It's a Fabulous Life, page 18
“So it looks bad, but it’s secure,” Bailey said.
“Completely secure. That sucker’s not going anywhere.”
She nodded, accepting security over appearance. “Honestly, that’s the least important thing right now.”
Jane took the clipboard from her. “I’ll handle the vendors.”
“Wait.” Maria grabbed Bailey’s arm. “I’ve got it.” She pointed several times toward the tall Christmas tree.
“What?” Bailey said. “We have everyone stare at the tree for an hour?”
“The madrigals.”
The teen singers had congregated in front of the tree, adjusting their matching scarves. “The madrigals,” she murmured.
“They’re not scheduled to perform, right?” Maria said.
“No. They just carol off and on during the day.”
“Perfect.”
Maria dragged her toward the group. “Hi, guys!” she called. “Are you in fine voice today?”
The kids said they were, both in words and in song.
“Great. That’s so great. Weren’t you telling us you wanted to perform some modern songs? And you’ve been working on them?”
“Yeah,” Zack Walsh said. “We’ve got a tight Mariah Carey Christmas medley.”
“That’s amazing. Oh my gosh.” Maria wrapped both her arms around one of Bailey’s, hanging heavy with relief. “We have a gig for you. Tonight. Here. The grand finale.”
“Doesn’t a band usually play that?”
“We’d much rather have you,” Maria said.
“They canceled this morning,” Bailey added.
Maria squeezed tightly. “But we like you so much more and would be delighted to have you perform onstage, where your talent will shine.”
The kids beamed with excitement. “Cool,” Zack said.
“That would be lit,” a short brunette boy said.
Two of the altos squealed and clasped hands and said, “‘Last Christmas!’” in unison.
Bailey spoke above their enthusiastic din. “If you need to set up, you can start doing so at six o’clock. Performance is at seven. The band was slated for an hour, but really, whatever you have will work.”
Zack pumped his fist. “I’ve got it. We’ll put together a program.”
The teens quickly volunteered to handle costumes and arrangements and a song list. At least they were psyched about this turn of events.
“I’ll let the sound and lighting techs know about the change,” Bailey said. “You can talk to them about your needs. They’re nice guys.”
Nice guys who may or may not get paid today.
The kids bounced ideas off one another. They were all in. “Thank you so much,” Maria said.
They insisted they were happy for the opportunity. “You’ll be paid,” Bailey told them. “The band—”
The madrigals whooped and cheered about a paying gig. She’d figure that out later.
Okay. Immediate Problem Number Two was settled. Back to Immediate Problem Number One. She thanked the teens, then walked with Maria toward the small tent where the sound and light boards were set up.
“Thanks,” Bailey said. “That was a good idea.”
Maria looped her arm through Bailey’s. “Hey, we’re doing this together.”
“I’m honestly mystified by what happened to the checks.”
“They’ll turn up. Have a little Christmas faith.” She smiled, a secret elf spreading holiday cheer even when faced with challenges.
Bailey wrenched her lips upward. The madrigals would be an okay replacement. Hell, she’d rather pay them than dickish Dustin. Provided they could find the freaking checks.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The morning thankfully passed in more typical Wonderfest fashion. Attendees were in high spirits, and nothing else had gone wrong. Bailey stood from where she’d helped one of the jewelry vendors pick up a display that had gotten knocked over by a baby with flailing limbs.
“I think that’s everything,” she said, hanging a beaded necklace on a little hook.
The older Latina woman thanked her from behind the booth. Bailey checked the ground one last time to be sure she hadn’t missed anything. She was triple-checking everything now.
She made her way to the food vendors. Competing odors clashed with the late lunch rush: popcorn and pizza and tacos and sugary-sweet pastries. She moved along the back side, asking folks if they needed anything.
So far, so good. The worst of the day had already happened. If only they could locate the checks.
