It's a Fabulous Life, page 20
What? Bailey could only look around in the hopes this was one of those prank TV shows. Or had she been transported to the Twilight Zone?
“Umm …” She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Dusty Dreams isn’t playing tonight.” She gestured over her shoulder. “A big tree fell. The tent almost collapsed. Today is full of disappointments.”
The kids grumbled and groused and got on their phones. Great. This whole fiasco was going to be all over social media. It reflected so badly on the town. On its hardworking people. They didn’t deserve to be raked over the coals when it was ultimately Bailey’s fault.
This reflected badly on her too. Who would want to buy or sell a home from the woman who couldn’t keep a simple festival running smoothly?
What if it got back to Sammie’s bosses? What if it ruined any chance to …
Uncle Bill shouldered his way out of the crowd. “What are you doing here?” Bailey said. “You hate gatherings.”
“They’ve got those hot dogs I like,” he said, jutting a thumb toward the food vendors.
“Of course you’re here.” Uncontrollable laughter bubbled up in her throat. Naturally Uncle Bill, the man who hated people-ing, was there. Made total sense. “Next, Felicity Potter’s gonna come running into your arms and you’ll declare your decades-long love affair.”
His face wrinkled with revulsion. “That’s never happening.”
Bailey plopped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the sanest thing I’ve heard all day. At least I know I’m not in an alternate universe.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“Not even remotely,” she laughed.
The park district truck pulled up to the entrance. Santa Arnie ordered everyone to clear a path. Bailey joined the crowd as Uncle Bill went to get his beloved hot dog. At some point, Ellis had started a sing-along of Christmas carols to keep the mood light. They were well into “Silent Night.”
Maria sidled up to Bailey. “Will this work?”
“Now would be a good time to believe in Christmas miracles,” Bailey said.
“I do.” Maria crossed her fingers on both hands.
The bucket on the back of the pickup truck rose slowly beside the Christmas tree. It caught everyone’s attention. Bailey crossed her fingers and hoped for the best.
Arnie and the Grubers dislodged the cart. They had to untangle it from the lights and branches. It was all dinged up and full of spilled cocoa.
“That’s too bad,” Maria said. “For them, of course. But I wanted more cocoa.”
“It’d be pine flavored now,” Bailey said, which garnered a slap on the arm in response.
The park district guy heaved the top of the tree while the crew at ground level guided it safely. They then worked on making sure it was secure in the base.
“All right,” Ellis’s voice echoed through the stage speakers. “Let’s hear it for our terrific Lanford Falls Park District.”
Applause broke out. The tree looked like it had just gotten home from a night of partying. The golden star sat crookedly on top.
Maria’s eyebrows drew together. “What else needs to get done?”
“Huh?” Bailey shook the haze from her head. She just could not believe what was going on.
“What can I do to help?”
She reached for her messenger bag, then vaguely recalled setting it on a chair in the tent. There was so much to do. The tree had to get fixed. The power had to go back on. The tent had to be bolstered. The madrigals had to not suck tonight. And oh yeah, the festival still had all of its regularly scheduled activities.
“Bailey?” Maria said. “What can I do?”
She looked down at Maria’s beautiful, sincere face. Sweet Maria wanted to have fun and be happy when all Bailey could bring her was disappointment. She was disappointing everyone. Maria didn’t need to be on the receiving end of that.
Anger coursed through her body in sharp waves. She’d been distracted and hadn’t paid attention to her duties. She’d never done that at past festivals, always focusing on the event, the schedule, what came next. Clearly, she was not meant to enjoy Winter Wonderfest or there would be dire consequences.
“I need to check with Vince,” Bailey said, and walked away. Unsurprisingly, Maria followed.
They skirted the long way around the truck. Vince stood beside the generator, waiting for the all-clear. When his crew gave the okay, he flicked a switch.
The lights on the tree blazed once more. A section toward the top was out, but the crooked star glistened as the sun dipped behind the maple trees.
“And we have lights!” Ellis cheered through the microphone. “Sorry again for the disruption, folks. Thank you for your understanding. Let’s do a verse of ‘O Christmas Tree.’”
The carol floated across the village green, and the crew called up to the guy in the bucket. It all swirled in a dull roar in Bailey’s ears.
Vince gave her two thumbs-up. “Crisis averted.”
“For now,” she grumbled.
“Bet you wish you didn’t cancel your trip for this,” he joked.
A sickening squish twisted her insides. “Can’t wait to field all the complaints we’ll get.”
“It’s one for the books, that’s for sure.” He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. “I was on the phone with the tent place. They’ve got a replacement pole. I can run and get it.”
“I’ll get it,” Bailey said. Because I might be the reason we need one. “You should be here for the next disaster.”
“You sure? I can send one of my crew.”
“I’m sure.” She needed to get out of there. Escape the madness before she did even more damage.
“Use one of our trucks,” Vince said. He slid a key off the carabineer attached to his belt loop. “The pickup truck parked at the far end of the lot.”
