Christmas Comes to Main Street (22 page)

K
ara could recall in vivid detail at least fifteen major disasters that had threatened to ruin the local production of
The Nutcracker
over the years—power outages due to inclement weather, fruit punch spilled down the front of a white costume, and of course, sound system issues—but tonight's was perhaps the worst yet.

“What do you mean Mom lost her voice?” she asked Molly, who had officially bitten off all her nails by the time Kara arrived on the scene.

Molly stared at her with big blue eyes, not blinking. “It was a little scratchy last night, but this morning she was out of the house before I even woke up, so I thought nothing of it.”

“But she always introduces the show,” Kara said.

“Well, that's hardly the problem. She's been running through the dress rehearsal today using big hand movements and trying to pantomime her instructions. She finally resorted to a whiteboard, but she's gotten herself so worked up that no one can even read her writing anymore.”

“Oh dear,” Kara said, biting her lip. Regardless that the show always went off without a hitch from the audience's perspective, Kara knew all too well how chaotic things often were backstage. Last year she'd had to talk a twelve-year-old girl through the disaster of breaking a barrette before the girl cried off all her makeup less than forty-five seconds before she was scheduled to pirouette onto the stage. “Well, I guess it's a good thing you're here.”

“Me?” cried Molly. “What about you? I've been dealing with this all day.”

“I have to oversee the refreshment stand at intermission. And the charity drives,” Kara pointed out. She looked at the clock. It was ten past five. Meaning…

Turning, Kara pushed out of the costume room, where Molly had apparently taken shelter for the last twenty-five minutes, and marched out into the lobby of the auditorium, where, among the six-foot-tall nutcracker statues and endless garland and fairy lights, stood Nate, surrounded by piles and piles of toys.

“If you were a little heavier and a little older, I'd say you look like Santa,” she said warmly.

Nate shrugged. “I think I've officially bought out Main Street Toys and Trains,” he said, laughing. “I hope the little tykes enjoy it.”

Kara admired the loot. “How can they not?” She gestured to the beautifully decorated tree that Molly had been in charge of that afternoon. “Why don't we set them around the tree for tonight, and everyone who brings a gift can add to it? Tomorrow I'll be bringing everything over to the Forest Ridge Hope Center.”

“I brought some nonperishable items, too,” Nate said, gesturing to the half dozen bulging bags at his feet. “Does the back corner work for those?”

“Perfect,” Kara breathed. This was exactly what she needed right now, someone who could make some helpful suggestions and take over one of the tasks on her list. With each passing second, her own anxiety was growing, just as she knew her mother's was. People started to mill around out front a solid half hour before the show, some even earlier, and she knew from past experience that the hour leading up to the doors opening passed by with lightning speed.

“Are you okay? You look a little… frazzled.” Nate reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“Do I?” Kara frowned, looking down at the new outfit she'd bought for the occasion.

“I stand corrected,” Nate said, stepping forward. “You
look
beautiful.” He gave an appreciative sweep down her body that made her tingle with pleasure. “You
seem
frazzled.”

“Is it the feverish glint in my eyes or the hysteria in my voice?” Kara joked.

“Both,” Nate said, grinning.

“If you think I'm frazzled, you should see my mother. And my sister. We're always a little stressed before the show, but by the end, we're always pleased with the outcome.”

“Maybe we could have a drink after the show?”

Kara couldn't contain her excitement at the invitation. “I'd like that,” she said, stepping back to begin setting up her cookies for the refreshment stand.

The front door burst open, carrying a blast of icy wind with it, and Luke marched through, Grace close at his heels. “I've been told there is an emergency,” he said, giving Kara a conspiratorial wink.

“How'd you know if Mom can't even talk?” Kara asked.

Luke waved his phone. “Text. I must have received a hundred of them today. I was ready to throw the damn thing away.”

Kara tipped her chin in the direction of the hall leading backstage. “Tell me you brought some extra dry erase markers. Apparently she's already gone through a pack.”