Ellis had made the decision to cancel them when it became clear they were simply gone. She and the treasurer were working on issuing new ones (sans one for Dusty Dreams, plus one for the madrigals). It was so embarrassing.
Bailey’s cheeks flamed just thinking about it. How could she lose the checks for the festival? They were her responsibility. And she’d given Ellis an unnecessary headache when the mayor had more important things to do.
She paused at the back edge of the food tent. Muted chatter came through the side walls. One of the support poles near the other end stuck out like an elbow. That must’ve been the bent one. She walked down to get a better look.
Jeez, no wonder the tent was so crooked. The pole wasn’t just bent—it was at a good forty-five degree angle. She jiggled it. The guylines staked into the ground held taut. She jiggled it harder, and the metal groaned. Whoops.
She let go quickly. Then she pulled out her clipboard and jotted a note to ask Vince and his crew if the rental company had given them a bent pole, or had it happened during assembly?
Applause broke out near the stage. The KidTunes performers had just finished. Hopefully, Ellis would sign the new checks ASAP so Bailey wouldn’t have to endure further embarrassment and could actually pay them.
Two young boys walked by wearing the wreaths they’d decorated around their necks. Pete and Tom did a great job coordinating the activity stations, but she should probably check in. Plus, it’d buy her time.
She strolled along the far side of the food tent. The crowd slowed her progress toward the path, so she checked her phone. Ellis was going to let her know when she got back from Town Hall.
An email notification from the hotel she was supposed to be at advertised a special January deal. Why are you mocking me, email ad?
Maybe things would be different in January. Maybe she could still take a vacation. Or maybe she had a reason to stay …
Or maybe you’ll be making plans to move down there in January.
Shoot, she’d nearly forgotten about Sammie and that email still awaiting a reply.
“There you are.”
Maria appeared beside her, blonde hair tousled and cheeks rosy from the breeze. She held two metal tumblers in her mittened hands. “It’s been a while since you ate lunch,” she said. “Time for a treat.”
She’d been plying Bailey with food in regular intervals. Maria’s unyielding optimism had kept her from spiraling into complete and utter grouchiness. She really was too good for this world.
Sunlight glinted off the familiar red mugs. “Is that Gruber hot cocoa?” Bailey said.
“It sure is.” Maria held one of them out. “You more than deserve it.”
“I was supposed to buy you one. That was our deal.” Damn it, she couldn’t even fulfill that task today.
“Oh, you will. I’m having two or three of these before the day is done.” Maria danced the tumbler in front of Bailey. “That’s why I got reusable mugs.”
“You’re amazing,” she said, and took the offered tumbler.
“I know.” Maria slurped loudly on her cocoa. She was amazing, but Bailey was royally sucking. “Is Ellis back yet?”
“Not yet,” Bailey said. “I’m waiting for her text. I was about to check in with Pete and Tom.”
“Have you seen the snowmen? People are bringing their A-games this year.”
“They usually do.”
The foot traffic along the path made it slow going, but Bailey had hot cocoa and Maria at her side and was not complaining. Maria continued to be true to her word and had been with Bailey every step of the way today. As she’d promised. Trusting her—counting on her—was easy to do now.
Bailey shared a wave with Jane and her girlfriend standing in line to buy giant pretzels. Yvette and Paul chatted with Carter and his and Ellis’s three kids in another line. Bailey tried to hide inside her fluffy blue scarf so she wouldn’t have to apologize for being the reason Ellis wasn’t with them.
Maria elbowed her and said, “Ooh, look at the wreaths those guys made. They look professionally decorated.”
Two snappily dressed men each carried a large grapevine wreath carefully dotted with faux white poinsettias, greenery, and baubles.
“Nice,” Bailey agreed.
“You’ve probably made a dozen of those over the years.”
“I haven’t had time to.”
“But you’ve done the snowman competition, right?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
Maria regarded her as they stepped off the path. “You haven’t had the chance to enjoy the festival.”
