They were silent for a moment, then she said, “And how do you feel about that?”
It took him a moment to respond. When he did, his words were not sure, but rather careful. “I guess, in the end, how I feel is going to depend on what he says. If he wants to unload on me more, I mean that’s shitty, but I can’t say I don’t deserve it.”
Abby looked straight ahead as she added the next words. Her shoulders were upright and a little stiff, and when she spoke, it seemed to him as if she were choosing every single word very, very carefully. “And if he isn’t still upset with you? If he actually wants you back in the band… And, back in your old life? What then?”
He breathed out, all of the tension in his body relaxing as she put into words what his biggest fear was. What if he was faced with a choice? What if he was offered the chance to go back to his old life of pain and music? Of being adored and idolized? What if that meant giving up all that he’d gained here in Valentine Bay?
Would he have the strength to turn it down?
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. In fact, there’s only one thing I’m pretty sure of right now.”
She turned her face up to his. “And what’s that?”
“That we better get our butts back inside or we risk getting moved down to the C list. And we all know how fucking hard it is to work your way back from that.”
As the sound of Abby’s laughter rang in his ears and sent a warmth through him that he never felt with anyone but her, he started to think that maybe it wouldn’t be such a tough question after all.
Chapter 22
Jet
“It’s a whole different experience swinging a hammer, eh, bro? Not exactly that rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle you’re used to.”
Jet lifted his head at his brother’s words. Troy, being a contractor, had volunteered his services to build the set for the annual Living Nativity scene that was due to be unveiled that evening. Being Jet’s brother, he’d volunteered Jet’s services, as well.
He’d gone along with no argument. He didn’t mind the work. In fact, he kind of liked giving back to the community and getting into the Christmas activities.
What he didn’t love, however, was the constant ribbing from Troy and all the guys on the crew about how soft he probably was.
Jet gave Troy’s shoulder a friendly punch. “What is it with everyone using the phrase ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ to describe something being decadent or edgy? That phrase is so old. It’s the furthest thing from edgy.”
“You calling me old?” Troy joked good-naturedly.
“Hey. If the hammer fits, nail it. Or whatever the construction version of that saying would be.”
With that, Jet went back to nailing planks in place to form the frame of the manger, to the soundtrack of laughter from Troy and some of the other guys.
He liked this camaraderie. It reminded him of the earliest days of Valentine, when the band had been traveling around from gig to gig in nothing but an old Econoline van that had to house all five of them and their gear.
Before egos had gotten in the way. Fuck, dude, be honest, he admonished himself. Before your damn psychological downward spiral got in the way.
He wished he had it all to do over again. He’d do so many things differently. He could trace the timeline of how everything fell apart, in the band and in his life.
Although he wouldn’t take one hundred percent of the responsibility for the destruction of his band, now that he was taking a brutally honest internal inventory, he could see that he should take more than ninety.
Every single turning point – every single fucking one – could be traced back to a shitty decision he’d made. In most cases, a string of shitty decisions.
He hammered the last nail into the frame and stood back to admire his handiwork. Deep satisfaction filled him. There was something innately satisfying about building something with his own two hands, building it from scratch, and having it stand tall and strong in front of him.
And he saw the metaphor, too. For this frame to stand up and stand strong, each board needed to be strong. Each nail had to be firmly driven into place. No shortcuts. Cutting corners was what made it all fall apart.
He’d popped his head into his little sister’s room to say goodnight a few evenings ago, and saw that she had a small postcard taped to the corner of her mirror. In a modern typography design that incorporated alternating block letter and brush stroke fonts, it said, “There are NO shortcuts. Success and satisfaction come from doing the work.”
Shit. His thirteen–year-old sister had life more figured out than he did.
Troy stepped over and stood next to him, surveying the frame. He clapped his hand on Jet’s shoulder. “Good work, man. Now come help me with the overhang.”
As Jet worked with Troy on hammering boards into place on the shelter that the holy family and animals would stand under, he thought he’d take a shot on grabbing some brotherly advice. He and Troy seemed to be in a pretty okay place at the moment, so what did he have to lose?
“Hey, Troy,” he said, making it sound casual. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them moved their eyes from the task they were working on, which Jet liked. It made the conversation easier. He continued, “So, Rome…you know, from my band…he wants to get coffee next week while he’s in town.”
Troy nodded. Jet waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, he asked, “What do you think?”
Troy glanced over at him. “About getting coffee?”
Jet laughed. “No. I already agreed to get the coffee. I meant, what do you think about the band getting back in touch?”
Troy continued working for a moment, then said, “Do you know what it’s about?”
“He didn’t say.”
Troy heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know, Jet. I hate to be a killjoy, but I don’t love it.”
“Yeah.”
“Since you’ve been back, you’ve been different. Looking at all the external factors, this should be a low point for you. One of the shittiest times of your life—”
“okay, now—” Jet interjected, but Troy steamrolled over him to finish the thought.
“—but, instead, you’ve come alive,”
Jet nodded. He’d noticed the same paradox, obviously.
