The one thing I haven’t been able to do in my career is sing. Not because the opportunities haven’t presented themselves, but because I can’t carry a tune. I’m the world’s best singer in the shower, my car and even when I’m home alone and no one is around to hear me. I’ve been known to belt out a song or two with my friends in the car, despite the volume always seeming to be turned up louder. If that’s a sign I shouldn’t, I always miss it because in my mind, I’m that great. Ask anyone of my friends and they’ll tell you otherwise. I’m tone deaf, a lyrical screecher with a voice so bad I can break a vase. Not literally, but it’s been implied.

The sheet music reads like a jumbled mess. I don’t remember a thing from choir and each time Mrs. Winters looks over at me, I smile and continue to make my mouth move. Thankfully, the fifth grader I’m standing next to sings like Pavarotti and he’s making me sound amazing. Honestly, I’m not sure why Mrs. Winters has me standing with the choir because I won’t be performing, at least, I hope that’s not her plan.

When her hands finally come to rest, I drop my sheet music and move back to the other side of the room while she speaks with the students. “Let’s close the risers and get into character. Ms. Du Luca is going to take over from here.”

Finally, I think as I grab the script from my bag. I have it memorized, with each part tabbed with a different colored flag. I stayed up all night, reading and making slight changes, wanting this to be perfect.

Standing in front of a couple dozen students, all staring back at me, is worse than a stressful audition. Each one is focused, waiting for me to say something or stumble and fall on my face. No, they wouldn’t want that, right? I swallow hard, clear my throat and inhale deeply as if I’ve never breathed in before. I smile, but it feels weak, forced even, as most of the students keep me pinned under their watchful gaze.

The young Pavarotti raises his hand. I nod and squeak out a measly, “yes.”

“My father says with you directing our play, people from all walks of life will be at the festival.”

All walks of life? What does that even mean?

“Tell your father thank you.” I think. “Okay, if I could have Betsy and Michael come forward, we’ll get started.” I read from the cast list Mrs. Winters has provided for me. When the students step forward, I feel a sense of relief. I don’t know if it’s because they’re here or if it’s because I’m really doing this. I’m going to help direct the winter play.

The play we’re doing is one Mrs. Winters wrote. It’s about a young child who is adamant his parents choose the smallest tree with as few branches as possible, after hearing the tree farmer is going to chop it down and turn it into mulch. Of course, his parents want the big full tree, but the young boy is determined.

“Betsy, if you’ll take it from page one, and Michael you’ll follow right after.”

“We know, Ms. Du Luca, we were practicing before you arrived,” Betsy says. I nod and bite my tongue from the harsh response that’s sitting there. No need for snark is what I want to say. Instead, I motion her to start. Actresses!

Throughout the hour, children come and go for rehearsal. It won’t be until a night or two before the festival when the cast will be together. Mrs. Winters says children are so busy these days, getting them to volunteer for school functions has become harder and harder, until she implemented the winter play into the choir program and held try-outs for those not in her class. Still some students have other activities, which makes it difficult. Back when Dominic and I were in school, our parents made sure we stayed active, but committed.

When the last round of elementary students strolls in, the tiny gasps get my attention quickly. Two girls are huddled together and not hiding the fact that they’re pointing at me. I wave, which starts a round of giggles.

I go to them and crouch down. “What are your names?” I ask.

“I’m Shawna and this is my bestie, Holly, but she’s shy.”

Holly… Aiden’s Holly. I can tell immediately it’s her. I don’t know if it’s because she’s Aiden’s daughter or if it’s because of the way her blue eyes sparkle, but I’m completely taken by her. There’s something about her that reminds me of myself when I was her age. My hand immediately goes out and Shawna shakes it. Holly is hesitant, but eventually sets her small hand into mine. “Hi Holly, I’m Delaney.”

Once I get the younger kids situated, we practice their songs and stage placement. For the most part, they will be in the background singing, holding and even being props, and a few will have a line or two. Fortunately, Mrs. Winters has already chosen who will speak. I say this because I already know I’d play favorites and pick Aiden’s daughter, which already makes me a crappy director.

After fifty minutes of practice, the bell finally rings. Everyone lines up at the door, waiting for their teacher to come back. When the last child is out, I slump in the chair. “That was exhausting.”

“Says the actress who does this for eighteen hours a day,” Mrs. Winters points out with a laugh.

“It’s not the same. I get breaks every few takes. A nap if I want one. Food when I need it. I can walk off set and use the restroom even though the director will get angry; they can’t really say anything to me. But here—”

“Here is different. Here means always being on your best behavior even when a child is telling you ‘all walks of life will be in town.’”

“What did he mean?” I ask her.

Mrs. Winters sits down next to me and pats my leg. “I suppose your parents stay quiet on the town gossip, although with you being back, I’m surprised you haven’t run into Leo’s parents.”

I chuckle at his name. It’s wrong and unprofessional, but considering I called him Pavarotti, I can’t help it. “Honestly, they try to shelter me from everything, especially since my father became mayor.”