“Not while being the official keeper of the clipboard,” Bailey said, and took a sip of heavenly cocoa. The rich chocolate tasted like the holidays.
“No wonder you don’t like it. You don’t get to do any of the fun stuff.”
“I’m too busy making sure everything runs smoothly.” Making sure everyone else is having a good time.
“Well, this year you’re doing something fun. I’m also the committee head of fun times for Bailey George.”
“I didn’t realize that was a committee,” Bailey said.
“It’s a newly formed one-person committee.” Maria’s face sobered. “For which I take my duties very seriously.”
She was being her usual sweet self, but this wasn’t the day to throw caution to the wind and whoop it up. Bailey had messed up and was literally hiding from people. “Maybe later,” she said.
“Maybe now,” Maria countered, and nodded to where four fake snowman forms were waiting to be dressed. Tubs full of hats and scarves and wacky accessories sat beside them. Three teams sorted through their tubs, laughing about the contents.
“I have to go tell the KidTunes actors their check is en route.” Bailey swirled her hot chocolate. “I really hope this will be the push to do away with paying for everything by check. It’s so outdated.”
“That’s one way to look on the bright side.”
Maria shouldered her way to the folding table. Tom smiled at them from where he sat with the sign-up sheet.
“How’s it going?” Bailey asked. “Any problems?”
“None at all,” Tom said. “Everyone’s having a great time. Do you two want to sign up? I can get you in in about an hour.”
“No thanks,” Bailey said as Maria said, “Absolutely!”
Bailey gave her a look. “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing in an hour.”
Tom’s mouth twisted as he studied the sign-up sheet. “Actually …” He called over the crowd noise, “Are Bob and Lynn here? Last call for Bob and Lynn.”
Nobody responded.
“People don’t always come back. If you want, you can go now.”
“Heck yeah, we want to go now.” Maria took Bailey’s tumbler before she could protest and set both mugs on the table.
She tried protesting anyway. “I really can’t right now.”
“It’s ten minutes,” Maria said as she de-mittened. “You can let your hair down for ten minutes. Come on, partner.”
Maria captured her hand, which was starting to become a welcome regular occurrence. Their fingers laced together. A perfect fit. Two puzzle pieces made to join.
They went to the last snowman form in the line. Holes and little chunks dotted the three large stacked Styrofoam balls. The park district had to throw them out every year because they got demolished, but they couldn’t count on having enough real snow to reuse all day.
“We’re making a snow lady,” Maria said. She rummaged through their tub, then held up a hot-pink feather boa. “A sassy snow lady.”
Bailey nodded her agreement. It was hard to say no to a Christmas elf.
She slid her messenger bag off. She could do this for Maria, since Maria had done so much for her.
Tom clapped to get everyone’s attention. “All right, contestants. You have ten minutes to dress your snowperson however you’d like. Have fun, and be creative.” He stared at the stopwatch in his hand. “Starting … now!”
Maria pulled out two short but sturdy branches from the tub. Bailey looked for buttons or little things to decorate the face. “Are you as competitive about this as you are with trivia?” she asked.
“I like giving a hundred percent.” Maria shoved a branch into one side of the middle ball. “Let’s focus on big-picture items first, then the details.”
The white mop head would make good hair. Bailey tucked it under her arm. She took the boa and draped it over Maria’s shoulders. Synthetic pink feathers floated off it.
“Not on me,” Maria said, brows furrowed in concentration. “On her.”
“Hold on to it for her,” Bailey laughed. She plopped the mop in place, adjusting it so it hung somewhat like hair.
Maria stepped back from pushing the other branch into place. “Ooh, good call on the hair.”
They searched for an outfit, dismissing all the coats. Nothing about their assigned wardrobe was sassy enough to complement the boa around Maria’s neck.
Bailey eyed a large Hawaiian shirt. “What if …” She snapped her fingers. “Got it.”
She pulled it from the tub and wrapped it around the bottom fake snow ball. “This could be a sarong. I think there’s a pair of plastic sunglasses in there. We just need to find something that looks like a bikini top.”
