Page 102 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

Why isn’t he here? It’s so odd that he was eager to see me last night but then said nothing about meeting me here today. I didn’t like to text him again though. Didn’t want to be the naggy woman asking for too much of his attention when he’s busy.

I look toward the road again. Still no sign of his SUV.

Oh, but that is Victor and someone in a long billowing coat next to him—has to be Divina—heading toward us.

My heart shrivels to the size of a dried prune.

Divina must want to meet the children. At least they’ve arrived just as we’re wrapping up. It would have been off-putting for the kids to have her here earlier. Plus I’m notsure if any of them knows who Al Pacino or Laurence Olivier is. Though I wouldn’t put it past Abigail.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” Prema cries, while unfurling an imaginary scroll.

Shit, yes. The scroll. Have to put that on the list of last-minute things I still need to make. But it’s okay. Today’s Saturday and we have until Thursday. It’s fine. Everything will be fine.

“We hear ye,” the townsfolk reply in unison—well, apart from Andreas who’s a bit behind and sounds more like an echo.

“Natalie,” Victor says, arriving by my side dressed as if he’s about to head to the North Pole. It’s not even that cold today, but you wouldn’t know it from the fur knee-high boots, bright white knee-length down-filled parka, and padded hat with ear flaps tied under his chin. “We’d hoped to catch you here.”

“Oh, this is so quaint!” Divina’s velvet coat would have fit right in with the medieval era I set the play in three years ago. It’s all royal blue velvet and crystal buttons, fitted to the waist and flaring below.

And is that…? Oh, dear God, it is. A feather attached to her orange hat. A large brown striped feather. Pheasant, maybe. And the hat is more beret than beanie, so more decorative than head-warming.

This pair looks like they’ve dressed for two entirely different weather patterns. And centuries.

“Oh, and the children,” Divina gushes, turning toward the pond and clapping her gloved hands together. The gloves are black and satin and appear to be completely bereft of any insulating qualities.

She looks like a cartoon villain who wants to eat the kids more thaneducate them.

The thought of this woman taking over my job makes my insides crawl. Either the children will hate her, or the older ones will make relentless fun of her. But whatever happens she won’t give them the fun experience they need, I’m sure of it.

“Good morning,” I say, balling my hands into tight fists inside my pockets, and return my attention immediately to the action on the pond where Prema is addressing the locals.

“So meet tonight, back here in the town square,” she reads loudly from her imaginary scroll. “And witness Sir Percival’s third and final attempt to win Wendolyn’s heart.”

“Ooo,” the townsfolk cry with eager anticipation as Prema mimes rerolling the scroll before gliding offstage to the side of the pond.

“Nice job, guys,” I call out, and give them a round of applause.

“Oh yes,” Victor says as he and Divina join in the clapping.

“Did you want to meet the children while you’re here, Divina?” I ask.

She waves her hand in front of her face as if swatting a fly. “Oh, that can wait,” she says, like the kids are a mere inconvenience in her job as opposed to actuallybeingher job.

I turn back to the children. “Okay, folks, you can go. See you back here same time tomorrow and we’ll do it again, but with the scenery this time.”

I need to find Gabe and get him to help me bring all that over tomorrow. Last year, Polly from the produce store was kind enough to lend me her adorable VW bus to transport some large props I’dpicked up at a garage sale, so I’ll ask her if I can borrow it again.

“And don’t forget to pick up your things from the bandstand.” I point to the pretty white-painted structure around the curve of the pond, where I had them leave their shoes, bags, drinks and snacks before we started.

“Well, we’re done for the day,” I tell Victor and Divina. “If you’d like to come back tomorrow you can see it looking a bit more put together.”

Divina’s grin widens but she says nothing.

“Divina will definitely be here tomorrow,” Victor says. “In fact, she’ll be taking over.”

My fingers suddenly go freezing cold despite being wrapped in thick gloves and inside my coat pockets.

Does he mean what it sounds like he means?“Taking over?”

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