“As I suspected. Leo’s father ran against your dad a few times. He’s determined to unseat him.”

“And his father thinks I’m going to what, bring the degenerates out?”

She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter what his father thinks. Everyone in Ramona Falls is happy you’re home. I heard you’ll have a booth at the festival.” She looks at me with a gleeful smile.

“I tried for a kissing booth, but he wouldn’t go for it.” We both laugh. Even when I suggested it, I knew it’d be a long shot. “You know, that was the first time my dad ever asked me to do something like that; use my career in such a way.”

“How’d you feel?”

I shrug. “Oddly, I don’t seem to care.”

* * *

The drive to the airport took longer than expected, and by the time I pull in I don’t have to park because Calvin is already standing outside. He’s six foot five and sticks out like a sore thumb. I park along the curb and hop out, running up to him. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The roads were crap and I had to drive slowly.” My arms try to wrap around his waist, but the truth is, he’s like ten times my size.

“It’s cold here.”

No, hi Delaney or boss lady.

“Really?”

Calvin chuckles, but ignores me as he sets his bags into the back and instantly climbs into the driver’s seat. I fist pump, earning an odd look from the police officer who is standing by one of the two entrances with his head on a swivel, watching people go in and come out of the terminal. He probably doesn’t realize how happy I am to give up driving duties.

“We need something bigger,” he says as I slip into the passenger side of the car and buckle up. He puts the car into drive, but instead of leaving the area, he pulls into the parking garage and turns toward the rental return area.

“What are you doing?”

“Upgrading. I can’t drive around in this… sardine can.”

“It’s not that bad,” I say.

Calvin glares at me before getting out of the car. In a matter of minutes, Calvin has my cute little car emptied, keys turned in and us sitting comfortably in an oversized SUV, complete with tinted windows. If people hadn’t heard I was in town, they will now.

“Once you called, I made the arrangements to change the vehicles over,” he tells me as he follows my directions to the interstate.

“I figured as much.” I sigh and press the button to turn on the seat warmer. Truthfully, I’m happy to have something bigger, although I’d never be able to drive it. “I think you’ll like Ramona Falls.”

“Is it warmer?”

I laugh. “Nope, just as cold and we have a bunch of outside activities planned. We’re going to go ice skating, maybe build an igloo, definitely make some snow angels, and we’ll get you on a sled.”

“Mhm,” he hums.

“When’s the last time you saw snow?” I ask him.

“Years. I’m not a fan.”

“Neither am I.” But I’m happy to be back in Ramona. There’s something about being home that makes everything seem okay. To be honest, I haven’t missed Los Angeles, aside from the weather. I definitely don’t miss the fast paced life. “You know, I’m thinking of buying a property here.”

“You just told me you don’t like the snow,” he points out.

“True, but I like the solitude. It’s nice to drive down the road and know it’ll only take you literally twenty minutes to get to the grocery store. The lack of traffic is nice, and people don’t bother me here.”

“So what happened at the mall that prompted you to call me?”

“That was different. I think if I had gone with someone, I would’ve been okay. My mistake was thinking no one would recognize me, let alone have the mob mentality once they did. I fully expected to sign a few autographs and pose for some selfies, but… Anyway, Aiden was there and he helped.”

“The ex boyfriend?” Calvin glances at me and waggles his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “Sometimes I wish I had never introduced you to my brother. I swear you both are worse than women with your gossip.”

Calvin laughs. “It’s not gossip when he’s informing me you were accosted at the mall. If you hadn’t called, I would’ve shown up anyway.”

“You deserve a vacation, Calvin. And time with your family.”

He smiles. “You’re my family, Delaney. And it’s my job to protect you.”

I reach across the console and hug his bicep. I feel bad I’m tearing him away from his parents during the holidays, and fully intended to give him a month off. “While you’re here, I have a few things to do. One of them is the booth, as you know, but I’m also helping out with the festival play. I know Dom wants to spend time with you. He talked about taking you to Boston for a Celtics or Bruins game.”

“That’ll be fun.”

“Other than that, it’s mostly hanging out at my parents’ and strolling around town.”

“No singing Christmas carols, right?”

“You’ve heard me sing. Do you honestly think I’ll subject my parents’ neighbors to my voice?”

Calvin shrugs. “You force me to listen all the time.”

“You’re paid to listen, buddy. I don’t want the neighbors running into their homes when they see me outside. You can guarantee, there will be no going door to door for any of us.”

“Phew, what a relief.”

I swat him in his arm, but he only laughs. He signals to exit and follows my instructions on how to get to Ramona Falls. When he turns onto Main Street, his mouth drops open in amazement. Garlands, white lights and red ribbons decorate every wrought iron light pole along the street. Every store has a holiday display and if he were turn the radio off, he’d hear music playing from the speakers set up outside.

“This is like something out of a book or movie.”

“It’s pretty special,” I tell him. The town looks like a Norman Rockwell painting came to life.