A Baxter Family Christmas Page 3
Connor watched his sister go. Bailey clearly loved this, her world revolving around CKT. Her life here was so much better than the craziness of Hollywood and the constant insanity of the paparazzi. Everyone knew Bailey and Brandon and their love story. How Brandon Paul, one of Hollywood’s top actors, stepped away from a life of fame to run CKT with his wife.
They’d been doing this for a few years now, and the business was thriving. Once in a while someone did a news feature on their new lives here in Bloomington. But for the most part Bailey and Brandon’s days were beautifully normal.
They were doing what they loved.
Connor reached the long judges’ table and took the spot in the middle, one seat away from the girl. She looked at him and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He returned the smile, his heartbeat doubled. “I’m Connor.”
She faced him. Her eyes were the most brilliant blue. “I’m Maddie.” She looked at the clipboard in front of her and then back at him. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
“Yeah. Me, either.” Connor laughed. “I used to be the one singing onstage. Did theater for years.”
“Really?” She looked nervous at the idea. “I dance. But I’d be scared to death to sing. Especially up there.”
“It isn’t so bad.” He leaned back in his chair and took in the sight of her. She looked like an angel, her hair falling in waves around her face. Focus, he told himself. “So . . . how’d you wind up here?”
“I’m trying to get into Indiana University’s teaching program.” She wore black jeans and a black turtleneck. Cashmere, maybe. “This internship could make the difference.”
If Connor hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed she’d spent most of her life starring on the stage. “How do you know Bailey?”
“I don’t.” The sound of a phone buzzing came from a nearby row of seats. “Sorry.” She hurried for her cell and took the call. Whoever it was, she clearly wanted her privacy. She turned her back to Connor and slowly walked toward the far wall of the building. Probably her boyfriend. Connor tried not to stare. Where had he seen her before?
The call didn’t last long. She breezed her way back to the table. “You were asking about Bailey. I mean, I know her because everyone knows about her and Brandon Paul.”
“True.” Connor grinned. “It’s just . . . I feel like we’ve met before. Did you go to Clear Creek High?”
“My cousins did.” She allowed a resigned laugh. “My parents weren’t comfortable with a big public school. My sister and I attend Greenbriar Academy across town.” A quiet beat filled the space between them. “Safe environment. Prep school. That sort of thing. A perfect choice for my overprotective parents.”
Her overprotective parents? Connor wanted to ask what she meant, but Bailey was headed their way from somewhere behind the stage.
“We found a new pianist.” His sister was happy but in a rush. “Doors open in ten minutes. Let’s run down the role of a judge. Ready?”
Her instructions brought him back to reality. “Definitely. Very ready.”
“Ready, too.” Maddie flashed him a smile. “Though I have no idea what’s coming.”
“Okay, here’s how it’ll go.” Bailey stood in front of the table as she explained the process. “The kids sign in at the back of the theater, where they each receive a number. Each child will have one minute to perform a song. The main thing is for us to be encouraging. This isn’t Fifteen Minutes.”
Connor contained his grin. His sister looked like a kid again, her long brown hair gathered in a ponytail, flying behind her. Just the way she used to look when the two of them spent year after year in this very theater, performing on this CKT stage.
Bailey was explaining the importance of writing notes during each child’s song. “Your scoring sheets have categories. Was the song on key? Did the performer know the words? Did they make eye contact? Were they confident? That sort of thing.” She folded her arms. She was breathless from talking so fast. “You’ll score each singer on a scale of one to ten . . . ten being the best.”
“And this blank section at the bottom of the sheet?” Maddie held up hers so Bailey could see it.
“Yes, good question.” Bailey put her hands on her hips. “You can write anything in that spot. Try to be specific, so we can remember the performance later when we choose who will get a callback, and eventually who will get cast.”
“Got it.” Maddie stared at the sheet and then at Connor and finally at Bailey. “Do we say anything?”
