Page 25 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“Don’t be. I’m fine. I’m the parent, remember?”
“I can’t stand the idea of you sitting by yourself eating baked beans on toast for Christmas dinner.”
“I promise I won’t eat baked beans for Christmas dinner.”
“I just want you to take as much care of yourself as you take of other people.”
As an independent woman with a solid career, a comfortable home and fifteen years’ successful single parenting in the bank, Harriet had always considered that she took rather good care of herself, but these last few weeks had given her pause.
By the week after Maisy had left, she’d lost the will to plump the cushions on the sofas and even her bed, and she had always prided herself on her cushion plumping. Suddenly all the things she’d done daily for decades seemed pointless and she’d realized that she’d built her home almost entirely around her daughter’s needs: the soft throws in the basket by the fire for when Maisy wanted to snuggle under a blanket and watch telly, the constantly brimming biscuit barrel for when Maisy got peckish, the posh bottles of bubble bath for when Maisy wanted a hot soak in the tub. Without Maisy there to enjoy it, it was simply staging.
Harriet smiled. “You don’t need to worry about me, love. Honestly, I’m fine. But you’re right, this community thing will be good for me, and it’ll be good for the students—they just don’t know it yet.”
The FaceTime ended and in the silence her world became two-dimensional again, her sitting room flattened like a photograph in a magazine.
No!She stood and brutally chopped two of her cushions into plumped perfection.I will not wallow.If anything, it was for the best that Maisy was away, because Harriet was going to be busier than ever this Christmas.I will agree to Ms. Bossy-Knickers’s unreasonable demands, and I will create a safe space for the youth of Little Beck Foss, whether she likes it or not.With a simple twist of her fingers, she deadheaded her orchid on the way to the kitchen and flicked an errant baked bean out of her cleavage and down the plug hole from ten paces. She nodded, satisfied. She was going to boss the schnitzel out of this thing!
Nine
“You want us to what?”
“No! No no no. Not gonna happen. No.”
“I can’t even look at you right now, miss.”
“What have you got us into? You’re supposed to be the adult. This is some childish BS happening right now and I am not equipped for it.”
“H to the E to LL, NO!”
The disgruntled students were crammed into Harriet’s broom cupboard of an office. Outrage was thick in the air. She’d lured them away from the canteen at breaktime with offers of takeout gingerbread lattes and toasties, which had cost her a small fortune. Unfortunately, not even barista coffee and grilled cheese was enough to disguise the poop sandwich she was serving them as the main course. When bribery had failed, she’d tried appealing to their interests, but they still regarded her with suspicion. Ali was sitting in, mostly for moral support, but thus far he’d barely been able to get a word in sideways.
“The part about having somewhere to hang out is good,” said Leo in his usual diplomatic way. “I like the sound of the book club, and, Carly, you’d be great in a glee club.” Carly shrugged but accepted the compliment. “But putting on a play, in front of people, well, that’s…”
“Crap on a cracker, with a side order of crap and a big fat crap shake to wash it all down,” finished Ricco. He was wearing cerise eye shadow today, which was a tough shade to manage, but he pulled it off.
“You are actual drama students!” Harriet huffed. “How can you be so against the idea of performing?”
“I took drama to learn about the writing process, not to be an actor,” said Billy.
“I’m not afraid of the stage,” Carly said, looking at her nails. “I like performing, but I don’t like being made to look like a dick, and this sounds like it’s going to make us look like dicks in front of the whole town.”
She made a good point.
“And how are we supposed to learn a whole play in five weeks?” asked Isabel.
“You won’t need to learn it; you already know it.” This was her trump card. “We’ll doA Christmas Carol.”
Ricco sighed dramatically.
“Oh my god! This is why you should never talk to teachers like they’re actual people!”
Harriet couldn’t help but laugh. “But youdoknow the text. Between you, you’ve studied the book and the stage play. That’s half the battle won.”
“You see!” said Ricco, gesticulating wildly. “Evil, I tell you!”
“We do know it, though,” Leo piped up.
“Whose side are you on?” Ricco asked him.