Troy continued, “I can understand the pull of your old life. I mean, hell, of course I can. I left a pro baseball career to come back here. I know more than anyone what it means to suddenly be yanked away from fame, and fortune, and being part of a team. I know what it feels like to miss that.”
“Yeah,” Jet agreed, and he was shocked to hear the hoarseness in his voice when he spoke.
“But it’s not everything, bro. It’s not even close. So, even if they do want you back, think real hard about what it would mean. What are you willing to give up to get the cheering crowd back in your life?”
Jet hammered methodically for a few more moments. “I’m honestly more afraid of how I’ll react if they don’t want me back.”
Troy nodded. “I get why you say that. But I’m not. You’ll get over that. I’ve seen that since you’ve been here. You’re made to forge your own path.”
“Like a solo career?”
Troy laughed, “Dude, I don’t know. I doubt you do, either. But what I do know is this – you’ve been given a gift since you’ve been home. Clarity. Real, true, honest to God clarity. To toss that aside like it means nothing would be a real waste.”
Jet gave a small chuckle. “When you said, I’d been given a gift, I thought maybe you were talking about Abby. Most everyone else seems to be.”
Troy gave him a friendly nudge. “Hell, man. If you need me to tell you that she’s a gift, and how much that’s worth, then you’re beyond being helped by any advice I could give you.”
Chapter 23
Abby
Abby pulled her coat tighter around her to ward off the damp chill of the evening. Only a little past five and it already seemed as
dark as midnight. Still, the twinkle lights and Christmas displays that were up all over town created a magical warmth that no foggy cold could penetrate.
“Hey, Abs! Over here!”
She looked around, searching for the source of the voice, and saw Ella and Gen standing at the far end of the town square, just to the side of the newly-constructed living nativity set.
She hurried over to the girls, surveying the wooden structures. “Dang,” she said. “I knew the guys were coming out here to put this up today. They did a great job. I can’t believe it went up so fast!”
“Well, the set is the least of everyone’s worries,” Gen said conspiratorially.
“Whoa. That sounds ominous. What’s going on?”
“Pastor Hargrove and his wife came down with a nasty flu bug,” Ella said.
Abby didn’t quite know how to respond to that. “Um. Wow. That sucks. Why is everyone worried about that, though?”
“They were supposed to be the Mary and Joseph,” Gen replied.
“Oh. Well, that doesn’t seem so complicated. I mean it’s not like there are lines to memorize or anything, right? You just stand there. It seems like anyone could fill in.”
“Yeah, that’s true. And there’s a schedule of volunteers who will be playing all the parts each night until Christmas. If it were any other night, yeah, they could just call in a substitute. But this is the opening night. It was supposed to be special.”
“Ah,” Abby said. “And how did you two get filled in on all this drama?”
“The coordinator’s been buzzing around for the past twenty minutes,” Gen said. “Troy and Jet just took her into the community center to make some calls. Troy had the key because he’s doing some updating on the kitchen.”
“In fact,” Ella said, her face brightening, “Why don’t we go in and join them? It’s freezing out here.”
“Yes!” Gen agreed immediately. In fact, she’d shouted the word before Ella had even finished spitting out the “freezing out here” justification.
Abby laughed. “Okay, well, yeah. Let’s go. And I think this might officially be the most excited anyone has ever been to walk through the doors of the community center.”
Gen shook her head. “Girl, you weren’t here for the Toddlers and Tiaras-style kiddie beauty pageant I had to do the event planning on a few years ago. We held the registration at the community center. And those moms were, let me tell ya, psyched to get their little rugrats signed onto that mess.”
Abby laughed, the sound mixing with Ella and Gen’s laughter, and she felt warm inside. She was so lucky, she realized. Gratitude washed over her in a sudden wave. She felt so thankful for her friends, her town…her life.
Maybe it was the Christmas season, she mused. Or maybe this whole thing with Jet was making her extra sentimental, turning her insides into piles of mushy goo. But whatever the reason, at that moment, she felt perfectly, one hundred percent content.
They pushed through the doors of the community center and heard a low buzz of voices coming from the back office area, traveling to them down the hallway that jutted off from the side of the foyer.
“Come on,” Gen said, “That must be them.”
The three women walked briskly down the hall. It was warm inside the building and Abby slid her gloves off her fingers as she walked, then pulled her coat off, as well.
When they stepped into the small back office, Troy and Jet were lounging on a small couch that sat along one wall while Mrs. Berg, the special events coordinator for the town, paced the room and spoke animatedly into her cell phone. She gestured wildly as the words tumbled out of her mouth. “Well, Gerald, I don’t think that’s good enough. No. You want to know why? Because Mary and Joseph weren’t in their seventies, that’s why. So, no, the mayor and his wife – while they do certainly qualify as local dignitaries – simply won’t do. And I am definitely not going to be accused of encouraging teen pregnancy, so Mary Ann Brock and Drake Garner are out, I don’t care if they are the Homecoming Queen and star quarterback.”
The woman’s eyes lighted on Abby, Gen, and Ella as they came into the room, and Abby waved at her. She’d known Mrs. Berg since she was a kid. They all had. She was a regular fixture in the Valentine Bay community.