“No. Don’t worry about that.” Bailey grabbed her clipboard from the judges’ table. “That’s my part. I’ll call up each performer, help them with whatever they need through the audition, and thank them when they’re done.”
It was all coming back to Connor. Bailey made it sound easy. Audition day was always such a big deal when they were the performers. He remembered something else. “Tell her about the funny ones.”
“True.” Bailey smiled at Maddie. “A few of the kids are always funny. Some on purpose. Others because, well . . . this just isn’t their thing.” She shrugged. “Like I said, our job is to be encouraging. Keep it positive and lighthearted.” She hesitated. “And try not to laugh.”
“Perfect.” Maddie leaned on her elbows. “Connor will keep me in line. He knows the ropes.”
“Absolutely.” Connor felt the chemistry between them. How had they grown up in the same town and missed each other all these years?
Bailey seemed to watch the two of them a moment longer this time. Then she buzzed toward the back doors of the theater. “Deep breath. Here they come.”
As soon as the doors were open, more than a hundred kids burst into the auditorium and clamored for seats as close to the stage as possible. The energy was palpable, and again Connor remembered how it had been when he and Bailey were part of that group.
He leaned close to Maddie. “I still think you should’ve done CKT back in the day.”
“Yeah, sure.” Her eyes sparkled. “I would’ve been one of those kids everyone laughed at.”
“Hey! We didn’t laugh at anyone.” Connor sat up straight again. “At least not on the outside.”
Bailey had done this five times a year since she and Brandon took over the theater building. She easily organized the kids in groups of ten, and like that the auditions were under way. The first group sang fairly well. Connor noted that one of the boys would make a capable Charlie Brown. Two of them were at least good enough to sing in the ensemble.
After the tenth singer, Connor glanced at Maddie. “How’s it going?”
“I’m keeping up.” She winced. “Barely.”
The next group wasn’t as strong. Fourth up was a twelve-year-old kid in his soccer uniform. Probably trying to make it to an indoor practice after the audition.
“Okay, Garrett.” Bailey nodded to the accompanist. “Go ahead.”
If confidence were the only qualification, Garrett would easily win a lead part. He pushed his fingers through his blond hair and smiled. The music began and Garrett proceeded to sing “Ain’t Life Fine” from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.
His first crack came a few seconds in. The sound seemed to alarm him, but he kept singing. After that he cracked about every fifth note. At the judges’ table, the three of them maintained pleasant smiles, nodding along, believing the boy could rebound.
He never did.
Connor wasn’t even tempted to laugh. Poor kid. Every boy older than thirteen could relate to Garrett’s situation. Last week the kid probably could’ve handled the song. This week? Not a chance.
At the break between groups, Maddie cast him a pained look. “That boy. I wanted to go up there and give him a hug.”
“I know. Good for him for finishing.” Connor checked his notes. “He won’t get a callback, though. Out of kindness.”
“See, that’s what the directors would’ve said about me. ‘Don’t call her back. Out of kindness!’ ” She giggled as she locked eyes with him.
“Oh, really.” Her eyes danced. Her voice was flirty in a fun kind of way. “You and me?”
“Yes. Because we would’ve been best friends, Maddie.” He grinned. “Of course. From the first moment we met.”
“Of course.” Her eyes made him forget the auditions altogether. “I guess we’ll never know.”
The auditions continued, and Connor was surprised to see more talented kids than he’d expected. After they’d listened to the last singer, Connor patted his sister’s shoulder. “Gotta hand it to you, Bailey. You’ve built quite an army of performers here in Bloomington.”
Bailey laughed. “The weekly classes have made a difference. Brandon’s idea.”
“Where is he?” Maddie looked sheepish for asking. “I mean, he works here, too, right?”
“He does.” Bailey wasn’t bothered. She was clearly used to questions about her husband. “He’s in L.A. Producing a film on the apostle Paul. Brandon says it’s going to be epic.” She looked at her clipboard. “Let’s figure out who we’re calling back tomorrow.”
