll highlight her career, bring up the cancer and make us all out to be saints or something. Meanwhile, Teach will be humiliated. You know that. Don’t even think about letting them come here and do this. Say no.”
The crowd grew quiet, some staring down at their shoes, some staring at Jon, worried.
Ray held up a placating hand. “I did say no, Jon. I feel the same way you do. But will that stop them? If they’ve heard you’re here and why you’re here, won’t other entertainment shows want to do some kind of Christmas special and interview?”
Jon shook his head, fighting irritation. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked up. “Where are The Christmas Women?”
Trudie, Kristen and Mary Ann came forward, standing by Ray.
Jon marched forward, planting his two feet in the center of the room. His voice took on an edge, his blue eyes fierce. “I do not want this show to be about me! I do not want Teach humiliated. If this thing gets out of control, and if I start seeing mobile TV trucks and camera crews rolling down Main Street, then I’m outta here, okay? I don’t like reporters or photographers. They don’t give a damn about anything or anyone except their own silly careers. Now you three are in charge. You are the producers, just like you were 20 years ago. All right, produce! Stop this circus from happening. I don’t care how you stop it, but stop it. Okay!?”
Jon spun around, stormed off to the rear Exit door, jerked it open and left, slamming it behind him, leaving the room in stunned silence.
Trudie looked at Mary Ann and Kristen, and whispered, “Well, that was dramatic.”
As the alumni gathered up their bags, coats and purses, Don spoke up.
“Hey, everybody. If you’ve got nothing to do tonight, I’m inviting everyone over to my place for a casual dinner. Nothing fancy: hamburgers, hotdogs, pizza, poached salmon, salad and lots of Christmas cookies from the local bakery. The party starts at 8 o’clock and all kids are welcome. Christmas garb of some sort is required! Here’s my address.”
Cole Blackwell strolled up to Kristen, whispering. She turned away. Cole kept whispering and, finally, Kristen nodded, a smile forming on her lips.
Trudie wandered over to Don, who was shouldering into his dark blue parka.
“That’s a nice thing to do,” she said.
“I think it will be fun. Are you coming?”
Trudie nodded, looking directly into his eyes. “Yes. Yes, I’m coming.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Oscar Bonds enter the back door and glance about. He was a little stooped, wearing black-rimmed glasses and looking like a middle-aged version of Harry Potter. Oscar saw Mary Ann at about the same time she saw him. They both went rigid, their eyes locked, as memory and anticipation captured them.
Don followed Trudie’s eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Oscar Bonds was valedictorian of our class. He and Mary Ann dated for awhile. I think it was serious... at least Mary Ann thought it was.”
Don zipped up his coat. “I don’t know. I may not go to my twentieth year high school reunion. Something tells me we never really grow up that much. Do we really move on?”
Trudie boldly held his warm eyes, feeling the same invitation she’d felt when she met him that first night at Rusty’s.
“I don’t know,” she said. “On the other hand, I’m ready to move on. I want to move on.”
Don lingered, his probing eyes taking her in. He reached out and touched her cheek.
Trudie shivered a little. A rush of sexual energy rattled her, but she couldn’t pull her eyes from his handsome face.
“I’m glad to hear you want to move on, Trudie,” Don said, intimately. “Moving on is a good thing.”
SIXTEEN
By 9 o’clock, Don’s party was loud with Christmas music, laughter, impromptu dancing and singing. His Christmas punch—a mixture of fresh fruit juices, clove, cinnamon and lots of Rum—had helped all the adults relax right away, and they continued to drink it with cheerful celebration and ease. There were sodas and juice for the kids.
As the guests arrived, they were greeted by Don’s “guards,” Molly and Connie, who ensured they were decked out for the season. Everyone had to be wearing something: a Christmas sweater, a red shirt or a green blouse, a Christmas tree pin, red sneakers or a Santa Claus hat. If they weren’t wearing red or green, they were handed some red ribbon to put around their necks. Once they had passed inspection, they were ushered into the living room, where Don’s two 7-foot trees gave off scent and light; the fireplace blazed; and all the tables and window sills were decorated with votive candles and bright poinsettias.
