The Christmas Wager, page 15
“Leave?” I offered, shuffling a step only to be captured and brought back.
“Hold still.” Freddy grabbed a fistful of tiny candy canes and looped a couple over my ears. “Trees can’t talk. Stand there and be . . . glowy.”
“What I am is ridiculous,” I grumbled, watching as another local pressed a giant gold star tree topper into Freddy’s hands. He and Wyatt somehow fixed it to the top of a cone hat made from green craft paper and plonked the whole thing on my head. By now the banker box lay empty at my feet. All the tinsel, garland, ornaments, and who knows what else had been draped and pinned to my clothes and shoes. Not a square inch of my jacket had eluded my festive makeover.
As I held still and let my team finish working on their creation, the smell of mulled wine and old-fashioned roasted chestnuts wafted past me. I’d loved those chestnuts since I was a child and I inhaled deeply. Groups of kids and adults wandered between competing teams, laughing, and pointing when they saw our outfits, joining in as we practiced our songs.
“I bet everyone’s going with ‘Jingle Bells,’ or something predictable,” Freddy had said as we’d stood in a circle a little earlier, speaking in hushed voices. “Let’s be different. More modern.”
After a quick debate, we’d settled on “Last Christmas” by Wham! Definitely a classic and not exactly modern but close enough, with Chris Rea’s “Driving Home for Christmas” as a backup because we somehow all knew the words, even Wyatt.
As the guys took great delight in making me look more and more absurd, I tried to see what the Peppermint Twists were doing, and who they’d chosen for their tree. Trouble was, the Merryatrics had spaced the teams around Town Square. With the number of spectators and the fact my cone hat kept slipping down my face, I couldn’t see much.
“That’s it, competitors, time’s up,” Gladys announced. “All of you, please come to the stage so we can admire your masterpieces and hear you belt out those tunes.”
It was a ludicrous request, really. Most of us so-called trees had been wrapped in so much stuff, we could hardly move. I followed everybody else, doing a shuffle-hop, shuffle-hop to the stage, relieved when I got to the top without wiping out.
Gladys asked a member of the youth choir to select a piece of paper from a Santa hat. He plunged his hand to the very bottom before waving the slip of paper in the air, shouting, “The Jolly Saint Nicks are first.”
Wyatt counted me in, and I burst into the first verse of “Last Christmas,” trying not to laugh as my hat slipped a few times. Each of us took turns singing our lines. I’ll admit we sounded pretty good performing a cappella and after we finished the last few bars, the rest of the team took a bow while I waved my hands. It was the only part of me I could still easily move.
Next up were the Bah Humbugs, who’d chosen “Frosty the Snowman.” Suzie, their team captain, had led the youth choir for years, so I’d already conceded they’d win this round. Yule Be Eating Our Sugar Dust picked “Silver Bells,” and it was . . . not good. Candy Cane Collective were fourth, with “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” and while their singing was mediocre, they got the entire Town Square shouting the words skyward.
Meanwhile, Bella’s face had changed color yet again, and she looked more unwell than before. She hadn’t been turned into a tree, and because of this and the expression on her face I wondered if she might bolt from the stage. After tearing away some garland that had been holding me hostage, I hobbled over.
“Is everything all right?” I asked. “I’ve been thinking you’re about to hurl ever since Gladys announced the game.”
“I can’t sing,” she said. “I’m absolutely terrible.”
“It doesn’t matter. You—”
“Yes, it does. You don’t understand. You’re practically George Michael so I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of watching me make a fool of myself.”
“No I won’t, I—”
“Yes you will,” she snapped, her tone sharp. “Why wouldn’t you? You want me to lose. There’s probably nothing you want more.” Without another word she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open, wondering what had just happened.
Chapter 17
Bella
I immediately regretted how I’d spoken to Jesse. All day he’d been attentive, kind, funny, and undeniably charming. He’d saved me from an avalanche, for crying out loud, a fact that seemed to have spread like wildfire throughout Maple Falls. Aside from the Peppermint Twists, three other people I’d never met had already asked me if I was okay. Endearing, for sure, but clearly the small-town gossip line was in working order, and that riled me, too.