Bailey took it and headed toward the maple trees. Maria fell in step with her. She wanted to help, so Bailey told her, “I need you to go to my bag. It’s in the tent. Give Jane the clipboard. She’ll know what to do. And ask Ellis to pay everyone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
They reached the sidewalk along Main Street. “Sure, but I was going to go with you,” Maria said.
“I need you here.”
“But—”
“You’re not coming with me,” Bailey snapped.
“What if you need help?”
“I won’t need help.”
“Bailey—”
“I don’t want anybody’s help. I just want to get out of here.”
“Hey.” Maria set a hand on her arm, gently forcing her to stop. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Other than the obvious.”
Crossing her arms, Bailey said, “None of this was supposed to be my responsibility. I wanted out, and instead I’m here cleaning up the mess. As usual.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Maria said. “None of this is your fault.”
“I’m in charge. It falls on me when things go wrong.”
“A couple of bad things happened, but you didn’t—”
“I lost the checks. I lost our band for the finale.”
“But you fixed that.”
“I shouldn’t have to be the one to fix it.” Her voice rose as her frustration boiled over. “I’m always the one who fixes it. I’m so sick of it. Of this town. Of constantly feeling like I’m obligated to do everything for everyone else. When do I get to do what I want?”
“You can,” Maria said, but Bailey’s last shred of patience unraveled.
“You’re right, Maria. I can. I can get out of here. I can take that job in the city. This town …” Her lips curled into a cynical smirk. “This town and its ridiculous obsession with the holidays. It’s too much. It’s all too much.”
Maria took a step closer. “Please don’t let today be the reason you leave,” she murmured.
“It’s not today. It’s everything.” Words that had been bottled up for years poured out. “I don’t want to be here. I’m tired of feeling stuck. I don’t want to settle for life in Lanford Falls and getting roped into fifty more Winter Wonderfests. You’re all better off without me. You’re better off without me.”
“That’s so not true.” Hurt colored Maria’s voice.
“It is,” Bailey stated. “You don’t want to hear it, but it is. You don’t need me in your life. You deserve so much better than me. I’m only going to give you grief.”
Maria gripped her arm. “Oh, Bailey, no …”
“And I deserve better than this damn town. I’m just …” She pulled away. “I’m just done.”
“With everything?” Maria’s eyes sparkled with tears. “With me?”
“Be done with me. You don’t need me. I’m not this great person you’ve built up in your head. I’m pretty terrible.”
She hated pushing her away, but it was the only way to rid Maria of her fantasies of them living happily ever after.
Maria dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. “You’re being kind of terrible right now.”
“It’ll only get worse the longer I stay here.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re settling for me.”
“I don’t want that, either,” Bailey said, truly meaning it. “Nobody should ever settle for you.”
“Agreed.” Maria looked up with such sadness in her eyes. “Then you should go.”
Bailey took a few steps. She paused, desperate to turn, to take back the pain she’d caused. But no. It was for Maria’s own good. She needed to be free. They both needed to be free.
Her pace quickened until she was all but sprinting toward the parking lot. She was so tired of feeling responsible for everyone else’s happiness.
She reached where the municipal vehicles were parked. Got into the cold pickup truck. It smelled like gas and oil and dirt.
“This is what you get,” she muttered to herself. “You screw up, you deal with the consequences.”
The engine sputtered to life. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” blared through the speakers. “No way, Andy Williams,” she said, and turned the radio off.
Traffic had backed up along Main Street, so she crawled out of the lot. The sidewalk along the village green was crowded. Maria wasn’t among them.
A wave of nausea crashed over her. Poor Maria. She only wanted to bring joy and happiness to Bailey’s dreary existence.
“You don’t deserve her. Adorable Christmas elf with a smile that lights up the whole town.” She sat back in the worn driver’s seat. “I’m gonna get out of here so she can find someone who treats her right. She deserves it.”
Maria had broken her heart once. Now Bailey was doing it. Liking one another inevitably led to heartbreak.
She inched past the busy storefronts. The shoppers laden with bags. The excitement of the holidays bursting from every nook and cranny, every smile on every face. She wanted to block it all out.
Twinkle lights glistened outside George Family Homes. Crummy old George Family Homes. It was dark inside, since everyone was at the festival or doing something with loved ones. Hell, even Uncle Bill was enjoying the day.
“You’ve been my prison long enough,” Bailey told her office.
Her heart pinched. That was so unfair. She’d made the choice to stay and honor Dad’s legacy. Made the choice to stay and help with the Wonderfest this week.
“I’m making a new choice.” She stopped at the last four-way intersection in town. “All sorts of new choices, just for me and Lulu.”
The dog park was mostly empty. Dad’s park. He would’ve loved it.
The car in front of her stopped short. She slammed on the brakes and pounded the steering wheel. “Come on, dude.”
She craned her neck to see that outbound traffic was backed up. “Well, sure. Everyone’s leaving Winter Wonderfest because it’s a craptacular disaster.”
There was almost no movement toward the main road that led to the highway. “Screw this.”
She checked the oncoming lane before pulling out. She’d back-road it to the rental center.
She passed James George Park. Turned down the road that led to the old wooden bridge.