For the next two hours they narrowed down the list until they had eighty kids they wanted to see the next day. When they were finished, Bailey left to meet with her board of directors. Maddie had dinner plans with her family, and Connor had to get home to help his dad put together a new bookcase for the living room. Maddie was gathering her things, and again Connor couldn’t keep from watching her.
“You’re headed home, too?” She smiled at him. The connection from earlier was definitely still there.
“I am.” He stood and grabbed his coat. “Walk you to your car?”
She gave him a shy smile. “I’d like that.”
Outside the snow had stopped, but the ground was covered with a fresh six inches. “It’s beautiful.” Maddie lifted her face to the sky and breathed in. “I love winters in Indiana.”
Connor laughed. “I prefer summers, but this is pretty. Definitely.” He pulled his coat tighter around him. “So what do you want for Christmas, Maddie West?”
The snow was deep, so they walked slowly to her car. Connor was glad. He wished he had another hour with her, but at least he had this. She was quiet for a long moment. “This Christmas? Not the usual things.” Her eyes found his. “Actually . . . I’m praying for a miracle.”
He was touched by her honesty. “Really?”
“I know. It sounds cliché. Everyone wants a Christmas miracle.” They reached her car, covered in snow like the others around it.
“Here. I can help.” He used his bare hands to clear a part of the windshield.
“Were we expecting this much snow?” Maddie stepped in next to him and began brushing snow off the driver’s door. As she did, their arms touched a few times.
“I don’t think so.” Connor made another swipe at the snow and as he did, a fistful sprayed Maddie’s face.
“Hey!” She laughed and brushed it off her cheeks. She flicked some of it on him. “Be careful. I might not look like it, but I usually win every snowball fight!”
“Sorry.” Connor chuckled. He eased his cold fingers over her hair, clearing away the snow still there. “I’ll bet you do.”
The moment felt breathless and intimate and fun. Like something from a movie. She turned to him then, the mood suddenly deeper. Her eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen. “About my Christmas wish. It’s just . . . a lot’s happened to me. To my family. I’ve asked for a miracle before, but it hasn’t happened. This year . . . I guess I want to know God’s still there. You know?”
Connor did know. His family had been through tough times and more than once he had reached a point where he had asked God for a sign. “I get it.” His voice was quiet, their conversation muted by the stillness of the thick blanket of snow. “God doesn’t mind when we ask Him to show Himself. To make Himself real.”
“Yeah.” The corners of her lips lifted a little. “That’s it. Exactly.” She looked off, as if the details filling her heart were too great to share. At least for now. “My sister . . . she has health struggles.” Her eyes locked on Connor’s again. “I guess I always feel like it’s my fault.”
“I doubt that.” He wanted to hug her, but the timing was wrong. A few seconds passed, and Connor waited. He sensed there was more to this part of her story, but he didn’t want to push. Maybe in time she would trust him enough to go into detail. For now he was grateful she’d opened up to him at all.
“Well, I need to go.” She found her smile again. “Family dinner tonight.” She dabbed once more at her pretty face. “Tomorrow’s callbacks should be fun.”
“Definitely.” Now he hugged her, the sort of hug he’d give his sister. “Have fun with your family.”
“Thanks.” A shyness returned to her smile. “Nice meeting you, Connor.”
“You, too. One of these days we’ll have to have that snowball fight.” He took a step back. “Oh . . .” He felt his smile fade a bit. “And I’ll pray for your Christmas miracle. It’ll happen, Maddie. I believe that.”
Her smile warmed him to the core of his being. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Connor watched her start her car. With the deep snow, her tires spun for a few seconds before she got traction and drove away. Then he crossed the lot to his pickup. Never mind that winter was in full force and more snow was forecast in the coming days. As far as Connor was concerned it was blue skies and summertime.
All because of a girl named Maddie West.
