A Mom For Christmas

“Do you think she’ll follow through?”

“No. And I’ll have to tell my daughter yet again that her mother is too busy with her career to find time to spend with her.”

“Maybe having time with Beth and learning to dance would help soften the blow.”

Noah ground his teeth. “Until Beth packs up and heads back to New York without warning. Chloe doesn’t need another woman in her life pushing her aside when something more exciting comes along.”

“Are you so sure that’ll happen? Her mother says her ballet career is over.”

Noah shook his head. “You don’t know Beth the way I do. If she makes up her mind to dance again, then she will. It’s the only thing she really cares about.”

“That’s understandable. She devoted her life to being a ballerina, and I know how competitive the dance world is. She had to give it one hundred percent of her time and focus to succeed.”

“No. She had to give up everything and everyone to succeed.” He glanced at his gram, intending to drive home his point, but she was looking back at him with a knowing expression and a glint in her blue eyes as if she’d discovered something delightful.

“You know, most friendships fade away after school. Why are you still hanging on to this one?”

“I’m not hanging on. She was a friend I thought I could count on, and she wasn’t. The only thing I can depend on with Beth is that she’ll leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Her being back just reminds me that when it comes to women, my judgment is useless.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She sat down. “You’re a lot like your father was. He felt things deeply, but he didn’t express them. He had a tender heart and it was easily wounded. He fell in love with your mother the moment they met. They worked together for two years before he even asked her out. He almost lost her to another guy because he was afraid to share his feelings.”

“I don’t have feelings. She killed those long ago.”

“Beth did—or was that Yvonne’s doing?”

Noah was not having this conversation. “Gram, I love you, but I’m a big boy. I can manage my own life.” He strode from the room, but not before hearing a skeptical huff from his grandmother. She always claimed she knew him better than he knew himself. Unfortunately, she was usually right.

* * *

Bethany scrolled through the MLS for Dover and the nearby areas looking for a four-bedroom, two-bath ranch on ten acres. She’d tuned in Christmas music on the radio, and the mellow notes of “White Christmas” filled the air, but keeping her focus was a challenge. After a while the houses all began to look the same. She could never understand how her mother derived so much satisfaction from hunting down homes for sale and finding people to buy them. She printed out a couple of prospects, then stood and walked to the back room to get a fresh glass of sweet tea.

She was grateful to her mom for paying her to work at Montgomery Real Estate, but she’d have to find something else to do if she stayed in Dover. The thought gouged a channel across her stomach. She didn’t want another job. She wanted to dance. It’s all she’d ever wanted. But if she listened to her doctors and her physical therapist, she wouldn’t be returning to the Forsythe Company. They felt certain with enough recovery time and continued PT she’d be able to dance, but classical ballet was not recommended. It would be too easy to sustain the same injury again.

Beth refused to accept their diagnosis. She’d heard of many ballerinas who had suffered an ACL reconstruction and went on to dance for several more years. She would dance again. She had to. What else was there for her? Eight to five in her mother’s office? She wasn’t qualified for much else. She’d given up her chance at a degree when she’d joined the Forsythe Company.

The office door opened as she came back into the front, and she smiled as Evelyn Carlisle walked in. “Miss Evelyn, what a nice surprise. How are you?”

She laid down the papers she was carrying and gave Beth a warm hug. “I’m not bad for an old lady with arthritis. It’s nice to have our famous ballerina back with us. I know your mom is tickled pink to have you home. I love having Noah and Chloe with me again. Of course, I’m not one to sit in a rocker on the porch.”

The woman’s warm smile and zest for life made Beth smile. Noah’s gram was always involved in something, always trying new things and always first to jump in to tackle a challenge. “What’s keeping you so busy these days?”

Evelyn held up one of the papers. “This. I’ve reopened the Dawes Little Theater, and we’re having a special Christmas performance.”

Beth took the large colorful poster depicting iconic Christmas events. A sugar plum fairy, children around a tree, a winter scene and the nativity. “This looks wonderful. What made you decide to reopen the theater?”