“You’ll do anything to pretend like you’re at the beach,” Maria teased.
“Let’s be different. Sassy tropical snow lady.”
As Bailey tied the short sleeves in a loose knot, her phone jingled in her coat pocket. She read the screen, relief washing over her. “Ellis is back with the new checks. She’ll meet us by the stage.”
“Five minutes,” Tom announced. The young Black girl working next to them with her dad squealed.
Maria gestured at the tub. “We’ll meet her in five minutes. Find those sunglasses.”
“Maria—” Bailey began.
“The fate of Winter Wonderfest does not rest solely on your shoulders. They can wait. Let’s finish what we started.”
“But I have to—”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Maria rested her hands on her hips. “Everyone knows how hard you work. Nobody will mind if you actually enjoy the day you wanted no part of. They’ll probably be thrilled for you to have fun. So enjoy yourself, damn it.”
She nudged Bailey with an elbow. Amusement danced in her chocolate eyes. Mortals were powerless against her elfin powers of adorableness. And moreover, she had a point. Bailey was entitled to enjoy the festival. Especially this year, even with that morning’s giant mistake.
“I’m telling Ellis to pay KidTunes,” she said as she typed a reply text. “And that I’ll—we’ll—be there in a few minutes.”
“We will,” Maria said, then bent to search their tub.
Bailey watched her determined partner. Damn, she wanted to hug her, hold her, kiss her senseless at Mistletoe Grove. Then get warmed up in front of a crackling fire before getting really nice and warm—
“Don’t just stand there.” Maria waved her down. “Sunglasses. Bikini top. Beachy stuff.”
“I love how bossy you are,” Bailey murmured.
Her chest tightened. Oh, crap.
Maria didn’t appear to have heard her. Saying love even while joking about her take-charge attitude was … whoa. Not something they needed right now.
The fluttering in her belly moved lower. She dug through the tub with numb fingers, and not from the cold. Loving Maria seemed so easy. Sounded so right. She could love a woman like Maria.
Who are you kidding? You could love a woman who IS Maria.
Bailey shook her head and found the comically large neon-green sunglasses. Maria held up two wool scarves. “We could tie these together for a bikini top.”
“A very scratchy bikini top.”
“Ugh, you’re right.” She dropped them, then pursed her lips.
They’d pushed all the gloves to one side. “Hear me out,” Bailey said, and snagged a pair of knit red mittens. “It’s tacky, but we could use these, and find a string or something to make them look connected.”
“Oh my God, that’s so perfect and tacky.” Maria took them and propped them onto the Styrofoam form. They peeled off. “We have to get them to stay on.”
“How about …” Bailey scanned the tub. She pulled a thick black belt from the bottom. “This?”
“A belt?”
“It’ll be secure.”
The minutes ticked by as they tried different ways to fashion a bra out of mittens and a leather belt. Maria burst into the giggles. “She’s here to tell you you’ve been very naughty this year.”
Bailey snorted at their tropical dominatrix. “Did you happen to spot a whip in our tub?”
“Sadly, no.”
They laughed at the ridiculous faux bikini top. “All she needs is thigh-high black boots,” Maria snickered.
“She needs something for a mouth,” Bailey said.
“I’ve got lipstick.”
“We can’t use lipstick. It has to be something that can be removed.”
“Shoot.”
“One minute to go,” Tom alerted the contestants. “Get those finishing touches on.”
Exhilaration swirled through her bloodstream. “She needs lips!” Bailey cried.
“And cheeks!” Maria declared.
They checked their tub for anything red or pink. Bailey found two mismatched red buttons while Maria grabbed something for the mouth.
The buttons made okay uneven cheeks. Maria stuck a gnarly carrot sideways on the bottom of the top ball.
“Carrot mouth?” Bailey said.
“Desperate times.” Maria stepped back, bright pink feathers against her green coat.
