Page 35 of Not Another Christmas Movie

“Nick!” Bailey called, running over to them, all trace of her earlier elf costume gone. “Annie, you’re here too?” Bailey asked, barely looking at Annie before giving Nick all of her attention. “Oh, Nick, thank you so much for coming, you’re always such a blessing,” Bailey cooed. “I’ll be taking over as stage manager, but you’ll be fully in charge of all the tech stuff, of course. We’ll be working side by side. Let me show you the booth first and then I’ll take you backstage to see the set pieces.” Bailey finished, taking Nick’s arm and leading him away. Annie gave Nick a pointed glare, reminding him to get going on his almost-kiss mission.

“Hi, Miss Annie,” a small voice said. Annie looked down to see Holly. She was wearing a green corduroy dress with a headband in the same color. Okay, maybe this is what she needed, the time to charm the mysterious child so she could lure her dad to an almost kiss … Yeah, that didn’t sound like a creepy fairy tale villain at all.

“Oh, hi, Holly, how’s it hanging?” Annie laughed nervously.

“Hanging? You mean the mistletoe?” Holly asked in a confused tone.

“How are you?” Annie asked instead. “Did you enjoy ice-skating?”

“I had an enchanting time,” Holly smiled. “And I’m ever so pleased to make your acquaintance again, Miss Annie.”

“Err, okay. Cool, cool,” Annie said, looking around for Chris. She wanted to make sure her efforts with Holly were not going unnoticed.

“Do you want to see the costumes?” Holly asked.

“Will your dad be joining us?” Annie tried.

“He’s about to start warm-ups,” Holly said, taking Annie’s hand in hers and leading her to a room behind the stage. It was a strangely intimate moment holding this little child’s soft hand, like Holly’s fingers were embracing a tiny piece of her heart that Annie hadn’t been aware of until now. Stop that, Annie thought, that’s got to be the made-for-TV movie brain hard at work and I can’t afford to be so susceptible to its powers.

When Annie walked into the costume room, she nearly lost her breath at its depth. The walls were lined with rows of shiny silver clothing racks full of pristine pieces arranged firstly by item type and then by color. Annie spun around to get a 360 view of the space, yearning for a soundtrack to instigate her own trying-on-costumes montage, her fingers already twitching to touch every item.

“Do you like it, Miss Annie?” Holly asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Annie answered with genuine affection. “It’s all so beautiful.”

“I’m sure you must see a lot of impressive clothing in your big-city fashion job,” Holly said shyly.

“I do indeed work with a lot of, um, impressive items,” Annie admitted, thinking of one of their more memorable customers who sought out underwear specifically worn while their owner competed in local baking competitions, asking that the pair please be packaged with some sort of used cooking utensil. It’s always bread week somewhere, Annie thought before returning to Holly, unwilling to go into the nuances of her job with this small child. “So what exactly do you guys need my help with here?”

“We need to ensure everyone has the proper costume. Here’s the cast list and what each character should be wearing in each scene,” Holly said, handing over a neat and color-coded tabbed binder.

“Got it,” Annie said. “So I can go through what we have here and help organize some options. Then I’ll pull kids individually to confirm things fit before setting the rack.”

“Wow,” Holly whispered in complete awe.

“What?” Annie asked.

“You’re so professional, Miss Annie. You know how to do everything,” Holly marveled.

“I think you’re giving me way too much credit,” Annie smiled and hid her reddening face behind a rack of tweed jackets.

“We’re so happy to have you and Mr. Nick here, helping us,” Holly said. “And I know my dad is really, really glad you’re here, Miss Annie.” Annie looked back at Holly and she was giving her a significant stare. It made Annie’s insides squirm, unsure what to say—was this kid going to be her wing-woman? Annie brought her hands into two waving big thumbs-up and grinned at Holly.

“I am happy to be here,” Annie said, sort of like a robot that had been programmed to say that. Holly didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks for showing me around. Will your dad come to check in on things back here soon?” Annie asked awkwardly, still feeling icky about trying to use Holly to lure Chris within kissing distance as soon as possible.

“I’ll run along and check!” Holly beamed and returned to rehearsal, leaving Annie with a moment to further inspect the racks of impeccable, child-sized garments. She found herself escaping into a cloud of relaxation as she examined her list and started organizing the pieces, her thoughts never returning back to Chris or his whereabouts.

Instead, her trail of concentration found a path back to her grandparents. It was something about the warmth and the scent combination that brought her right back to their house. Annie’s eyes prickled like they always did when she thought of them, and her heart squeezed with feeling. It had been over sixteen years now since their deaths, but their absence still ached in Annie’s bones. They had loved the holiday season, more than anyone else she had ever met. Her grandfather’s love of Christmas had been contagious, a pillar for their whole family’s relationship with the yearly celebration. When her grandmother passed first, the magic and joy of the holidays had been in jeopardy of vanishing like the smoke from a forgotten fire, but her grandfather had emptied his grief into keeping the Christmas spirit alive. For all of them. Up until his last breath.

Normally, when her brain tried to replay memories of her grandparents, she’d do everything she could to stop them in their tracks. It felt too emotionally risky given how much she had adored them and how hard she tried to work daily to silence the ache of their absence. But there was a strange safeness working alone in this warm haven that disarmed her, and Annie allowed herself to recall the day her grandfather had moved into their family home, shortly after her grandmother’s passing.

He’d only had about two suitcases worth of clothing, toiletries, and trinkets of his past eighty-plus years, but his Christmas menagerie had required the rental of a small U-Haul. Her parents had humored him, partially to ease their own grief and wanting to do everything in their power to lessen his, and Annie had made it her mission to make sure every item her grandfather wanted made it safely from his home and found a space in hers. The act of moving her body with a purpose kept the tears at bay and, even in her teenage state, she built a wall around her true feelings, broadcasting a strong presence to the world. Only her grandfather could see right through her, crack her open, and delicately nurture the pieces back together. In the handful of months they had spent living under the same roof, he had taken care of Annie in ways she hadn’t realized until he too was gone, the void he left behind excruciating and endless.

When the first knock came from a child waiting to solidify their character’s look, Annie blinked, wondering how long she had been in this room and if she could take that kind of incredible professional focus back with her to the real world forever.

Like she suspected, even after years of claimed use, the pristine costumes fit and flattered each child like they had been created just for them. Annie merely hung the pieces on new hangers and made labels with each character’s name and scene. She also helped to create an established prop table, outlining each prop with masking tape so that it had a defined place to go when it wasn’t onstage. It had been a small idea borrowed from the limited theatrical experience she had endured in school, but, boy oh boy, the praise was endless. Annie had to turn a blind eye when she caught Chris flagrantly blubbering at the back of the auditorium, a handmade handkerchief dancing around his face. Everyone was so dang grateful to have her there, and it made her uncomfortable because it didn’t feel genuinely earned.

“Have they all been seen? The kids will be reviewing their songs,” Bailey said once Annie had finished meeting all of the characters on her list.