“I believe that one of her texts asked me to raid the school supply closet,” Luke said wanly, “but yes, I have them.”

Kara and Grace exchanged a knowing glance as Luke left them in the lobby to deliver the goods. “Is Jane backstage?”

Kara nodded at Grace. “I only saw her briefly. She's helping with costumes. A few girls already ripped their tights—”

Grace gasped. This had been an issue in the past, one that kept Rosemary awake at night in the weeks leading up to the show, usually resulting in dozens of extra pairs on hand, even if they weren't needed.

“Luckily, Jane managed to handle the situation before my mother found out. At least the sound system's working this year.” Kara knocked on the refreshment table and heard Nate snort in laughter from under the tree.

Grace slid her gaze to the man crouched under the large fir with interest, and with a teasing smile, gave Kara a less-than-subtle wink before hurrying off to find Luke.

Kara smoothed her red skirt over her hips and began quickly setting up her stand. She didn't look up again until the doors opened and Mrs. Griffin entered, her winter-white scarf wrapped around her neck, with Ivy and Brett close behind.

“Look at all those toys!” Ivy remarked, standing before the tree in awe.

“We can thank Nate for his generosity,” Kara chimed in, but when she saw Nate's bashful grin, she wondered if he'd have preferred not to have the attention on him.

“That's my nephew for you!” Mrs. Griffin remarked, and the look that passed between Nate and Kara eased whatever tension might have arisen.

“This is wonderful,” Brett said, coming to stand next to Ivy. “I've done my best at the hospital, but this surpasses my own efforts.”

“It was nothing,” Nate said, shrugging.

Anna and Mark arrived next, looking more giddy than Kara could ever recall, no doubt already looking forward to their big day next week.

“You've really put us on the spot for a bachelor party,” Brett told his brother, giving their cousin Luke a look of chagrin. “But we're pulling something together. This Saturday night, if that works.”

“It works,” Anna spoke for him, adding, “You're taking the night off. Boss's orders.”

“Well, then consider Sunday morning ours for the shower,” Grace said. “Kara, will you bring some cookies for the dessert?”

Kara brightened at the request. “My pleasure!”

“Then it's settled,” Grace said. She turned, eyeing the thickening crowd, some of whom were already gathering around the refreshment stand. “And speaking of cookies, it looks like you're in for a busy night.”

Kara gave her friend a nervous smile. “I suppose I am.”

Soon the lobby was filled with all the familiar faces she'd known and loved for as long as she could remember. More than half her cookies were sold before the patrons had even taken their seats for the first act, but somewhere in the whirlwind of it all, she managed to catch Nate's eye, watching her from the side.

She would have loved to have gone into the audience with him, taken a seat by his side, and enjoyed the show, but her attention was needed behind the scenes. It was a family affair, after all. And besides, she had the entire evening ahead to look forward to.

And oh, was she looking forward to it.

Kara chattered excitedly the entire walk back to her apartment, and even though ballet was hardly his thing, Nate found himself getting caught up in her energy. The show had come and gone in a blur, and he'd been paying more attention to the audience than the dancers onstage. There was an energy in the room, a feeling of togetherness in the packed house that made him feel something close to depressed. More than once he'd thought of his mother, how much she would have enjoyed seeing the performance, how delighted she would have been when the music swelled, how she would have talked for hours about the sparkling costumes, the scenery, the talent.

She would have loved everything about Christmas in Briar Creek. Almost more than he was himself.

“I don't know about you, but I could use a drink,” Kara said, opening the fridge. For a moment, he thought she was going to reach for the eggnog, but instead, she plucked a bottle of white wine from the inside door and handed it to him.

“I'll hang up our coats, if you'll do the honors,” she said, giving him the corkscrew.

Nate found two glasses and allowed them each a generous pour. From the living room, he could hear Kara humming under her breath, a song he recognized from tonight's show.

She was just shutting the closet door when he joined her, two glasses in hand, and he allowed himself a sweep of her curves, his gut stirring at the way her hips flared under the soft red fabric of her skirt.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the wine from him.