CHAPTER THREE
Deep down, Kendra Bryant knew it wasn’t just the busy time of year that kept her husband, Moe, at work making calls late that Monday night. Moe worked at an accounting firm in downtown Lexington, Kentucky, and year-end tax planning took up most of his hours. But lately Moe seemed to find whatever excuse possible to stay away from home.
Away from her.
She sighed as she grabbed a box of ornaments from the basement closet and carried them up the stairs and into the living room. Their first Christmas as a married couple—eight years ago—they’d worked side by side setting up the Christmas tree and hanging the ornaments. Kendra had made hot chocolate and they’d strung popcorn to hang on the branches.
Like something out of a Christmas card.
Kendra pictured life would always be like that. Celebrating the holidays together, making time for traditions. Now she couldn’t remember the last time Moe had helped her put up the artificial tree. He would come home late tonight and barely notice the decorations at all.
What’s the point? She stopped and studied the bare tree. Ornaments and twinkling lights don’t make us a family.
Kendra pulled out her phone and tapped her Pandora app. It was still three days before Thanksgiving, but Kendra liked putting the tree up early. She chose a Christmas station. The familiar beautiful sounds swelled through their small house, and Kendra turned the volume up.
Just enough to lighten her mood.
The first song was “Silent Night.” Only instead of lightening the mood, the song gradually caused her to take a seat in the nearest chair. She and Moe were atheists. At least that’s what they told people. But the truth was they both had doubts. Times when they wondered if they were wrong about God. Maybe He did exist. But neither of them ever pursued the possibility. With the way Christianity was viewed in today’s culture, it was easier to simply not believe. Still, Kendra knew the words to “Silent Night.” The way everyone did.
Silent night . . . holy night . . . all is calm . . . all is bright.
Was that true? Were things ever really calm and bright?
Kendra stared out the window at the Christmas lights on the house across the street. Everyone was getting into the spirit early. Everyone but Moe. What’s wrong with us? The question wasn’t directed at anyone but herself. Somehow it had to be her fault. She was the one whose he
alth issues had consumed their marriage these last few years.
Kendra turned to the tree again. Something about the haunting melody took her back. Four years back . . . to the time when the virus first struck. Kendra had been completely healthy, a nurse at the local hospital. She and Moe were happy and talking about having children when one evening she spiked a fever. Highest fever Kendra had ever had.
It took her doctor a week to realize she had acute endocarditis. A raging infection in her heart. By then, the illness had done permanent damage. So much that she was given only a few years to live.
Even now Kendra couldn’t believe she could go from being so well to so deathly sick in such a short time. After her doctor put her on the heart transplant list, Kendra struggled to comprehend what had happened.
Maybe it was her sickness, or the uncertainty of her future . . . but whatever the reason, her relationship with Moe became strained. He stopped calling her on his breaks and coming home for the occasional lunch. Her heart left her unable to work more than two days a week, and with the extra time on her hands, Kendra noticed more keenly the sad differences in her marriage.
Before she got the call about the available heart, Kendra was pretty sure things with Moe were over. They hadn’t talked about getting a divorce. After all, Kendra was fading. Her doctor wasn’t sure if she had six months to live, so splitting up wasn’t a question. They were too consumed with her death to talk about anything else. But still they fought about money and how she could eat better to buy herself more time, how she wouldn’t be sick if she had done a better job taking care of herself. Kendra actually figured death would be a welcome reprieve.
Then the call came.
A heart was available. It had belonged to a woman killed in a car accident. Kendra tried not to think about that part as Moe rushed her to the hospital. And two weeks later she left with a new heart.
The heart of Erin Baxter Hogan.
For a time after the transplant, Kendra and Moe got along better than ever. Life felt new and fresh and well again, and that spilled over into their free time. Moe even sent a letter to John Baxter, the father of Erin, to tell him how thankful they were for Erin’s heart, and how her death had mattered.