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"The best vantage point to oversee things, you'd have to agree."
"I would?"
"Without the demands of memorizing lines. I a.s.sume you wouldn't want that?"
"Demands? No, I prefer to avoid demands whenever possible."
"So, it's the Innkeeper's Wife, then?"
"For?"
"You, Hannah. That or Stable Man-Stable Person, I guess, in your case."
Stable Person. She supposed she should consider it a kind of compliment that someone would string those two words together to refer to her. Even if that person was using that string to tie her into knots! "Reverend Tappin, surely you're not asking me to-"
"Take charge of the children's Christmas pageant. Yes, Hannah, it's yours if you want it."
"But after the redecorating-the chaos, the confusion, the cost-only to end up looking just like it did before I started." She flattened her hand against the shadow of an elephant's face lurking beneath her meticulous Eggsh.e.l.l surface. "Don't you think that shows...something?"
"Indeed I do."
She exhaled in grat.i.tude.
"It shows that you can handle stressful situations."
"I don't think so."
"And cope with childish behavior."
"Uh-uh!"
He laughed, and with one fell swoop whisked his hair back into place. Unruffled. The word fit him at this moment in more ways than one as he said, "Hannah, you don't have to do this."
"Oh." He didn't want her? "Uh, thank you."
"After all, Jacqui and Cydney are probably free."
She gave him a sidelong glance.
No, he wouldn't guilt her into rus.h.i.+ng to the rescue.
Not this time.
Really.
"I'd only make a mess of it."
"I seriously doubt that, Hannah, but if you don't feel led to partic.i.p.ate this year, we understand."
"We" again. Suddenly she got it. We-the church, her community, people who looked to her to pull her weight around this place.
"I'm so sorry. But Sam and Tessa, you know, they need me."
"Of course." He gave her a quick pat on the back, turned and in pa.s.sing wrapped one knuckle on the freshly painted wall. "You're right. This covered the old stuff perfectly. Great choice."
Don't you dare.
She clenched her jaw and watched the stout fellow striding down the hallway away from her.
"The kids need me," she called after him. "Everyone is counting on me. If I thought my family could spare me for the time it would take to do it up right, I'd go for it." She snapped her fingers. "Like that."
"Then do it." Payt's hand closed over her raised hand.
"Wha-Payt!" She spun around and b.u.mped heads with her sweet but sneaky hubby.
"Ow." He plastered his hand across his forehead.
She did likewise. "Serves you right for creeping up the back stairs to scare me like that. What are you doing here?"
"Arriving in the nick of time, apparently."
"To do what?"
"To make sure you don't miss out on doing whatever you were just shouting about."
"Running the Christmas pageant."
"Perfect."
"How so?"
"Because you are bright, talented and great with kids."
"Oh, yeah, great with feeding them junk food and getting it all over the house and even getting part of the house in the junk food."
"Hannah..."
"Yeah, yeah, listen to myself. I heard. Now you you listen to me, Bartlett. I told Reverend Tappin I can't do the pageant because I have to take care of my own kids." listen to me, Bartlett. I told Reverend Tappin I can't do the pageant because I have to take care of my own kids."
"Then take care of them-and take them with you."
"Payt, I..." She let her voice trail off and she shook her head.
"Give Sam a part."
She froze midshake.
"Given the size of your talent pool, every kid in the church will have a part, right?"
"I suppose they'd have to, except the babies like Tessa. Wait a minute, where is Tessa?"
"Mrs. Tappin grabbed her from me the second I hit the door. Sam went over to Stilton's. All kids accounted for, so you can take a break from worrying."
"Oh." Take a break from worrying? Had the man lost his mind?
"Put the kids out of your thoughts."
He was out of his mind.
"And answer this one question for me."
"Answer a question? That I can do."
"This pageant thing, you wouldn't start working on it right away, would you?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because I have a project I want you to start first."
"What?"
"A second honeymoon."
"Miami!"
"Yes! Mi-how'd you know that?"
"Oh, Payt, sometimes you can be such a man man."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you made these plans, and it never occurred to you that while you might be able to keep a secret from your wife, you could never keep one from your cleaning lady."
"You saw the notation on my desk."
"And it's been killing me not to tackle you, hold you down and make you tell me about it."
"Really?" He arched an eyebrow. "Maybe I'll just keep the details to myself a little longer then."
She cuddled close to his side and kissed his cheek. "Behave now. We're in church."
"Okay." He held up his hands. "I'm the picture of chaste restraint. For now." He winked. "So, what do you say? Do you want to go to Miami?"
"Want to? Have Have to. All my life I've waited for this, for someone to come along and fly me away. But...." to. All my life I've waited for this, for someone to come along and fly me away. But...."
"No buts. Whatever your reservations, we'll work them out."
Miami. Just like the paint she'd used to cover up the mess and mistakes she'd allowed to happen in this room, this trip would help her create a clean slate.
"Hannah? Hannah, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking..." She threw her arms around her husband and said, "I think it's perfect."
She sniffled and blinked the tears from her eyes just as she noticed the faint outline of Noah's Ark beneath the coat of Eggsh.e.l.l.
CHAPTER 15
Subject: Nacho Mama's House column To:
Sam is on a mission, The dog is under the bed.
Tessa is in the laundry basket.
And I'm in over my head.
La la.
No, not really. I haven't actually gone off the deep end-yet. But the Christmas pageant planning committee doesn't meet for another two weeks, so give me time!
That's not a complaint. Or a prediction. In fact, for the first time in quite a while, I can honestly say that getting dragged into another responsibility I'll likely mess up has definitely had some positive effects.
For one thing, it's Christmastime in the Bartlett household. Too early for most reasonable people, I realize, though you'd never know it by the store displays of trees and plastic light-up yard figures! But how can I complain when my son, who until now had a pretty shaky grasp on the miracle of Christ's birth, suddenly started practicing all the parts of the Nativity story that might be played by a little boy equipped with a terry-cloth head covering and his father's striped bathrobe?
Moreover, Sam wants to include the whole household in this newfound wonder, from Squirrelly Girl (thus the hiding, because fawn-colored greyhounds are just one sweat jacket-properly stuffed and cinched on to form a hump-away from looking like perfect camels, you know) to Tessa. Yes, my lavender-colored laundry basket is now a makes.h.i.+ft manger bed.
I guess the cliche should embarra.s.s me but there really is nothing like seeing Christmas through a child's eyes. My child's eyes.
Sappy, huh?
Well, we're all allowed our moments. Especially around this place, where nothing seems to hold that sweet sentiment for long.
NOTE TO SELF: FINISH COLUMN BEFORE SENDING "Oh, no you don't!" Hannah reached down into the laundry basket to retrieve something black-and-white and dripping in baby drool. "Sam, did you give your little sister a dog toy to chew on?"
"Yes!" he called from inside Payt's walk-in closet, where he'd gone to plumb the depths for a silk necktie. Silk neckties, he informed her, make awesome sashes.
"Squirrelly's toy is the only thing that'll quiet her down!" he hollered loud and clear.
He had a point. Even now the baby, who moments ago had lain there contentedly gnawing on the rubber toy made to look like a rolled-up newspaper, coughed and sputtered like an outboard motor gearing up to roar.