weekend.”
They didn’t look like brothers; Connor resembled a lumberjack while Julian was clearly of mixed race, longlimbed and slender as a marathon runner. He wore a fleece-lined bomber cap but despite the dorky headgear, nearly every teenage girl present seemed to be swooning over him.
“I’m Eddie Haven.” Eddie turned to the blond woman again. “Lolly. Have we met?”
“Lolly Bellamy,” she said. “We both went to Camp Kioga, a hundred years ago.”
“I didn’t know you went to Camp Kioga,” said Maureen.
“Five summers,” Eddie said. “Best summers of my life.”
“Olivia and Connor turned it into a year-round resort,” Maureen said.
“Good to know,” Julian said, aiming a teasing grin at Olivia. “I’m ordering room service breakfast in the morning.”
“Huh,” she said, “that’s for paying guests only.” She held out an insulated paper cup to Eddie. “Hot chocolate?”
He thanked her, and she went off with her husband and brother-in-law. Eddie turned to Maureen. “I’m here for the drinks. What about you?”
“I wanted to help out.”
“Let’s both be honest and say we didn’t want to be alone tonight, and neither of us had a better offer.”
She frowned as though unsure whether she believed him or not. “Who says I didn’t have a better offer?”
“Yeah? What did you turn down in order to build a manger?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You’re trying to psych me out,” he accused.
“Sure. Of course that’s what I’m doing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go uncrate a sheep.”
The air came alive with the sound of hammering. Eddie worked on the lighting and sound for the display, because these were things he knew. And in spite of himself, he kept an eye on the Veltry brothers—not because he thought they might steal something, but because they had wandering attention spans. He commandeered Max and Omar to aim the floodlights at the display from all angles, with the most powerful beam installed above, streaming down into the middle of the manger. There were also yards of light strings that would outline the structure and the church, as well.
Maureen was hovering nearby. “It’s not coming together,” she said, her head tipped back as she critically surveyed the display.
“People are freezing their asses off,” he pointed out. “Hard to do your best work when you’re freezing your ass off.”
“That’s because it’s twenty degrees out. Let’s try putting on some Christmas music,” she said.
“Oh, please.”
“Not everyone feels the way you do about Christmas,” she said.
“And not everyone feels the way you do about Christmas,” he replied.
“Music,” she said.
“Whatever you say.” He stalked over to his van and fired up the sound system, selecting a mix tape that was sure to annoy her. A moment later, Rick James singing “Superfreak (U Can’t Touch This)” blasted from the speakers.
It was worth the trouble just to witness outrage on Maureen’s face. She didn’t say anything, though, because everyone else had a different reaction. The suggestive thump of rhythm and ridiculous lyrics immediately took hold, as he’d known it would. One thing he was good at was music selection—matching songs to occasions.
“Superfreak” was one of those pieces no one could resist. Even the Veltry brothers, whose taste ran to hip-hop, stepped up their pace.
As she tilted back her head and regarded the night sky, Maureen looked skeptical.
“Now what?” he asked her.
She indicated a guy on a ladder. “Something’s missing,” she said. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Her face changed—softened—as she tilted her gaze at the roof of the main structure. “That’s Jabez,” she said. “Have you met him yet?”
“Briefly,” he said. Something about the kid kept niggling at him. Maybe it was just Jabez himself. He exuded a kind of subtle magnetism. The other high-school kids were drawn to him, handing over light spools and cords as he climbed the ladder. Perched on the roof of the flimsy structure, he appeared to be in a precarious position. Yet he seemed all but weightless as he hoisted the Star of Bethlehem, which was easily as tall as he was, and hung it in place at the peak of the roof.
“Ready for the lights,” someone called.
Eddie hit a master switch and the scene came to life. A few moments later, the music changed to Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Bathed in the glow of the lights, Jabez looked even more striking. Maureen’s face changed. Softened, as though overcome by some kind of magic. He’d never known anyone quite like her. There was something about her that moved him; not just her earnest devotion to Christmas, but her air of…he wasn’t quite sure. Optimism, maybe. And earnestness. There was a deep appeal in Maureen that made no sense to Eddie, yet he couldn’t deny it. When he was a kid, he used to dream about a kind of Christmas that simply didn’t exist. Maybe that was the thing about Maureen. She reminded him of the kind of girl who didn’t really exist—not for him, anyway.
Then the lights flickered out. She shaded her eyes and looked around. Volunteers were putting away the tools and crates. “Where’d Jabez go?”
“Don’t know. Do you need him for something?”
“I was going to give him a flyer about auditions. Maybe he’d like to join in.”
“Hate to break it to you, but being in the Christmas pageant is not exactly a hot ticket for kids his age.”
“That’s why I made the flyer.” She handed him a few. “Feel free to give these out.”
He glanced at the sheet, angling it toward the false starlight. “‘Featuring an original composition by Eddie Haven’?” he read aloud. “Since when?”
“Since you said the music I picked was stale, I thought a piece by you would freshen things up.”
“And it never occurred to you to ask?”
“I’m asking. Will you?”
“I mean before you advertise my services.”
“If you turn me down now, you’ll feel like a heel.”
“Christ, and here I was, starting to like you,” he said. “Turning you down is not going to make me feel like a heel.”
“I know. It’s the kids and everyone counting on an amazing pageant this year,” she said. “They’re the ones who will make you feel like a heel.” She went around collecting empty cups, moving through the
