Chapter 15

Fifteen

It’s finally here! Join our school and community as we welcome you to our Lights Festival. Come hungry! Aloha!

MERRY

The Friday of the Lights Festival dawned sunny, which had to be a good omen. No rain in sight, which meant a dry courtyard for the festival. The school day was crammed with last-minute preparations, and by afternoon, the chaos had reached a fever pitch. Each of my classes had some major disaster and the after-school setup quickly became a headache.

“Mr. Winters, the palm trees are falling.” Liam helpfully came to inform me. He, not so helpfully, stood by while two tipped over in the stronger-than-usual winds. I righted the trees and weighed down the bases.

“The arch won’t light.” One of Legend’s friends, who had a permanently guilty expression, ran over right as I finished with the trees. I found the culprit of a burned-out bulb, fixed that, and then solved a crisis with missing folding tables for the food vendors.

Mr. Can-Do helped me with the tables, and finally, I could breathe. And go check on Nolan, who’d turned the cafeteria into a staging ground for the choirs and other performers.

“Costumes, everyone.” Nolan was standing on top of one of the lunch tables in the center of the room, directing students. He looked like a benevolent overlord summoning his minions, complete with a wand and clipboard.

“I’m missing a shirt,” a sixth grade boy yelled.

“Over there.” Nolan pointed with his wand, which was likely something a conductor would use, but I preferred to think of it as a magic wand in keeping with Nolan’s larger-than-life presence.

“I have the wrong shorts,” another boy called.

“Spare ones are next to the shirts.” Another flick of the wrist and another problem solved by my magician.

“I think my fairy wings are broken.” An eighth grader with droopy wings approached Nolan, and before I could offer my assistance, Nolan had her wings fixed and in position.

“This shirt itches.” Kaitlyn was in a lovely mood, as always.

“Powder is your friend,” Nolan called cheerily.

“Where’s my drum?” A seventh grade girl looked around the room.

“With the others.” Nolan pointed at the back wall. He was so impressive that I could have watched him for hours, but he caught my eye during a brief lull in kid questions.

“Please tell me the lights are working fine.” Nolan gave me a frazzled look as he wiped his forehead.

“The lights are working fine.” Now. I tried to sound confident, though, because that was clearly what he needed at the moment.

“Thank goodness something is going according to plan.” He smiled at me, and all was right with my world, if only for a second. The relief in his expression touched a soft spot deep in my chest. I liked that I could be a steadying force for him.

“The rest will go fine too. Promise.” I stared up at him, wishing I could touch him and offer more reassurance. “The parents are going to love the performances, and the lines for the food are already long.”

“Excellent.” Nolan rubbed his hands together, looking even more like a mastermind. “We need people spending money.”

“Exactly. The various games are doing good business too.” Different subject areas were running booths with games like pin-the-antlers, a duck pond with holiday-themed rubber ducks, bowling for cookies, and more. “The festival is a success, Nolan.”

Nolan exhaled hard. “I sure hope so.”

His little smile revealed how much this meant to him, and that soft spot of mine pinched again. This wasn’t merely a job for Nolan. This was his passion and gift, and we were lucky to have him.

“Now, go break a leg.”

“Thanks.”

Nolan held my gaze, something passing between us, more than simply pride at the festival. His eyes revealed a certain connection, gratitude that I understood what he needed, and something else, fragile and new, something I couldn’t let myself think too much about.

I stayed busy by checking on how the decorations were doing in the wind and visiting the food vendors to ensure everyone had what they needed.

“This is incredible,” Principal Alana said as she balanced a large plate of food. “We’re going to be able to fund so many field trips and special events. You and Mr. Bell are quite the team.”

“We are.” My throat tightened. “And most of the credit goes to Nolan. It was his vision. I’m just the carpenter.”

“Well, my thanks to you both. And it’s almost time for the performances.” She gestured at the area near the cafeteria doors that we’d designated for the show. I’d hung extra lights over the area to illuminate the performers, and we’d placed folding chairs for parents around the edges. I positioned myself near the doors in case my help was needed.

“And places.” Nolan led the sixth graders out to open the show with the surfing Santas. As soon as the lights hit him, he transformed from the jittery guy he’d been backstage into a confident, charismatic performer, complete with a charming smile and well-practiced gestures. A few weeks ago, I might have been frustrated at his ability to transform so easily, but now, I simply felt privileged that I got to see the other Nolan, the nervous and unsure one, the one with unrehearsed joy over little things, and the one who melted at my kisses. Here, though, Nolan the performer stole the show. “I’m Nolan Bell, and it’s been my honor to work with the choirs this fall. First up, we have the sixth grade choir.”

He stepped to the side to allow the kids to take center stage. I sent him an encouraging look, but he was busy cueing the music that would accompany the song. He returned to crouch in front of the performers, directing their singing and dancing.

Their performance was adorable and well-choreographed, even the part where one of the dancers went in the wrong direction. As much fun as watching my kids was, my attention kept getting drawn back to Nolan who had the most animated directorial style I’d ever seen, a far cry from Mrs. Crenshaw’s stiff composure. The kids finished with a flourish, and the applause felt genuine and well-earned.

Next came the band, then Mx. Lennox’s dance class, then more singing with the overly enthusiastic seventh grade drummers who almost drowned out the singers. The eighth graders featured several squeaky-voiced boys in the wrong key and a couple of sour-faced girls, but the overall song was uplifting and hopeful and a good ending to the performances.

After all the kids were dismissed to join their families, I congratulated Legend and Ryder on a job well done before they went to try their hands at the games.

“I’m winning all the cookies,” Legend bragged.

“No, I am.” Ryder poked him.

“How about you both win a cookie?” I used a reasonable tone, earning me groans as they raced off to join their friends.

Boys occupied, I fetched a plate of fried rice and a cup of juice and brought them to Nolan sitting on a folding chair near the stereo, looking wiped out.

“You need to eat,” I said sternly, holding out the food.

“I think I had something at lunch.” Nolan wrinkled his forehead, which likely meant he’d had a granola bar or an equally small snack. He inhaled, and his stomach growled. “Okay, maybe I am hungry. But this is too much for only me. You sit too.”

I nabbed another empty chair and dragged it next to Nolan. We’d shared enough food over the last month that we had a certain rhythm. He ate more of the meat while I ate the sautéed onions, and we dueled over who got the pineapples and cashews.

“All the performances were amazing.” I smiled at him, but he frowned.

“Well—”

“They were. No nitpicking.” I made my voice stern, with no room for Nolan’s perfectionist tendencies. “Didn’t you hear the applause?”

“I did.” He beamed, inner ham coming out.

“And look.” I gestured all around us. Families dotted the courtyard, eating food, playing games, and enjoying the decorations the kids had worked so hard on. Over in a far corner, Cara sat with several other mothers with the baby asleep in his carrier, looking as happy as I’d seen her. Smiles abounded along with lots of picture taking, memories being preserved. Athena, as always, was filming content for her channel. The lights sparkled, casting a warm glow over the festival, making everything seem more special. “It’s the holiday magic you wanted.”

“It really is.” Nolan took a deep breath, a contented smile settling on his handsome face. I loved his private smiles most of all, the ones that felt like they were for me and me alone. In another world, I might have been able to hold his hand here in the shadows. Desire for that world, the one where Nolan was a permanent part of the school and my life, swamped me like an unexpectedly too-big wave.

Unable to dwell on those thoughts, I nudged his foot with mine. “Still coming over tonight?”

He winked at me. “With bells on.”