Mrs. Berg’s eyes widened as she looked at Abby, and then her eyes flew to Jet. “Gerald, I’ll call you back,” she said hurriedly into the phone, and then swiped the red hang-up button with her thumb.
She pointed at Abby, her finger jutting into the space between them dramatically. “You!” she pronounced, and her sonorous voice filled the small space of the office.
“Me?” Abby stammered.
“Yes,” Mrs. Berg confirmed, then pointed at Jet. “And you.”
Jet sat up straighter. “Me?” he asked, echoing Abby’s question.
“Yes,” Mrs. Berg repeated. “You, and you.”
“What about us?” Abby asked.
“Well, I believe we’ve found our opening night Mary and Joseph. That’s what.”
Chapter 24
Jet
“I’m in,” Jet said, his mouth running ahead of his brain, spitting out the words before he’d even had a chance to think. Historically, that had been one of his biggest problems, but he thought it actually worked well for him here.
His eyes met Abby’s. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped, but there was a wide smile on her face.
“What the hell, I’m in, too,” she grinned.
“Well, it’s not the kind of language I’m used to hearing when people accept the roles of Mary and Joseph, but beggars, as they say, cannot be choosers. Let’s take you both to the storeroom in back and dig out some costumes for you.”
As Jet followed Mrs. Berg and Abby further down the hall of the musty old community center, a rush sped through him. He’d walked the backstage halls of every venue in the country, pretty much, from small bars to Madison Square Garden, and he’d never felt this exact strain of excitement.
Well, he’d rarely ever been sober. That was one aspect of it. But he knew the root.
He was with Abby. That was what made it special. Because she made everything special.
As the three of them dug through the boxes filled with biblical robes, Jet had to shake his head at the way his life had taken a turn. A month ago, he was selling out venues, playing to standing room only crowds. Now, he was digging through musty old robes and getting ready to stand in the cold all night with Abby and a rubber baby doll. And he freaking loved it.
“Jackpot!” Abby cried, and held up two pieces. In her right hand was a plain white tunic and in her left, a large length of royal blue fabric to act as a head covering.
“Classic,” Jet confirmed.
“Oh, yes, that’s perfect. A very traditional Mary,” Mrs. Berg agreed. “Now let’s go and get you dressed. Jet, I trust you can find what you’re looking for here?”
Jet searched the woman’s face for any hint that she’d made the statement intentionally to have such laser-sharp meaning for his life as well as his costume hunt, but she was clearly focused on one thing and one thing only – making sure the evening went off without a hitch.
He held up the chocolate brown robe that was currently in his fist. Hell, it wasn’t a fashion show. One of these things was pretty much the same as another. “I think this shade really sets off the olive undertones in my skin,” he deadpanned.
Mrs. Berg sighed. “Yes, yes, Jet Valentine. You always did have to have a smart remark. Now head off to the men’s room and get yourself dressed, will you?”
Jet pulled on the brown robe over his jeans and T-shirt. He considered changing into the sandals he’d found in the box with the robe, but then thought about the temperature outside and shook his head. In his version of the Bethlehem story, Joseph wore Doc Martens and that was going to have to be good enough.
When he stepped back out into the foyer, Abby was waiting for him. Her face lit up when she saw him, and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Even in her costume,
with ninety-five percent of her covered by shapeless cloth, she still radiated the kind of beauty that he’d never seen before in anyone else but her.
God, he’d wasted so much time. All through high school, when they’d been rivals, although that had been kind of fun. Then, all the years he’d been away, touring and building his career. Sure, that had been a different kind of fun, too. But, in the view from right now, it all paled.
Abby slipped her hand into his. “We just have to wait for Mrs. Berg. She’s in the back getting the baby doll prop.”
“Cool.”
Her eyes flicked to his feet. “Are we doing the lumberjack version of the nativity tonight?” she laughed.
He chuckled. “We’re doing the ‘it’s freaking cold outside’ version, and since Berg was so desperate for a last-minute stand-in, I don’t think I’ll be getting any arguments about it.”
Just then, Mrs. Berg came hustling out from the side hallway, a rubber doll in one hand and a wad of cloth in the other. She pushed both of them into Abby’s arms and spoke in a rushed voice. “All right, dear, here you are. I trust you can get the baby Jesus wrapped up and looking nice. I’ve got to go check on the animal wranglers. I’ll send someone to get you when it’s your cue to enter. Don’t forget to put your cell phones on silent!”
With that, she rushed out the front door, and Jet turned to Abby. “Ah, yes. The timeless admonition to the holy parents. Silence your cell phones.”
Abby gave a small laugh but didn’t look up. She was busy arranging the blanket wrappings around the doll and positioning him in her arms.
Whoa.
Jet had a sudden flash. His mind filled with images of her with their own children. Holding their baby. Looking up at him from her hospital bed as she cradled their child in her arms.
It stopped him cold. His throat was frozen, he couldn’t utter a word. His feet felt cemented to the floor.
A low heat spread from his head downward. The cold outside didn’t seem like nearly as big a worry as it had just two minutes ago.
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