Page 89 of The Christmas Keepsake
At what would not have been possible without Hollis.
She swallowed hard, wishing he were here. She wished Nan were here too. And Maddie. Scanning the crowd, she blinked and wondered if she was hallucinating. But no, there in the back of the barn was her sister, wheeling herself down the aisle with Sam at her side.
Mallory squealed softly and slipped out from behind the curtain to make her way to her sister before the show. “Maddie? I didn’t think you’d be here.”
Maddie offered back a hesitant smile. “That’s my fault for letting you even think that. I’ve kind of been working my way out of a dark spot.” She glanced at her husband. “Not alone. Sam and Renee have been helping me.”
“So I hear. How are those big plans you were telling me about coming along?”
“Stalled. We’re looking for a location. The one we had in mind fell through.” She frowned momentarily. “But we’ll figure it out. You aren’t the only one with ambition,” Maddie teased.
Mallory didn’t think she had as much ambition as she once had, but that was okay. “Well, if you get some time, I want to tell you what I’ve learned from reading Nan’s journal.”
Maddie nodded. “I’d like that.” She held out a bouquet of flowers. “Now, go break a leg.”
Mallory accepted the flowers. “Funny. Nan just said the same thing to me about an hour ago. You’re a lot like her, you know.”
“Me?” Maddie looked surprised. “I always thought it was you who had a special connection with Nan. She liked to say I reminded her of our mom.” Maddie grimaced. “I’m not sure if that was an insult or a compliment.”
“Compliment,” Mallory assured Maddie, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “The best kind.”
Mallory leaned down, enveloping her sister in a tight hug. She didn’t want to let go because she missed Maddie so much these days, but she had to. It was almost time for the curtains to open. “I’ll see you after?”
Maddie nodded. “Break two legs,” she called as Mallory headed toward the backstage, her heart lighter than it’d been in days. “We can get matching wheelchairs for a while.”
Mallory felt her eyes go wide.
“Laughter is better than tears.”
“True.” With a wave, Mallory headed back toward the side of the makeshift stage. “There’s our leading lady,” one of the cast called.
Mallory glanced around. Everyone was here except Hollis. A pang of sadness hit her, but she pushed it aside. “All right, everyone,” she said, her voice steady and clear. “This is it. Nan wrote this play with love and laughter, and that’s exactly what we’re going to bring to the stage tonight. “Evan,” she said, addressing the newestcast member, “you’ve stepped up in a big way, and we’re all grateful. Just remember, we’ve got your back out there.”
He nodded. “I’ll do my best not to make a fool of myself.”
“If you mess up, I solemnly promise to throw myself off the stage to divert the attention,” she said, remembering when Hollis had said the same to her just a couple of weeks ago.
He looked horrified. “Don’t do that. I’ll survive any embarrassment.”
She laughed. “We’ve all got your back. Right, everyone?”
The group agreed.
“Okay. Let’s do this!” Mallory called, pulling in a deep breath.
As the curtain rose and the familiar opening notes of the opening song filled the air, Mallory stepped onto the stage. The lights were blindingly bright, but as she adjusted, she looked out at the audience, a sea of expectant faces. All of them were used to attending Nan’s plays at the theater. Tonight would be different, but she hoped they’d all enjoy the show.
Taking a deep breath, she channeled the love and passion Nan had poured into this play, year after year.
Mallory’s nerves settled as soon as she delivered her first line. The freedom of being onstage in front of a live audience reminded her just how exhilarating it was. Acting really did feel like flying. Then she blinked and her mind froze midsentence. Was that Hollis? Was this an illusion? Wishful thinking maybe?
No. He’d told her he wasn’t coming, and she was pretty sure he’d meant it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Unless the theatre can ennoble you, make you a better person, you should flee from it.
—Constantin Stanislavski