“Your sister-in-law, Gemma. She did such a fantastic job with our celebrations last year that everyone is fired up to make this year even better. I’d been thinking about starting the little theater up again, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. We’ve scheduled it for the third Saturday in December. I was hoping to put a poster in your window.”

“Of course. I’ll put it up right away.” The thought of reviving the theater sent her heart skipping. It had been a vital part of the town for years, and she’d performed in several shows. She’d been sad to learn from her mother that Evelyn had closed it because of lack of participation.

“Most of our numbers are musical. Three familiar Christmas scenes with singing and dancing. I wanted it to be happy and joyful. We’ve been blessed so many people were eager to volunteer to put on the show.” Evelyn adjusted her glasses. “Of course, things happen. And we’re about to lose a key member of our staff. Allison Kent, our dance coordinator, just received a job offer in Biloxi she’s been hoping for, and she has to start immediately.”

“That’s too bad.” Evelyn was staring pointedly, triggering an uneasy feeling in Beth’s stomach.

“I thought perhaps I could talk you into stepping into her place to help us out?”

“Me?” The idea sent a swell of excitement along her nerves. Being in a theater again, performing, the excitement, the joy. Cold reality quickly squelched the feelings. She wasn’t in any shape to perform, and being in a theater now would only point out what she could no longer have. “I’m not really sure how long I’m going to be here, and I promised to help my mother.” She was hedging, and the look on Evelyn’s face said she knew it, too.

“Since all of our performers are amateurs, Allison kept the dances simple. They’re all set, and everyone knows them by heart. All you’d have to do is keep things on track.”

“That’s very kind of you to ask, but...”

Evelyn patted her arm. “Just think about it. We could really use your help. Oh, and I wanted to tell you I liked your suggestion about Chloe taking dancing lessons. I think it would make doing her PT exercises easier.”

“Noah told you about that?”

“He did, and I told him he was being closed-minded about the whole thing.”

“What does he have against it? I really can’t figure that out.”

Evelyn’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, well, it’s a long story. He’s got some funny ideas about the arts that, if you ask me, he needs to get over.” She scooped up the rest of the circulars. “Well, I need to get going, or I’ll never get these distributed.” She stopped at the door. “Oh. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to take a look at the scene from The Nutcracker we’re doing in the show. Allison had doubts about some of the steps. With your professional experience, maybe you could stop by and offer a few changes to make it better?”

It would be rude to refuse. “Of course. Just let me know.”

“Thank you. Oh, and would you see that Noah gets one of these posters for his office window when he comes in?”

“Of course.” Beth said goodbye, then returned to the desk and sank down in the chair. It might be fun to get involved with the production. But how would she feel being in a theater, knowing she might never dance professionally again? No. It would be safer to keep her focus on her recovery.

She was doing all she could, following her doctor’s and physical therapist’s advice to the letter. She was eating right, getting plenty of rest and doing her exercises faithfully. Each morning she did her exercises and a full ballet warm-up in the small studio her father had built for her when she was a child. Each day she pushed just a little harder, stretched a tiny bit farther, but always wearing her brace and careful not to overdo. She believed in her heart that if she worked hard enough and long enough, she could recapture the life she had before.

But what if the doctors were right, and she was lying to herself? That question lay like a shard of ice in her chest that never went away.

She glanced out the window and saw Noah unlocking the door to his office. Picking up the poster, she followed him inside. “Your gram left this for you to put in your window. I have one, too.”

He scanned the colorful announcement with a shake of his head. “She got it into her head to start the little theater up again.”

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

He shrugged. “If it makes her happy...”

“She asked me to help out with the dancers. Apparently her instructor is moving away.”

Noah held her gaze, his mouth in a tight line. “I suppose you jumped at the chance.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Really.” He rested his hands on his hips. “What’s holding you back? Too busy selling real estate? Or is little theater beneath you? Going from principal dancer to small town choreographer is quite a comedown.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.”