Still, over the course of the day, it had become increasingly obvious Jesse was a man of many layers, someone I’d believed at first to be rude and standoffish. Except when we’d sat on his back deck and he’d told me about his parents, I’d seen a softer side. If I’d known him better, I’d have got up and put my arms around him the way he’d done to me on the mountain, especially when his voice wavered a couple of times.
I couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been, living through a tragedy of such magnitude. It emphasized my own selfishness, too. I’d missed another two calls from my mother—missed meaning ignored—plus she’d left me an uncharacteristic voice mail, which I’d not yet listened to. Yes, there were reasons for the silence between us, but after a near-death experience and hearing Jesse talk about his parents, I wondered if it was finally time to consider being less stubborn. Although Jesse’s and my familial situations weren’t the same. From the sound of it he’d always had a great relationship with his folks. He wasn’t idealizing them just because they were gone.
However, my carrying this amount of animosity around suddenly felt stifling and heavy. I questioned whether I was still defending my prolonged, principled, and cold-shouldered stance, particularly toward Mom, for any of the right reasons. Consequently, and for the first time in years, I thought about the possibility of a family reconciliation. What would happen if I stopped letting these old wounds fester but treated them instead? Over the past day, actually since I’d arrived in the tiny town of Maple Falls, a door in my heart had reopened. I wasn’t ready to burst through it quite yet, but I could no longer exclude taking a peek either.
It was strange how being here, a place so similar to my hometown in size and feel, wasn’t making me quite so claustrophobic as I felt in Bart’s Hollow. I realized that come Friday I’d almost be a little sad to leave this place, which I could barely bring myself to admit.
I’d definitely be happy to get this rotten singing challenge over with though. The main reason I snapped at Jesse was fear. Singing in front of, well, anyone, had a top spot on my list of ultimate nightmares. Some people woke up in a sweat when they dreamed about being naked in the middle of the street. Granted, that wasn’t something I’d do for fun on a Monday early evening either, but if I had to choose between parading down Main Street in my birthday suit or bursting into song in front of everyone, well, I might’ve gone with the naked thing.
Without exaggerating, I was a terrible singer. I couldn’t read music or play an instrument either and years ago a video of a twenty-three-year-old me massacring “I Will Survive” at one of Toronto’s karaoke bars had floated around the office where I worked. After that embarrassment, I even mimed the words to “Happy Birthday.”
Yet here I was, standing next to Nancy, who literally glowed from head to toe after we’d completed her transformation into a glorious Christmas tree. Caroline, Shanti, and I had covered her clothes in decorations, plopped a crown of gleaming multicolored fairy lights on top of her head, further bedazzling her two-mile-wide grin.
I’d actively participated because I wanted us to win as many points as possible, but I still felt like a real-life Ebenezer. That was me when it came to all things Christmas, a grinchy Scrooge. Except when it came to watching holiday movies with Jesse, apparently. For whatever reason, those films combined with his presence melted my icy heart. I hoped we could do it again. Soon.
I’d crossed my fingers as a member of the choir had pulled a name from Gladys’s Santa hat, relieved when the kid announced the Jolly Saint Nicks would go first. Except when Jesse had started singing, his rich, smooth baritone wasn’t something I’d easily forget. At one point I closed my eyes, pretending he was singing only to me, and when I opened them again, he turned his head and our eyes met across a crowded stage. Blushing hard, I’d forced myself to not look at him for the rest of the song.
As I’d watched the other teams perform—repeatedly wiping my palms on my new pants—I’d tried to remember my lyrics. With only a few more moments to go, I’d still been incapable of uttering the first line. Worse, I’d suggested we sing “Last Christmas,” but the Jolly Saint Nicks had performed it first. Had Jesse’s team picked the song because someone told them we’d chosen it? Maybe they’d sent a spy to listen and report back. If so, smart move, and I wished we’d thought of it because regardless of what had happened on Maple Peak today, or how comfortable I’d been spending the afternoon with Jesse, I’d almost forgotten an incontrovertible fact.
