I knew Maureen dated, but to the best of my knowledge, nothing had ever been serious. But judging by the rigidity of her shoulders and her pursed lips, she wasn’t going to be offering that story anytime soon. I settled for slinging my other arm around her, making myself the filling in our sister sandwich, and watching with a full heart as the Wymacks showered Oscar with attention. And for good measure, Bambi too.
Will left just after one o’clock. We saw him off from the driveway. Maureen held back in the living room, still in a bit of a mood, but it seemed to improve as the afternoon went on.
In keeping with my resolution to be more flexible, I changed my mind about waiting until after New Year’s to switch bedrooms. I’d never felt more like I was at the beginning of something than I did today. Besides, with so many family members in town, we could complete the move to the master suite quickly. And it would eliminate the need for James and me to share the hall bathroom with my sisters while they stayed in the house.
Deanna and Miranda took charge of cleaning and airing out the master while I boxed up the last of my mom’s things and labeled them for a charity pickup. Leo helped me move her dresser and the remaining nightstand out to the covered carport. I didn’t want any of my mom’s old furniture. James and Leo then began moving some of the larger pieces across the hallway while Chris got to work disassembling the bed. James and I shared a glance as he tipped up the mattress. Hopefully, Chris didn’t think too hard about the fact I’d done some very naughty things to his son on that bed twelve hours ago.
Once we’d reassembled the bed in the master suite, we began walking everything across the hall. My long mirror and small lamps, the framed posters on the walls, Oscar’s dog bed, James’s duffel bag. The master bedroom, empty for well over a year, now looked lived in. Maureen brought in the bulk of my toiletries from the hall bathroom and put them in the ensuite. James rushed to open his bag and grab his toothbrush, placing it next to mine in the holder.
James and I had one last obligation to Coleman Creek High School for the season. We’d agreed weeks ago—which felt like millennia—to be on shift at the tree lot for its final night. While it would be slim pickings for tree shoppers, the #colemancreekholiday selfie wall remained a community hot spot, so the baked goods and cider would likely sell out.
Even though the success of the tree lot and the talent show tickets hadn’t resulted in job security for James—that had always been a pipe dream anyway—it meant that we could look forward to lots of fun extras for the kids next year. A discretionary budget for field trips, supplies, and new equipment.
James’s family and my sisters went out to dinner together at The Landslide. I texted Katy to let her know to charge their first round to my tab. She sent back a thumbs up emoji, and also a longer text letting me know Kasen was there having dinner with his parents, and he seemed in good spirits—just in case I was curious.
At the tree lot, we arrived to discover everyone’s tongues still wagging over James’s performance.
“We were taking bets on whether you’d show up,” Coach said as we walked up the path.
“Why wouldn’t we? We’re signed up. Even if there isn’t much to do.” I glanced around, trying to figure out where James and I could be most useful.
“That’s not it. It’s just that everyone is still gossiping about you two. I wasn’t sure you’d want even more attention.”
“Let them talk,” James said, smiling. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I got the girl. I don’t care what people say beyond that.”
From over at the selfie wall, some students snickered. Diane Montoya came over with a posterboard. She turned it around to reveal: MS. DAVIS AND MR. WYMACK 4-EVA.
“Very nice,” James said. “I can see by your grammar that Ms. Davis’s English courses have been very instructive.”
I tapped him lightly on the arm. “Hey!”
“Come on, you two,” Diane cajoled us. “Come take a picture with the sign in front of the selfie wall.”
We took the picture. Then we took a few more. One with Diane. One with Coach. A few with other student volunteers. Even Fel wanted in on the action.
“Why are you taking these pictures, exactly?” I asked Diane.
She looked up from her phone, where she was busy posting on Instagram. Instead of responding to my question, she looked over at Fel and said, “I think I’m going to stick with #colemancreekholiday. I thought about starting a new one just for Ms. Davis and Mr. Wymack, but it might be better to keep it simple.”
“Probably a good idea,” he drawled, opening up the app on his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Obviously, we’re trying to get you two to go viral. That video of Mr. Wymack singing already has a bunch of views. You need to capitalize. Maybe this could even get the district to change its decision about his job.”
“That’s a thoughtful idea, Diane, but I doubt the school board members pay attention to viral videos. Ms. Davis and I don’t want to ‘capitalize,’” James asserted. “We just want to finish our shift at the lot and go home to enjoy the rest of the school break.”
Over the course of our two-hour shift, we realized Diane hadn’t exaggerated how many people had viewed James’s performance online. Multiple tree lot customers we didn’t know asked to take a picture with us, holding Diane’s sign. They all told us they’d been moved by the video, several even saying it had made them cry. I agreed with James that I didn’t mind if people talked about us, but I preferred our moment to be kept somewhat private. Just me, James, and the five thousand residents of Coleman Creek.
“Don’t worry about it too much. People always move on quickly from these Internet things,” James assured me. “They’re just noise.”
A moment later, my phone, James’s phone, and Coach’s phone all vibrated with the same incoming picture. Mrs. Allen, seated in a rocking chair holding her brand-new grandson.
“Aww, he’s so cute.” I hearted the picture.
“See? That’s what I mean about the Internet being full of noise. This is all that really matters. Family and friends. And of course, spending as much time as possible with the love of your life.” James kissed the top of my head. Turning to Coach, he said, “I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Marley and I are going to leave if that’s okay.”
“Fine, fine.” Coach waved us away. “You lovebirds have fun.”
