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“How many of you are going to go to the Hollygrove Christmas Festival this weekend?” Brad asked.
All hands rocketed through the air. Brad laughed, making a mental note to tell Maya how important their work was to twenty-four kids. They couldn’t let them down.
Brad breezed through the first few hours of school. They started with arithmetic, had a spelling test, played a spelling game, and even learned a bit of Spanish. When the bell rang for lunch, they lined up and headed toward the lunchroom quietly. They knew Brad would give them a treat after lunch if they kept quiet. It was manipulative, maybe, but Brad had told them they needed to respect each other. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your respect for me,” he’d said.
In the lunchroom, Rainey and a few of the other teachers stood along the wall, their arms folded over their chest. Like most elementary schools, Hollygrove Elementary had mostly female teachers. The only other man taught sixth grade and often made excuses to get out of lunch duty because he taught things like Science Club and Chess Club.
“It’s just like you said, Rainey,” one of the teachers, Mrs. Nelson, was saying. Her tone was breathy, but she was loud enough for Brad to hear from seven feet away. “Principal Rodgers looks insane in that sweater.”
“Right? It’s so tacky,” Rainey whispered back.
“She looks like a doily,” Mrs. Nelson snorted.
“Yes! I mean, can you imagine what her husband was thinking when she got dressed this morning?” Rainey asked.
Brad winced. He couldn’t remember what Principal Rodgers had been wearing when he’d seen her that morning. She’d smiled at him warmly; she’d come to school to do her job and serve the community and its children. Why wasn’t that enough for people like Rainey? Why did she have to pick her apart?
“Did you see it, Brad?” Rainey asked. There was that smile again. She wanted to lure him in.
“I didn’t, no,” Brad said.
Mrs. Nelson cackled. “You have to see it, Brad. Make an excuse and go to the office later.”
Brad wanted to reprimand them, to tell them gossiping was the worst possible thing to do in front of the students. But just then, a kid to his left spilled an entire carton of chocolate milk all over himself and burst into tears. Brad jumped to action, grateful to leave Rainey and Mrs. Nelson to their gossip.
In the bathroom, Brad helped the little kid clean up and returned him to the lunchroom, where Rainey and Mrs. Nelson were reprimanding a little girl in tones he felt were obscenely harsh. The little girl was pink-cheeked and embarrassed, clutching her lunch bag to her chest. He had the sudden urge to yell at Rainey, to ask her what her deal was. But he knew what it meant to get on her bad side. Rainey had it out for several other teachers at the elementary school. She’d made it so hard on Mrs. Shean that she’d asked to switch to the middle school; she’d driven Mrs. Faulkner to therapy. “Why does she still have that job?” Thaddeus DeWitt had asked once, genuinely confused. And Brad had said: “It’s hard to find teachers in such a small and rural community. We can’t afford to fire anyone. Not even someone as cruel as Rainey.”
ChapterFive
Maya didn’t leave her room at the bed and breakfast till one. She’d missed breakfast and hadn’t bothered with lunch. But the hours alone, drenched in the sunlight that poured in through the bed and breakfast windows, had done her good. Her thoughts flowed freely; she’d journaled for a bit, writing notes about food she’d eaten and cooked and gorgeous dining experiences she’d had. And she was beginning to feel that she’d officially left Nick in her rearview mirror. The distance from the city was like filling her lungs with fresh air. Was it possible that Nick— and New York City— had never been good for her, after all? It was difficult to wrap her mind around that, especially given all she’d done to make it work.
“Hey!” Tom was downstairs on a living room couch. Before him, fire licked the stones in the fireplace. He had his laptop on his lap, and his hair was wild and ruffled, as though he tugged on it as he concentrated.
“Hey there. Are you working on your screenplay?”
Tom shook his head. “I was. But now, I’m doing a deep search into the history of Hollygrove. I want to figure out who Sarah’s family is. Maybe they can help me find her.”
“You’re a romantic, Tom,” Maya said with a smile. Secretly, she hoped Sarah wouldn’t think Tom was too creepy for going to such dramatic ends to find her. Tom seemed innocent and charming. She didn’t want the cruelty of the world to affect him just yet.
“Felicity said there’s food for you in the kitchen,” Tom announced. “She didn’t want to bother you.”
Maya thanked Tom and entered the kitchen to find fresh croissants with jam and camembert cheese, fresh fruit, and oatmeal if she wanted it. Felicity had left a note on the kitchen table that said: “Feel free to make yourself some eggs and bacon, honey. Everything is in the left drawer in the refrigerator.”
Maya opted for a croissant with jam and camembert— an indulgence she ordinarily didn’t allow herself— and made a few notes in her journal about the texture of the bread, the tartness of the jam, and the rankness of the cheese: “the stinkier the cheese, the better.” She then leaned against the kitchen counter and called Phoebe, whom she caught on her way back from a run.
“How is it?” Phoebe was breathless and excited.
“It’s nice. The bed and breakfast feels like it’s from a storybook. And the tiny town is really adorable.” Maya went on to explain Veronica’s will and Maya’s challenge to plan the Hollygrove Christmas Festival in less than a week. “It’s Monday,” she said, “and we have to have everything ready by Saturday.”
Phoebe stuttered. “Christmas Festival? Really?”
“I know.”
“I mean, did you tell them you don’t even celebrate Christmas?”
“The lawyer didn’t seem to care,” Maya said with a laugh. “I either plan the festival and get the inheritance, or I don’t plan the festival and don’t get the inheritance. It’s pretty simple.”
“I see.” Phoebe sounded worried.