We were rivals.
I wasn’t here for fun, and I couldn’t forget it. Valerie, who’d demanded an update after every game, certainly wouldn’t.
“Are you ready?” Shanti whispered now, grabbing my hand. “We’re up next.”
I took a gulp of air, the smell of the mulled wine and roasted chestnuts turning my stomach. Dragging my feet, I followed Shanti, trying to give myself a pep talk about it only being a few words, just a couple of lines I needed to get through. No big deal. How bad could it really be? That was the problem because the answer was: atrocious.
Our backup tune was “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” by Bing Crosby, and during practice I’d messed up over and over. I’d insisted on going last so I could delay the horror for myself and everyone else, but Caroline’s eyes had still widened on my first attempt, and I bet the rest of the Peppermint Twists had wanted to stick their fingers in their ears.
Once onstage, I tried hiding behind Caroline, Shanti, and Nancy, but they moved aside so the four of us were in a line. Night had fallen, yet it seemed as if someone had cranked the heat up to mid-July temperatures. My palms puddled and beads of sweat slithered down my back as my throat dried up in an instant.
“And now,” Gladys said, “put your hands together for the Peppermint Twists.”
Shanti took the microphone and sang, her voice tentative to begin with, but by the end of the first line she hit every note. Caroline was next, stumbling on the initial words but recovering quickly, followed by Nancy who was perfection. As she passed the microphone to me, my mind was empty. I couldn’t remember a single line. The only thing left in my head was a static blank.
Nancy gave me an encouraging nod. I opened my mouth and still . . . nothing, not a word, not a sound, not a single note. It felt as if I were about to have an out-of-body experience as I looked into the crowd. Hoped I’d float into the sky, far, far away, but I didn’t, and I had no clue how to save the situation. Caroline whispered at me, but it felt as though I’d shoved two dozen of Nanny K’s charcoal-colored beanies over my head. I looked up, saw movement in the audience about ten feet ahead—tall and green and . . .
Jesse.
He was no longer on the stage but directly in front of me. I thought he’d point and laugh, which was surely what everyone was about to do anyway, but then he held something up and waved it at me. A sheet of bright yellow craft paper with the song’s lyrics in big black letters. From the flashing star on the top of his cone hat to the red-and-green-striped plastic baubles tied to his shoes, he looked utterly and completely ridiculous, yet he didn’t seem to care.
“Go on, Bella,” he shouted. “You can do it.”
After another of his encouraging nods, I began. While I wish I could say my performance rivaled Bing Crosby’s, it would’ve been a humdinger of a lie. Nobody had waved a magic wand to make me sound less appalling, but after another fifteen seconds, my solo was over. As the rest of the Peppermint Twists and the crowd joined in the chorus, I didn’t mime my way through it. Instead, I sang louder. I was off-key and as horrific as ever, but somehow it didn’t matter. Somehow, I was enjoying myself.
After the song faded, I searched for Jesse in the crowd, but he’d returned to the stage where he chatted with his team. Gladys’s voice boomed through the microphone again, announcing the choir was tallying points, and the rankings would be revealed imminently.
“What happened, Bella? You froze for ages,” Caroline asked.
“Singing isn’t my thing,” I said.
Caroline muttered under her breath but I couldn’t make it out. It still seemed as if she might shoot flames from her eyes, which I wasn’t sure I quite deserved, but thankfully Gladys announced it was points time.
I exhaled as Yule Be Eating Our Sugar Dust came last, but as I wished for a miracle—Christmas or otherwise—Gladys said, “In fourth place it’s the Peppermint Twists. Third is Candy Cane Collective, and in second we have the Jolly Saint Nicks.”
Okay, so it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t outright disastrous. We hadn’t come last, and the guys hadn’t won, meaning they were two points ahead in the overall standing, giving Jesse a twenty-second lead so far for Friday’s Ultimate Maple Run, as it was ten seconds per point. Not brilliant, but manageable, providing the Peppermint Twists didn’t fall any farther behind. The funny thing was though, we’d have come last, were it not for Jesse’s intervention. Why was he helping me? I couldn’t figure it out.