No one had had trouble finding Don’s sprawling ranch-style house, with all the Christmas lights strung in the trees and under the eves of the house; the enormous wreath lit up on the oak door; and the tall, plastic Santa on the front porch. The house lay at the end of a quiet, tree-lined road, nestled near the base of a cliff. The circular drive was bloated with cars, and more cars were parked around the Dead End sign which sat above an icy stream.
Don was busy in the kitchen, grilling burgers and hot dogs, directing Carly and Lynn to fill dishes and replenish the salad, the salmon and the side dishes.
Trudie made her way around the room, sipping on punch, playing hostess and picking up discarded plastic and paper plates. When she noticed Mary Ann and Oscar hiding in the shadows, she left them alone, although she burned to know what they were discussing so intensely. Meanwhile, Kristen and Cole occupied a busy corner, wrapped in conversation, she animated, he listening with unmistakably affectionate eyes.
Trudie almost resisted being judgmental, but ultimately failed.
She returned to the kitchen, just as Don placed the last two hamburgers on plates and beckoned for her to sit down at the kitchen table. Then he opened the refrigerator and spun around with a bottle of ketchup in his hand. “For us!” he said, holding it over her hamburger like a bottle of wine. They laughed and sat down to eat together.
By 10:30, the party was showing no signs of winding down. They joined the others in the living room for karaoke carol singing. For a time, they sat cross-legged near the fire, listening to old high school stories and new stories about kids and wives.
As she listened, Trudie felt that old creeping anxiety return—that she’d missed out on most of the pleasant and challenging things in life. Once again, the old theme of her life returned: her life was speeding by and she had nothing to show for it. She got up and went to the bathroom to escape.
As she strolled back toward the living room, she noticed a text from Ray. I’m at Rusty’s with Jon. He’s throwing back Jack Daniels. Help! Can you come?
Trudie sighed. She wanted to stay with Don! This was the beginning of their relationship and it seemed to be going well. He was the first man in a very long time that she felt strongly attracted to and comfortable with at the same time. He seemed to feel the same way.
But she knew Jon was a loose cannon. Twenty years had changed nothing in him. Maybe he was even worse. Alw
ays volatile and unpredictable, Jon had to be managed. She’d read enough news articles about him to know this. She couldn’t let him go spiraling out of control.
Cursing Jon, she texted back, I’m on my way.
“There’s a problem about the show,” she told a disappointed Don. “I’m sorry, I have to leave.”
He walked her to the door and helped her into her coat.
“I hope we can have some time alone together when this is all over,” Don said. “I guess until this show is over you’re going to be preoccupied.”
Trudie wanted him to kiss her. And then, to her wonderful surprise, he did, a soft warm kiss that startled her with desire. She wanted more of it, and more of him. She wanted to touch his body, his arms, his legs. She wanted to run her hands through his thick mane of hair and press her chest against his. She longed to explore him, fall into him, lose herself in him. It had been so long, so very long, and she felt her body begin to awaken with passion.
But Don backed away. “Thanks for the help tonight. Careful driving.”
Trudie was too moved to speak. She could only nod, trembling. She turned and left.
As Trudie drove through the night, tears suddenly began to stream down her cheeks. She angrily flicked them away. She didn’t want them. She didn’t know why she was crying, and she didn’t want to think about why she was crying. Okay, she knew why she was crying. She wanted and needed a life change. She was tired of being careful and guarded. Tired of second-guessing every relationship she’d ever had. Tired of always feeling she had to justify her life.
Did Kristen second-guess her relationships? Did Mary Ann? They were both back at the house having a good time. Kristen and Cole would probably sleep together. Maybe Kristen would get a divorce and marry Cole. Well, whoop-dee-doo for them!
Maybe Mary Ann and Oscar would get married. Maybe they’d sleep together tonight or the next night, or any damned night!
By the time Trudie whipped the steering wheel right and drove into Rusty’s crowded parking lot, she was shaking. She found the last parking space, parked and killed the engine.
The Christmas Women Page 14