“I think a toast is in order,” Nate said, raising his glass. “To… a successful night.”

Kara clinked her glass with his and took a long sip, raising her eyebrow over the rim. “Let's see if tomorrow night is as successful.”

When he looked at her blankly, she said, “The Holiday House judging is tomorrow night! You didn't forget, did you?”

Nate managed a tight smile. “Of course not. How could I?” He laughed uneasily as they settled onto the couch. “The days are just slipping away from me.”

“Time flies when you're having fun,” Kara said. She looked away, her smile turning a little sad.

“Well, I don't know about you, but I'll be happy when this contest is behind us,” Nate remarked. With any luck, Kathleen Madison would just win the whole thing. Chances were high that would happen, and it would save him having to feel like he'd somehow let Kara or his aunt down.

“Oh my God, I can't believe I forgot to tell you!” Kara said, setting her drink excitedly on the table.

“What?” Nate searched her face, looking for a clue.

“With Anna's wedding being next week, Kathleen decided to devote all her attention to getting ready for the wedding, and she's taken herself out of the contest. Grace told me tonight at the intermission. I was so busy with the refreshment stand that I almost didn't even have time to properly digest it.” She grabbed his wrists with two hands and squeezed. “Do you know what this means?”

Nate swallowed hard. He knew what it meant, all right. It meant their chances of winning had increased. But there could only be one winner. And both were so deserving. For so many reasons.

“Are you going to be disappointed if you don't win?” he asked, bracing himself.

“More than I thought I would be,” Kara admitted on a sigh, and Nate brought the glass to his lips once more. “I can't help thinking of how much the money would help the bakery. I really do need some help. I'm on to something, but I'm still in that gray area…”

Nate nodded. Most of his clients were in the gray area, that fine line between sinking and succeeding. “Could you apply for a loan?” he suggested, thinking that might cover the cost of some part-time help.

“I'm not sure I'd qualify,” Kara said. “I don't have much income.”

Nate briefly closed his eyes. She had a point there.

“I have to admit, I was really worried about tonight,” Kara said.

“Worried that someone would fall off the stage?” Nate asked, and Kara burst out laughing.

“Now, that's never happened. Yet.” She played with her bracelet. “No, I was worried about the cookies, I guess. Worried that no one would buy them. That my mom would regret asking me to sell them.”

“But she's your mother,” Nate said, confused.

“Yes, but she has high standards, and even though I'm an adult, I still seek her approval. I can't help it.”

“I understand,” Nate said, pulling in a breath. He took a sip of his drink, feeling it chase the heat down his throat. “You want to please her. You don't want to feel like you've let her down.”

“Exactly,” she said.

“Well, you haven't. From the look on her face just before we left, I'd say she was nothing short of impressed.” He looked down into his glass. “I'm afraid I'm the one who's let my parents down recently.”

“You? How?”

“I ruined their Christmas,” Nate said.

“What?” Kara swatted his arm. “Please. You sent them on a Mediterranean cruise!”

“Exactly. I sent them away. At Christmastime. I didn't do it for them. I did it for me.” The bitter taste of guilt filled his mouth. “My mother loves nothing more than taking evening walks in the snow, just to look at the lights. Or making gingerbread, just so the apartment is full of the smells of the holiday. I used to think it was sad, too simple. But now I see that it was enough.”

“It sounds lovely,” Kara said, “but I'm sure the Mediterranean is, too.”

Despite the heaviness in his chest, Nate managed to smile. “Last year I claimed I had scheduled a big meeting for the day after Christmas. I managed to fly out early, claiming precautionary action due to weather conditions.”

“So dodging Christmas is sort of your holiday tradition,” Kara surmised.

“It used to be,” Nate said. “Now… I don't think Christmas will ever be the same again.”

“You know you're welcome to come with me tomorrow, to drop off the toys,” Kara said. “Given how generous you've been, I thought you might like to see it through.”