Did the heat work in this friggin’ pickup? It was freezing. She fiddled with the controls. Seriously, was it broken?
A flash of movement caught her eye. She swerved to avoid a squirrel trotting across the road. The truck skidded and fishtailed and drove straight into a ditch.
The impact shook her hard.
She sat with her hands on the steering wheel for several long, slow moments.
“Jesus,” she whispered, pulse hammering in her ears.
Hand shaking, she rolled down the window to inspect the damage. The ditch wasn’t that deep, but it was packed with plowed snow on the far side.
She carefully put the truck in reverse. It rocked in place. She tried to ease it forward. The tires spun in the snow.
She tried to reverse-then-forward a couple more times. “I’m probably making it worse, because I make everything worse.”
She got out of the truck. Not only was it stuck in the ditch, but the tires had created four deep mud ruts. “Great. Just great.”
She stomped around the pickup, hands fisting in mounting anger. Yeah, she’d done a fantastic job lodging the tires in good.
“Nice work, Bailey. Way to make this day even worse. Ugh!”
She kicked the rear tire. Then set her foot straight into a mucky mush of muddy snow.
“Uugghh.”
She tried to pull it out. Her other boot slipped, and she landed on her butt in the snow. The hem of her tan coat dropped into the muck.
“Uuuggghhh.”
Now both rubber boots were full of muck. She struggled out of the mud only to flop face-first into the tightly packed snow.
“Uuuugggghhhh!” she screamed into the snow.
Her palms chilled clear through as she pushed herself up. She trudged onto the street, brushing snow off her scarf. “This is literally getting worse by the second. My boots! My coat! Ugh!”
She stomped at the slime coating her navy blue boots. Her poor wool coat was saturated in several dark, muddy spots.
“Now I have to call someone to get unstuck so I can get the goddamn pole and fix the goddamn tent and uuuggggghhhh, goddammit!”
She wrestled with her coat pocket until her phone was free. Two texts from Mom and one from Hannah sat onscreen, but she ignored them.
“You know what I should be doing? I should be replying to Sammie’s work person email. Tell them to sign me up. I’ll be in Brooklyn come hell or high water or muddy ditches.”
She clicked on her email.
An error has occurred. Please try again.
She refreshed her account, but got the same error message.
“Fine,” she told the uncooperative device. “I’ll call for help first if that’ll make you happy. But then I’m sending that email.”
Her eyes grazed over the top corner of the screen. No bars. No hint of a wireless network.
No service.
“Why is there no service? There’s always service here.”
She glanced around as dusk settled over the open land, the evergreens. Lanford Creek burbled up ahead.
“Seriously, phone, we are not in the middle of nowhere.”
She turned it off, waited ten seconds, then turned it on again.
Still no service.
“This is …” She shook her head in utter disbelief. “I’m losing my mind. It’s like I’m cursed.”
She marched down the side of the road, holding her phone high. No bars.
Might as well trek to the creek. She’d never had problems getting reception there during Beautification Committee events.
She reached the small gravel lot. No bars. Walked around, staring at her phone. Wandered in a circle. Wandered back and forth.
No. Freaking. Bars.
Lanford Creek whooshed up ahead, and an owl hooted in the nearby trees. Nobody was around to flag down. At this rate, she should just walk back to town for help.
“What the hell,” she muttered, and headed for the bridge.
THE ANGELS
Gabriella parked the RV behind the abandoned pickup truck. Clara sat at the table, intently watching Bailey on TV. She was pacing around a little gravel parking lot.
Gabi cut the engine to keep things on the down-low. Jovi tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Boy, Mother, you said anything can happen today,” she said while chewing. “But this … Ay, Dios mío.”
“What a difference a day makes,” Gabriella said. She joined them to watch the action.
Clara was still processing how Bailey had gone from talking about having Maria over for dinner and “dessert” to running off. It looked like not even love could keep her in Lanford Falls now.
“That poor woman,” she said. “It’s been one thing after another.”
Jovi gestured at Clara with a piece of popcorn. “The tree fiasco could’ve been prevented.”
“It could have been corrected.” Clara glared at her drag mother and sister. “Either one of you could’ve blown the tree into position before it fell.”
“The way you were waving it around, it might have swung back and fallen on the crowd,” Jovanna said.
She had a point. Still … “We could’ve turned the electricity back on.”
“They got it working.”
Gabriella squinted at the TV screen. “We needed to see how Bailey would react to the situation. Well, situations.”
Clara dropped her arms on the table. “Her reaction was to flip out on the one person keeping her here.”
“And then drive all wild and plop in the mud. That was pretty funny.” Jovanna chuckled, then sobered when Gabriella shot her a look.
“You’re preventing her phone from working,” Clara said. “I know you are, Gabi. Don’t pretend like you’re not.”
Her mother gave a dainty shrug. “She can’t do that job interview. That’s not where her destiny lies.”
“Right now, her destiny’s lying in a ditch.” Clara nodded toward the pickup truck.
“Her destiny’s not the truck. It’s the town.”
“She’s suffered enough, Mother. She needs help. Real help. No more nudges.”
