On Christmas Eve, Logan was in his office in town, brooding over the resort accounts. The office was adjacent to the local radio station, and through the wall he could hear the relentlessly cheerful voice of the DJ, Eddie Haven, talking about the town festivities, which would culminate in the Christmas morning pageant at Heart of the Mountains Church.
Logan wished he could scrub the worries out of his brain. He had always been good at numbers. He had always been good at business. That was why the current situation was so frustrating. A looming loan payment and a year-end tax filing weighted the balance sheet heavily into the red. Despite taking a surgeon’s scalpel to the budget, he wasn’t able to stop the bleeding, not completely.
He glared at the screen and brooded some more, until his eyes glazed over.
The front door opened and shut. His father came in, looking around the small space, the shelves crammed with files and work product.
“So this is where it all happens,” said Al.
Logan pushed back from his computer screen, which displayed a spreadsheet with its depressing numbers. “Not exactly O’Donnell Industries,” he said.
“How’s it going?” asked his father.
There was a world of meaning in the question. What his father really wanted to know was whether or not Logan’s crazy enterprise was panning out. Was he making money or losing his shirt?
“I know that look,” said Al. “I realize you think I spent your entire boyhood with my nose in a business ledger, but believe it or not, I knew where you were, every minute. Still do.”
Logan was startled. “If that’s the case, then why did you just stand by and watch me go off the rails?”
“I didn’t stand by, and you didn’t go off the rails. The things that happened, yeah, some of it was hard, but I watched you turn yourself into a man, same as you’re doing for Charlie. A person can get crippled if he doesn’t figure things out on his own.”
Logan thought about all the dumb mistakes he’d made, the way he’d bumbled through the rough years. But looking back, he realized that despite the trouble and the hurt he’d endured, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Tough love?” he asked.
“That’s what I’ve heard it called. Then again, there’s no shame in asking for help. Sometimes,” said his father, “all you have to do is ask.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” Darcy came bustling into the office. Her cheeks were bright from the cold, and she looked amazing, outfitted for skating on the lake. “You can’t sit here laboring over the books like Bob Marley.”
He grinned and pushed back from his desk. She was like a breath of fresh air, especially in the wake of his surprising conversation with his father. “Don’t you mean Jacob Marley?”
“Whatever. The point is, it’s Christmas Eve and you’re working.”
He stood up and reached for his jacket. “You’re a good influence on me. Where’s everybody else?”
“India took the four boys skating on Willow Lake.”
“Hope they’re staying out of trouble.”
“I’m meeting them at the skate house and then we’re all heading up the mountain before dark.”
“I’ve got more than work problems,” he said, shutting down his computer. “I’ve got a Santa problem. What the hell are we going to say to Angelica tomorrow when she sings her solo in the Christmas pageant, and her mom’s not there to see? I’m planning to film the whole thing, but it’s not the same.”
Darcy leaned against his desk. “I had an idea about that. I wanted to run it by you.”
“You figured out a way to pull off a Christmas miracle?”
“Not quite, but I thought of something that might help. Er, if you don’t mind me stepping in.”
“Mind? I love that you’re stepping in.”
She smiled. “You know how I’m a rabid Jezebel fan, right?”
Jezebel, the hip-hop star who had filmed a reality show in Avalon the year before, had become an unlikely local hero. “You and about a million others.”
“I watched every episode of
“I didn’t tune in to the series, but yeah, I remember the backstory. The show followed her community service project with inner-city kids at Camp Kioga. That’s how the summer program got started.”
“Prior to her release, she did time at Bedford Hills.”
Now a glimmer of light came on in his work-fogged brain. “The same facility where Maya is.”
“Jezebel’s filming a Christmas special there, starting tonight and going through tomorrow. I read about it online. I asked if someone could help us set up a video call so Angelica’s mom can watch her sing tomorrow.” She pulled a tablet device from her bag. “Jezebel is going to provide a device just like this one. There’s an app called RealTime. Her friend in Avalon—a woman named Sonnet—do you know her?”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Long story. Remind me to tell you sometime.”
“She seems really nice. She and her husband are going to help us out. Tomorrow at ten in the morning, we’ll connect, and Angelica and Andre will get to see their mom. It’s not the same as seeing her in person, but it’s something.”
His heart felt squeezed with emotion. “How did you get to be so awesome?”
“You think I’m awesome?”
He had a lot more thoughts about her. But that conversation would have to wait.
“I’ll see you at the house,” he said. “I’ve got a last-minute errand.”
He reached for a stack of files. She put her hand on top of them. “Uh-uh,” she said. “Christmas Eve, remember?”
“Are you going to be that girlfriend who won’t let me get my work done?”
“Who says I’m your girlfriend?”
“Me.” In a swift movement, he trapped her between his body and the desk. “I say.”
Her eyes and her lips softened. She liked him, he could tell. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leaned down, really wanting to kiss her, but instead, he just whispered in her ear. “Tonight,” he said. “You and me, tonight.”
Skating was lame. Charlie and Andre both agreed on that. Aunt India told them they could take off their skates and play in the snow if they didn’t go far. They found some kids playing king of the mountain on a huge snow mound at the edge of the church parking lot, and that was way more fun.
“Hey, check it out over here,” said Andre, motioning him to the corner of the lot.
Charlie saw the shiny red Bobcat, with its snowplow attachment, parked in the usual spot. He and Andre climbed up to the scoop-shaped plastic seat, wedging themselves into the small space. They worked the levers and pedals, making motor sounds with their mouth as they fell into their favorite make-believe game, robot wars. Charlie pushed down on a pedal, and to his surprise, the big snowplow blade lifted up. He eased up on the pedal, then pushed it again, and the blade followed his movements.
“Cool,” said Andre. “You got it to work.”
“Way cool,” Charlie agreed.
Andre started monkeying with the other controls, reaching across Charlie to work both big levers. “This moves it forward,” he said. “This moves it back. I’ve watched it a million times at construction sites in the city.”
“Okay, you be the driver and I’ll watch for the enemy,” said Charlie.
This year, he decided as he played alongside his best friend, Christmas rocked. There was going to be a