As Caroline, Shanti, and I had furiously transformed Nancy into a Christmas tree a little earlier, I’d done a bit more snooping into Jesse’s abilities.
“You know, I haven’t seen Jesse in so long,” I lied, half despising, half congratulating myself for being sly. “How worried should I be about the Maple Run? Got any advice?”
“He’ll be Spider-Man on the obstacles,” Nancy said. “But he’s not an avid runner.”
“Jesse isn’t fast then?”
“He will be at the start,” Caroline said. “He’s superfast.”
“That’s true,” Shanti said over her shoulder. “Him zooming off at the beginning has discouraged other team captains in the past because they don’t think they stand a chance, but he’s not a long-distance runner.”
“Actually, he despises it,” Caroline said. “He told me loads of times.”
“Why did his team choose him to do the course then?” I asked.
“It’s because of his parents,” Nancy said quietly. “They won the first iteration of the games together the Christmas before they died. Ever since, he runs in their honor, so the guys would never take his spot. Winning the final race means too much to him.”
Nancy’s words had stuck with me. As I now stood in the middle of Town Square, I felt ashamed. Jesse helping me with the lyrics was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for me. As I thought about it, more discomfort filled my head and my heart when I realized how little I deserved it. Up to this point, if the roles had been reversed, I’m not sure I’d have done the same.
Chapter 18
Bella
Jesse stood talking with Gladys at the bottom of the stage when I decided I had to speak to him. As I made my way over, the members from Bah Humbug, Candy Cane Collective, and Yule Be Eating Our Sugar Dust shook my hand and patted me on the back, congratulating me as I reciprocated with equal enthusiasm, thinking how odd it felt yet how lovely it was to be seen almost as one of them.
“Great job, Bella,” Gladys said as I walked up. “All right, kids. There’s a bag or three of roasted chestnuts with my name on ’em. Don’t be late for tomorrow afternoon’s game. We’ll see you in the parking lot by Shimmer Lake at five, sharp. Dress warmly.”
“You’re not sending us in the lake again, are you?” Jesse said.
“What do you mean in the lake?” I said. “Isn’t it frozen?”
Gladys mimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key before backing into the crowd while performing jazz hands. As she left, Jesse’s expression changed, his face becoming guarded.
“Apologies for biting your head off earlier,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to.”
A smile tugged on his lips. “You realize if I were a gingerbread man, I’d be dead.”
While I appreciated him defusing the situation, I still hesitated a little before saying, “Thank you for helping me. It was . . . unexpected.”
“Don’t mention it.”
When he turned to leave, I grabbed his arm. “Why did you? Why not let me fail?”
Jesse shrugged, a new expression on his face I couldn’t quite decode and didn’t know what to do with. It seemed as if he might tell me, almost as if he were about to confess a secret, but then someone called my name, and he took a step back.
“There you are, Bella.” Nancy rushed toward us. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Jesse, a word of advice. Dump the guys next time and go solo. I swear, you’ll win hands down.”
Jesse laughed. “Whatever you say.”
“You’re cute when you blush. Isn’t he, Bella?” Nancy said.
Thankfully she wasn’t in need of a confirmation, and I just about stopped myself from agreeing with her. “You were looking for me?” I asked.
“The Peppermint Twists are coming to Shanti and mine for drinks and strategy,” Nancy replied. “Sorry, Jesse, I’m stealing this lady away for the evening and I’m afraid you can’t join.”
“No problem,” he said.
“You will come, Bella, won’t you?” she said.
I wanted to press Jesse for a more detailed explanation about why he’d saved my ass a second time today, but as Nancy threaded her arm through mine, he’d already moved a few steps away, standing next to Clarence and Mayor Bonnie. When our eyes met, he gave me a small nod and raised his hand in a wave before turning back to them, which was my cue to leave.
