Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“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.”